A Fragile Life.
A Fragile Life.

Rescuing turtles for Macee.

You don’t know what you’re doing to them. (BULLIES)

It’s the smallest things that end up breaking us. 

You like my hair today… thank you so much.w

You think my arms look fat… I’ll add that to my list of flaws. I’m going to spend hours worrying about it and obsessing about it… and it’s possible I’ll never be comfortable with them again. 

And maybe it’s because we are human and it’s in our nature to be the best we can. A flaw could have potentially killed you, an attribute is great… but it is not enough to protect you. 

It’s easy to swear, it’s easy to throw something, it’s easy to get mad, it’s easy to say a lot of words that are going to hurt someone… it’s even easy to say words that you feel like saying without thinking about what that could do to a person. Others aren’t made of stone, they aren’t robots. It doesn’t matter how put together or perfect or how you see them. They still have feelings, emotions, and insecurities. And you still have to respect them. 

It’s so stupid to think you’re entitled to sit behind a computer or phone or with your friends or even to someone’s face and say things that you have no business saying. If you don’t like someone leave, ignore them, take yourself away from the situation… it’s one thing to take up for yourself or others and another to talk absolute crap about someone. You have no idea who they are. You have no idea what their life is like… you have no idea the things they put up with, and you have no idea the battles they’re already fighting. You don’t have to like everyone… you won’t like everyone… but you do have to respect them on some level, especially when you honestly know nothing about them.

So before you yell at the girl walking on the sidewalk or make a rude comment on someone’s picture or video or go to someone’s ask and say something negative you’re just dying to say or talk about the really weird person that works with you… stop and think. It’s not funny, it’s not cute, and it’s certainly not okay. 

Words hurt so much and for some reason we take the negative ones and hold them so close to our heart it breaks. I could probably sit here and tell you well over half the rude things people have told me, not because the number is so minuscule,  but because I’ve spend so much time replaying them in my head and believing them. And I sadly can’t say the same about the nice things, because those never haunted me at night or whilst I’m walking alone or having people look at me. 

Be nice. Think before you say something. If you have to correct someone or be honest with them… let them keep their dignity. And don’t bully or harass someone. You don’t know them… and you don’t know what it could do to them. You’re fragile, they’re fragile. Have some compassion and respect; we’re way more alike than we are different. 

Hi.

Before I even start I know I said I would post everyday. And I know the last couple days I haven’t been doing a magnificent job at that. 

I’ve had the strangest week. I’ve fought a lot and cried a lot and smiled a lot and tied up a lot of loose ends and cut a lot of strings that were weighing me down. And though I’m very happy and at peace, a lot of things have changed- or are in the process of changing- and that’s really emotionally draining to happen in a few short days. I’ve spent the last 2 days with Gage because I just needed to be with a person that gets me. 

I feel like something with us has shifted. I don’t know how to make it clear what I mean by that. Perhaps in a you’re really here to stay way or maybe I’d really like you to be what I see when I wake up. Or maybe like you know how maybe a person has in their mind if they would like to get married or would like to have children, but it’s kind of just a generic dream…. but then you have a boyfriend/girlfriend and you’re like this is the person I see myself married to…and maybe even feel okay saying I want to marry you, but it’s a matter of time and whatever else before you actually are truly ready to get married and can fathom what that means. I think I’m finally at the stage where I can process the thought of moving in with Gage, not to say I am anytime soon but I’m just saying.

I’m tired of writing. And I’m rambling. And I can’t put my thoughts into sentences. So I’ll stop typing now. I hope you’re having a nice Sunday. <3 

Lets play.

Typical Saturday morning with my boy. <3

Don’t feel obligated to read this.

The past week has been a lot of ups and downs. And I’m going to cry even though I don’t have the slightest idea where this post is going yet. I was hoping the words would come to me as I started typing, but that’s not working out so well. 

I guess this week’s lesson is to stand up and/or fight for yourself and the people you care about… because it’s those people that matter- like really really matter.

I’m just sitting here lost for words. I just have so much hope and love and faith and excitement and fear building up inside of me. And a lot of feelings that I can’t find the words to explain. 

I know this makes no sense to you. 

Not my sister.

I’m going to California in less than a month. I don’t want to wait anymore! 

On a lighter note, look how great my shoes are. 

Go be nice to yourself. (And be nice to me and read this..)

If you’ve been following my blog for a bit now, you know that I have waves of getting down about my body, as does everyone else. But recently this huge mass of support around me of people taking up for each other and speaking out and up and being honest is overwhelming. And it makes me cry and laugh and smile and I really love it. 

Let me be honest with you and tell you were times when I didn’t even look in the mirror. I have no idea what my body looked like… I just knew I hated it. There were times when I could sit in front of a mirror and literally tear myself apart. There were times I worked out to such an extent in search for some kind of worth and days and months that I denied my body food that it needed. The only people that existed to me were these models… and I have no idea what a normal, unedited body looked like. And on top of that there were people… guys… that were really rude and said things they had no business to me or anyone else. Yet I believed them and took their words to heart, because when someone calls you a name or tells you that you are something… you believe them and you want to make yourself better.

And I’m saying this because if you’re reading this, you probably have a very similar story. 

There is this really weird fixation on perfection and this strange obsessions of what an ideal body is.

I was talking to a guy a few months back that had just had a baby with his wife and I was asking how they were doing and how his daughter was… and he told me, “she’s fat and happy. She’s doing so great.” And at first I was taken aback by his words… because when’s the last time you heard someone use the word fat in a positive way, especially when a child is involved. But then I saw the love in his eyes and the genuineness… and I was like oh, it’s okay. 

I think so many images have warped us. I’ve started working out with minimal clothes and sleeping in minimal clothes and staying naked a bit too long when I get out of the shower and when I’m getting ready in the morning… and the truth is my body isn’t perfectly laid out. I don’t look “flattering” at all times of the day in all positions. And I’m okay with it. My mindset is it’s my body… is you don’t like what I do with it… I don’t care. My body isn’t your business… Your body isn’t anyone else’s business. Please be healthy and safe… but please do whatever hell you want to do with it. The more I spent time with myself without clothes hiding me the more I realize how to appreciate the beauty in other people… and maybe that sounds really stupid. But how vulnerable do you feel without clothes… in positions that don’t make you body look the absolute best?

The truth is it doesn’t matter if you have a lot of fat on your body or a lot of muscle or  just a little. I doesn’t matter if your skin is stretched or if you have cellulite. It doesn’t matter if you have spots or freckles or moles or scars or stretchmarks or tattoos or piercings… It doesn’t matter how you hair is. When you sit down you’re allowed to have rolls, you’re allowed to have no rolls. It really doesn’t matter if your stomach is firm or flat or soft. It doesn’t matter if your thighs are thick or thin or touching or you can’t make them touch for the life of you. It’s okay if you have to shop in a different store or a different section because for some ungodly reason they don’t have your size. And I know it’s a punch to your stomach when the smallest size is too big or the largest size is too small and it feels like everyone else’s size is perfectly accessible… but it’s okay. It’s not your fault the store doesn’t have your size, call me up… I’ll find your size, I’ll make you pants if I have to.

Your body is your body and whatever it looks like is fine… it’s your business and only yours. 

Now go be nice to yourself and others.