Tag: Poetry

Posted in Poetry

I published a book!

Posted on by Chantelle Mathewson

I have been absent from this blog for almost two years now. Covid turned my life upset down, like it did so many others. I found myself moving back home. I found myself in new jobs and in new places that made me uncomfortable. I found myself outside of my comfort zone and I realized one very important lesson. I liked it there.

I am bad at updating my blog, but I have been writing. A lot! I wrote and self published a collection of poetry! For as long as I can remember, this has been a dream of mine. Since sixth grade when the library became a safe haven, I have wanted to have my writing published. I know this is only the beginning, and I am so excited to continue sharing my thoughts and ideas with the world.

How we choose to stay is a collection of poetry that focuses on my struggles with mental health, grief, and finally finding the courage to survive. I poured my soul onto the pages and cried more tears than I care to admit. It would mean the world to me if even one person gave it a look.

Thank you for being here.

Thank you for reading what I have to say.

Thank you for choosing to stay.

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Posted in Poetry

My Business

Posted on by Chantelle Mathewson

We are in the business of settling

planted six feet deep with beating hearts

we earn our wages

weighed down by the dirt still being shoveled in

we wallow

and I am afraid this hole is where I will breath my last

 

We are in the business of settling

for lukewarm relationships and stale jobs

plastering a smile onto grey faces

already dead

with half our lives still left to live.

– CM

Posted in Poetry

The Day Before Today

Posted on by Chantelle Mathewson

It was the day before today

Not yesterday because yesterdays are to close

but the day before today

a lifetime ago

When my whole body would shake

at the thought of losing you

like a leaf about to turn brown and drop

I didn’t know that the end could be so beautiful.

-CM

 

Posted in Letters to..., Thoughts and Opinions

Starting Over

Posted on by Chantelle Mathewson

No beating around the bush, no long intro explaining myself, no poetic words of enlightenment; I am going to cut right to the point.

Over the past few months, I have been reinventing myself. One morning while driving into work, I realized that I was unhappy with my own mindset and view of the world. As I drove over a bridge overlooking the ocean, driving my new car, listening to my favorite song on the radio, I still wasn’t happy, and I wasn’t okay with that. So on that Thursday morning while everyone else was looking forward to Friday, I decided I was going to change.

So that is where I have been, and what I have been up to, and it has been beautiful.

I decided not to tell anyone about this breakthrough. Not my boyfriend, not my parents or my sisters, my friends or my coworkers. I decided this was going to be for me, until I felt as if I had made some progress. So here we are. I feel like now I’m ready to share where my mind has been and who I have become.

I am taking more time for me. I find time every day to exercise, whether that means going for a walk for twenty minutes or going to the gym for an hour. Sometimes it just means squatting and doing planks in my living room. Whatever fits and whatever feels right.

I have been more aware of the foods I am putting into my body, and this has made me feel amazing. I love greasy foods and fast foods as much as anyone, and some days when I’m running low on time before work, I still swing through the drive through and stuff my face with chicken nuggets and french fries. And I love those days. But most days I am eating more fruits and vegetables, drinking more water and enjoying flavors instead of just choking them down.

I have been more aware as well of my impact on the environment. I no longer use plastic bags or plastic straws, as much as I possibly can. I was always that person who asked, ‘how is one person going to make any impact?’ because my actions seemed so small compared to the actions of the whole world. But that’s just it. They are my actions, and at the end of the day, the only actions I can control. So I might as well start there.

I look in the mirror differently now. I don’t always love who I see there, but I now try to find at least one thing I do love about her. Whether that be her eyes or her nose, some days it’s just the way her finger nails are the perfect length. Some days the only thing I can find is the birth mark on her stomach to fall in love with, and that’s okay. At least it is something.

I am learning to accept the things I have done wrong, and forgive other people for the apologies I never got. I am moving forward and trying to be done with the past. This one is the hardest, but I am making progress. I am trying to reach out to people I feel like I have harmed in some way, and make amends to the best of my ability. Once the words are out, all I can do is move forward, because there is no going back and changing what has already been done. I am finding this one of the most important and helpful things I have ever done for my body and mind.

Overall, I have just been growing. I have been living in my own being instead of in the being I thought I was supposed to be. I am continuing to find new things every day to try and to experience, and I am loving every minute of this journey.

I will leave you with that. I hope you find time today to adopt one of these ideas into your own life. I hope you find a way to enjoy this moment.

Posted in Letters to..., Thoughts and Opinions

Perspective Makes Me A Stranger

Posted on by Chantelle Mathewson

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Two questions for you today – have you ever looked at someone and wished you could be like them? And – who do you see when you look in the mirror?

Stay with me here.

We have all been the person a stranger wanted to be.

Read that again. And again. Now let it sink in. Believe me.

I am willing to bet you have looked in the mirror and saw a person you never thought you’d see staring back at you. Maybe you thought you’d be stronger, skinnier, healthier, smarter – maybe all of these things. I am willing to bet you have looked at that reflection and hated every single thing you saw. To say this is normal is sad, but it’s a reality. We can never be perfect. You will always see more flaws in yourself than anyone else will ever see in you.

Now, the tougher one. We all know the girl in the coffee shop who’s wearing the black pants void of cat hairs and perfectly pressed. Her top is tucked into her pants, it isn’t causing any lumps or bumps on her hips. Her bottoms aren’t rising up causing the dreaded camel toe. Her top is showing just the right amount of cleavage. She’s staring at the menu above the barista’s head, probably reading, considering what she’ll order today, and in the moment, you would give anything to be her. You glance down at yourself and see your jeans that should have been washed two wears ago and you’re shirt wrinkled from being in the hamper half an hour before – the sniff test deemed it okay to wear one more time. You look at yourself and you are disgusted. Why can’t you be more like the girl in the black pants with the perfectly clean hair, gorgeous face contemplating the menu like it’s a work of art?

What you didn’t see though, as you looked down at the body you have labeled as ‘gross’ and ‘unworthy’, was the Goddess before you running her eyes over your body, wishing with every ounce of her soul that she could be more like you. She woke up two hours early to wash her favorite pair of pants. She tried on five different shirts before deciding on this one, all of the others showing too many rolls. She stood in front of the mirror for an hour applying and reapplying her makeup until it was perfect. She cried for ten minutes over her eyeliner wing not being just right. And now she’s standing here staring at the menu with an anxiety bubble forming in her chest, hoping she doesn’t start crying while telling the barista she would like a small latte. She looks over at you as you glance down at your own body, and she wishes she didn’t care what people thought. She wishes she could look as effortless as you, as beautiful as you do.

But you both look up and go on with your day without ever knowing that you were that stranger. Without knowing that you are perfect just the way you are.

Let’s revisit my second question, but let’s revise it a bit this time. Who are you going to see tomorrow when you look in the mirror? You see, who we are is all about perspective. You can choose to see the bags under your eyes and see the hours of sleep you didn’t get showing on your face, or you can see the nights you stayed up laying with your boyfriend or cuddling your baby. You can see the way your clothes fit too tight and beat yourself up about the weight you’ve gained, or you can think about how much better your a** looks, about how full your tummy feels, about how good the food tasted.

It’s not easy. Change never is. But next time you look in the mirror, try seeing yourself as a stranger. If you saw you on the streets, what would you think. Because I promise, some girl has wished she was you while you would have given anything to be her.

 

 

This post was inspired by a real interaction I had with a former co-worker. The story was too long to share in this post, and storytelling isn’t my normal content, so I decided not to include it. But if you’d like to hear the story, please let me know in the comments! 

Posted in Thoughts and Opinions

You are perfect just the way you are

Posted on by Chantelle Mathewson

You are perfect just the way you are. I don’t know who needs to hear this today, but if you do, please keep reading. Wipe your face. I see those tears, tears for a person you think you’ll never be, tears for a person you once were – I want you to look in a mirror. Wipe your face and take a good long look – who do you see? On a good day, you might say you see a girl with brown hair and green eyes, a girl with a smile and too many freckles. Today though, you tell me you see defeat. You see a girl who has tried so hard and just doesn’t seem to be getting anywhere. I will tell you now to look again. 

What I see is a girl who has never given up. I see a radiance that is only born through being knocked down over and over and standing up every single time slightly taller. I see a smile that has seen shadows, yet still steps into the light and allows the sun to shine on it. I see a spirit that has been nearly broken, yet is still chugging along each day. I see a girl who is enough.

If you look in the mirror today and this is not what you see, please just take a seat and listen to me. You don’t have to feel perfect every single day. You don’t even have to feel okay every single day. All that I ask is that you remember you are enough. Remember that when people look at you, they see a completely different person than you are currently seeing in the mirror. Remember that I believe in you. You can do the hard thing. You can take this life by the horns and you can live it in a unique way that only you can. And if you don’t see that today, that’s okay.

Look in the mirror again tomorrow, and maybe then you’ll see it. If not, read this again. You are perfect just the way you are.

Posted in Thoughts and Opinions

Self Love Is Messy

Posted on by Chantelle Mathewson

People love to romanticize self love. Everyone does it – and recognizing the importance of self love is a huge step, but romanticizing it can be destructive, and here’s why.

In the romantic version of self love, we see bubble baths and wine glasses. We see facial masks, nail polish, silky robes and a romantic comedy on Netflix. While at first glance, this self pampering seems like the ideal pinnacle of self love, it isn’t the reality for most people. Here is my example.

When I think about self love, my go to is a night alone, me in my apartment in fuzzy pajamas, sitting on the floor in front of my TV watching the same movie I watched last week, eating a jar of pickles and drinking a can of diet coke. My nails aren’t painted, my hair is piled in a bun resembling that of a pineapple on top of my head, my boyfriend’s sweatshirt adds five pounds, and my face hasn’t been washed since early this morning. It isn’t pretty. If someone was to look in my window, they wouldn’t think this was self love. They would probably think I was self destructing. But here is where I am my happiest. I might pass out on the carpet, wake up with a half eaten pickle in one hand and my cat curled up on my chest, but I will wake up happy.

It is important to recognize this as self love too, because for many girls, self love isn’t bubble baths and facial cleansers. I love a bubble bath as much as the next girl, but if I need a night to really relax and find myself again, I will be on the carpet with my pickles and coke, not in a bath tub smelling pretty and looking nice.

Self love isn’t always pretty. Most of the time, it’s sloppy. It’s messy, greasy, fuzzy, and dirty. Self love is the feeling you get when you are complete. Self love is treating yourself like a priority, instead of an after thought. On a normal day, I go to the gym and I eat a good breakfast, I wash my face and I listen to good music. I do consider this self love. Loving the only body I get was the best decision I ever made. This is my every day.

And then I have nights of pickles and coke, nights when bubble baths and silky robes aren’t doing the trick. These nights, I need something else. I need to remember what makes me feel whole, what makes my heart sore and my skin tingle. It’s a rare feeling, a feeling people usually dedicate to finding your true love – my first true love was in myself, as it should be.

Take bubble baths. Do face masks. Let social media advertise to you it’s ideal of treating yourself. But also have your pickle and coke days. Let yourself fall in love with just being sloppy, being alive, being messy. Let yourself feel – that is in fact, the whole purpose of self love. Remembering to breath, remembering to live, remembering what a blessing being alive truly is, and then allowing yourself to feel it. All of it.

 

Posted in Letters to..., Thoughts and Opinions

I Am So Sorry

Posted on by Chantelle Mathewson

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I am so, so sorry.

I am sorry this cruel world lied to you. I am sorry you have been kept in the dark, force fed fairy tales and romance since the day you started dreaming. I am sorry you were convinced your dreams were too big – they handed you heartbreak and fear and told you that was life – live with it. I am sorry you believed them.

I am sorry I wasn’t able to reach you sooner. You fought their words for so long, pushing back with a sharpened tongue and soft heart – I can see your battle scars. But eventually they wore you down. The lies snaked into your ears and began to take root in your mind and grow – you began to shrink to fit the world’s picture of yourself. You wanted castles and an empire built on blood and sweat and they told you a girl like you would never make it on your own. Each time you took a step forward, they pushed you two steps back, until you decided you had had enough.

So here we are. You’re giving up. Who could blame you really? You were told you could do anything, you could be anything, but when your anything became too big, you were shut down. You were stomped on and spit at – you were told to sit down, shut up, go back to the kitchen. You were told little girls don’t achieve big things. I wouldn’t blame you if you threw in the towel right here and now. I would hold your hand as you walked about, and yes, you would have a beautiful life. I am sure of that. And you would be happy for a while. Until that little girl inched her way back to you, crawling on hands and knees and looked up into your eyes and asked – ‘why did you give up on me’?

Hear me out.

I am so, so sorry.

I am sorry you think giving up is your only option. I am sorry quitter has become synonymous with successful. 

I am sorry I did not find you sooner – I am sorry you now believe it’s too late – it’s not. The cliche truth is, it’s never too late. Not now, not tomorrow, not until your heart stops beating is it too late to start over and start reaching again. It’s really not that complicated. So they told you that you weren’t enough – now’s your chance to show them that you are. They told you little girls with big dreams don’t make it that far – now is your chance to show that them little girls grow up to be woman with fire in their stomachs and ideas larger than sky scrapers and not even the strongest army can hold back a woman with motive.

I am so, so sorry for everyone who ever doubted you – because now is your time to prove every single one of them wrong. I can only imagine how they are going to feel when you reach for your dream one last time and end up going farther than the top – I can only imagine how sad they will be, how angry, that they didn’t back you. They will all say ‘I always knew she could do it.’

Smile. Shake their hands. Turn around. Look back and say –

I am so, so sorry. But the only one who knew I could do it was myself, and even that was iffy.

Posted in Poetry

When You Died I Read

Posted on by Chantelle Mathewson

When my world fell apart I went to the bookstore.

I went to the bookstore because there I am a stranger.

The aisles are just hallways and each person is just a traveler.

I went to the bookstore because the pages on the shelves

hold more stories than I ever will so within those pieces of paper

They must know greater heartbreak than what I am feeling

and there is a comfort in that

knowing that in this bookstore as I pass each title

I am not alone.

When my world crashed around me

I didn’t buy anything at the bookstore.

I wasn’t there to exchange paper for paper –

I ran my fingers down the spines of each bound cover I could never have

and I thought of your face.

What a beautiful thing you are – they are –

so far gone from me yet within finger tip distance.

I could flip through your pages but I will never get the chance

to read your novel.

 

-CM

Posted in Poetry, Thoughts and Opinions

Falling In Love Early

Posted on by Chantelle Mathewson

I found my soulmate long before I even knew what romance was. Funny isn’t it? You’re just playing in the backyard with a person who laughs at the same things as you, comforting a person who cries when you cry, and all of a sudden you can’t imagine your life without them. I met my soulmate before I could even walk or talk. That’s the thing about a true soulmate. They often aren’t even romantic at all. They’ve seen you through it all. They were the one person who stayed when everyone else left. They believed in you when you didn’t even believe in yourself. They are much more than a best friend. Sure, we can simplify it and call it that, but this bond deserves a title much larger than that. You can’t really know it until you feel it, this connection that crosses boundaries. It’s almost as if you become mind readers. You know what they are going to say before they say it. You know they are in trouble before they call you. You know to message them before your phone even goes off. You can be thousands of miles apart, and you still know the exact moment that they need you. It’s almost supernatural, and that’s why it deserves a much bigger title. Sure, you’ll meet many people you love after them. You’ll fall in love and get married. You’ll have other friends. But your soulmate will always be your soulmate. No one can replace them.

-CM