Tuesday, December 30, 2014

Basically Basic

Its funny 


how he looked at her and told her he was basic. She is always so frustrated with him, with his want to be perfect.  He doesn't see himself how she sees him, perfect, already flawless. When she first met him she didn't think she stood a chance, he had perfect skin, perfect hair and a perfect smile. How could someone like her even stand a chance? Her hair was always out of place, she got zits from stressing and her smile was quirky and out of place on her round face. She would often look at him and then look at herself and wonder what happened, how did she get so lucky? She would smack him when he made his "I'm just basic, I didn't want to be just basic so I got contacts, and I am bloated" comments. She didn't think he saw, really saw what she did. The thing about him was that he was as perfect on the inside as he was on the outside. He would open every car door for her, bring her breakfast, believed in equality and taking turns on driving to see each other, he respected her, never pushed her. Those are the things she saw when she looked at him, with his perfect hair, his muscular body and his contact filled eyes. She could see right through him, through the good looks and the dramatic facial expressions he would make to look sexy or mysterious. He couldn't hide from her. She liked him without the contacts and when he was drooling in his sleep, he seemed more real then, more human. She got so frustrated with his comments because little did he know how "basic" she felt standing next to him, holding his hand. She was average, there were a million other girls out there who looked just like she did, in her sweaters and scarves and her crazy hair. She looked like nothing special and she knew that and she was okay with it. He on the other hand, was someone the girls probably loved, he was different, was fit and perfect to the T all the time. How could someone not love that? He was a spitting image of what society says you should look like. Maybe she couldn't handle the perfection, and the want he had for it. She would never ever be perfect, never tanned, never perfect hair, and never perfect skin. She loved herself that way though, she loved not blending in to all the other girls because she didn't wear ten pounds of make up she didn't wear crop tops and tight pants, not having to be perfect for anyone because she loved herself for who she was and she hoped that maybe he could too. She knew he didn't need his perfect hair, perfect skin, or perfect body for her to like him. That's not what she really liked him for anyways. She knew over time his body would change, grow old and wrinkly, but she also knew that his personality would stay the same. The man who made her laugh, who opened her door and respected her decisions would always be there. She could love anyone for their perfect body but then would it really be love? Love consists of taking someones soul and soaking it in. He is not, in any way, shape, or form "basic". He understands what she needs and where she is coming from. He takes no for what it is, no without being pushy or needing an explanation. He makes her laugh and makes her want to try new things and there is nothing basic or just normal about that. The real definition of "basic" is forming an essential foundation. Maybe she agrees with him on that, he is building an essential foundation of what she should be treated like and she definitely cannot complain about that. Maybe we are all a little basic to someone else, maybe we are all just "normal" and its about finding someone who sees past that, who defines "basic" differently . Maybe we are all basic, and maybe, just maybe that is okay.

Tuesday, December 23, 2014

The last kiss



He kissed me like the last person he would ever kiss.
Even though I doubted I was the last, I wanted to be.
I filled my senses with his smell
and felt him laugh against my
cheek, full of breath, full of life. I wanted to frame the moment,
of him laughing and me blushing the color of my mothers red dress
she would wear on a cool spring day. I was a melting pot of feelings
and he was the bowl I melted into. I wanted to touch his cheek and remind
him of what it felt like to be loved, what it felt like to melt. I wanted to
remind him of what it felt like to be lost in a sea of another person, to be
swallowed up whole in the length of my arms. I wanted to remind him of
what it felt like to be kissed into a daydream that involved only him and I.
 If only I had that kind of power, I wanted to be powerful.
I wanted to engulf him into my fast beating heart
and keep him there,
forever.
Forever is what I wanted for us, for him, for me.
A forever kind of love that was bonded together by his laugh and my
good luck. He reminded me of what it felt like to be whole, to float on
every breath he took, to dance in his warm feelings,
of what it felt like to be worth loving.  He reminded me that he
was like a storm,swallowing up my soul like it had always been his to take.
He kissed me like the last person he would ever kiss.
Even though I doubted I was the last, I wanted to be.
Oh how I wanted to be.


-Meaghan

Friday, December 19, 2014

Getting Naked

Learning



to love being naked. Yes that's a thing. I once decided to take a picture of myself almost naked. (Bra and underwear style.) no I was NOT going to send it to anyone. I just wanted to know what it would feel like to live on that sort of edge. What it felt like to be that vulnerable, to actually stare at myself and to be a "model" I guess. For one, my bedroom lighting sucked so I looked almost orange. I also was the one holding my camera so that made things a little difficult and a little blurry (maybe I take the whole model style idea back). It also was very awkward to try and be sexy, I felt like that was needed in this type of almost naked photo. I tried twisting and contorting my body and face in a sexy manner, I ended up looking constipated and like I had wayy more fat on my body then I actually do. I am currently in the middle of reading a book called Not That Kind of Girl and in it the author (Lena Dunham) talks about a scenario just like the one I was having, except she was involved in sex videos which is a much more awkward situation. (Its a great book,definitely check it out if your not afraid of sex, love, life,and woman issues) Anyways sorry about the little side note. There I was, trying to be sexy in the almost naked photo of myself. Okay, I cant really say photo its more like photo(s) with an "s" I took a ton because I didn't feel like any of them was quite good enough at first.I turned so just my butt was facing the camera/ full body mirror, thinking that would make me feel better since I couldn't see my own face staring at me. I then turned so it was a full on frontal of my almost naked self. It felt strange and I felt vulnerable, you know the type of vulnerable you get even when changing in your room alone, you just want to cover yourself up  and never look at yourself naked again. I never understood why people get like that, what made me hate my body? I never remember waking up one day and saying "hey, I am not going to be comfortable in my own skin today"  I remember staring at the pictures and pointing out the things I disliked about them, my big hips, not so skinny waist, all my bumps and bruises. I remember times when I would see other people naked (sometimes, well most the time, not on purpose) they would always cover up their bodies and slam the door or scream (I am talking about family members or friends being in a room changing and not locking the door, oops!)like what they had to offer was much more different and alien then what I had, like we didn't have the same bodies. Who taught us to do that? Who said that it was bad to see other people naked even though we all have the same body parts? Who said it was bad to see yourself naked to not be comfortable in your own skin? The longer I stood there taking my candid "girls gone wild" photos the more comfortable I got seeing myself in the state of almost nakedness. I started to notice things that I liked about my body such as my strong legs, my nice rounded butt. I thought to myself, hey this isn't too bad! Why have I always been afraid of looking in the mirror while I am changing, why have I always bee afraid to face this kind of vulnerability. If you want to discover what you love about yourself, capture yourself in a state of being vulnerable, (Naked!) I figured if I could love myself naked then I could love myself in any way, shape or form. I am now not afraid to stand in front of a mirror and pinpoint the little things I love about my own body. Naked photos are a thing society is against, why? Because it shows a hint of vulnerability, it shows you giving yourself away no secrets to hide anymore, it shows you are comfortable with what you have. My almost naked photos are something that saved my self -esteem. I now would walk around my house naked if i could! Do not be afraid to be naked in all aspects of your life. Nakedness+Vulnerability=Learning to love yourself and learning to love others.   I do not condone sharing your naked (or almost naked photos) that is NOT what I am saying, I condone loving yourself exactly the way that you were made, flaws and all. Hooray for naked photos only sent to yourself, those are the best kind. Be comfortable in your own skin. Celebrate your own body, your beautiful!

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

I look GOOOD

There's


those days when you look in the mirror and your like, DARNN! I look gooood. Today for me was one of those days, besides the fact that my hair didn't go in the perfect braid I wanted, I was happy it actually fit in one barely (which took tons of bobby pins and hairspray) its finally getting long enough and that was an accomplishment in and of itself! It will probably fall out by the end of the day and I will look like someone who got in a fight with a blow dryer that's on high setting but I think I will survive (maybe). My make up will still be on point so that is still going for me, and my choice of colored clothes (something besides my usual black wardrobe) will up the hotness too. That's something you have to do sometimes, look at the plus sides of situations, remember that there is some good somewhere deep down in the dirt of feisty situations.Plus, my mom always told me I also have a great personality so that will always be there for the back up factor of  the chance that I actually don't look as good as I think (highly unlikely). No one has told me I look good today, except that one guy who stared at me from his car that was driving next to mine on my way to work as I was singing..I  am pretty sure that he should've at least crashed into one island or light post for staring to much. Unfortunately he didn't and the stares continued (he was old, and I avoided all eye contact). I guess that was a questionable moment where there was either something on my face or I actually wasn't kidding about looking good. I like to think I am somewhat attractive, with my medium length hair (that barely fits into a braid now!) and clumsiness I get from probably my mother since she is blonde (sorry to all those blondes out there, not trying to make a blonde joke). That's right I am one of those people who cant wear white, even if its before or after labor day, however that saying goes (do you blondes feel better now? I am brunette, but I am just like you!) I also rock glasses like a nerd, not those fake glasses without the lenses because I have no idea why anyone would want to fake that their eyes are broken. Unfortunately, my eyes are actually broken, I discovered it after months of driving at night and not being able to see the driveway to most places. (I blamed it on my windshield, go figure) it was in fact my eyes, my left one to be exact. (astigmatisms SUCK!) therefore I wear glasses which kind of make me feel like a librarian. Why do most people, including me associate glasses with librarians... ? I will never know, but here I am medium length hair, blue eyes, glasses, not wearing black clothing (like I said, for once!) and I feel fabulous, like a librarian should. Just joking, I am not a librarian. I am a receptionist (close enough!) I have never woken up and felt so fabulous in my life (scratch that.. wait. There was one other time and that was my senior year prom due to the fact that I got to wear a fancy dress and look like a princess) I thought to myself whats different today than normal? Have I been losing weight? (no not really, I probably gained some since Thanksgiving!) Has my face all of the sudden changed? (pah, highly unlikely... hello big zit I got overnight!) Then it hit me... I have been feeling different. Different in the sense that I feel more comfortable in my own skin, I feel comfortable with who I am (imagine that!) I can say I am looking good and that's okay to do! Its okay to love myself. (Why am I just barely realizing this?!) I have been through so much and I have spent so much time not liking myself, not looking in the mirror and saying DARNN I look good! Even with my hair that barely fits in my braid, with my glasses, my overnight zit. I look good on the outside because on the inside I have never felt more like myself. I have never felt so clumsy, so unlikely to wear white, so lonely,so vulnerable, and so willing to love myself regardless of all of these things. Remember no matter what your skin looks like, no matter of what you see on the outside you look gooooood! :)

Friday, December 12, 2014

Single as a Pringle

People


have always told me that I will find that one guy who will make my heart beat faster and I will fall madly in love. What they never did tell me was the time I would spend alone before that happened. The time it took to find this "one guy." I used to feel like finding him was such an urgent thing, that I needed him in my life right now in order for my life to be prefect and dreamy. I spent time and effort searching and trying to mold men into this perfect soul mate of mine. I used to hate the questions of "why don't you have a boyfriend?!" The world made me feel like I needed another person, a man to be complete. I discovered something else. I discovered and I am still discovering more things alone about myself then I would've if I was in a relationship. I think that is the power of being alone, finding yourself.


1. The first thing I discovered is that its okay to be lonely, Its okay to feel sad because your are the only one of your friends who is not in a relationship or married. That is natural. But what isn't okay is finding the first person you see and clinging onto them out of loneliness, spending every second with them because you don't want to be alone. Stop that. Go home, make some tea, cry if you have to and go to bed alone. You will feel much better about waking up alone the next day then with a stranger, trust me.

2. Stay busy! I don't care what you do, go to the movies by yourself, have a girls night, go shopping. Stay busy because you should be living life! This is your time to do whatever you want! Even if that consists of watching every Netflix movie and venting to your sister about all the ice cream you just ate. Do it! Its better than sitting around moping in your loneliness.

3. Do not be afraid to face yourself. This is a big one, especially for me. Being alone means learning to love yourself, which means you have to spend a lot of the time with yourself, even if you don't like it. It will get easier to go to bed alone, to wake up and realize that your going to spend whatever holiday coming up next alone. You might even find it kind of nice in the long run! Hang in there, being alone isn't always bad and facing yourself means learning your own strengths and weaknesses, so do it no matter how strange and different it might feel.


4. Realize that you can say no. You do not have to sleep with anyone, date anyone, be with anyone, spend time with anyone if you do not want to. No is a powerful word and should be used whenever you feel necessary, Its okay to not want to do something, to respect yourself and to not feel bad for doing so. You control your own life so say no every once in awhile, set boundaries and learn the respect that you have and that others should have for you as well. Saying no does not make you a mean person.

5. Don't try to change people. People do NOT change unless they are willing to and want to. Do not try to change someone to fit your idea of a perfect soul mate, the right person wont need changing and if you are patient enough that right person will show up some day. Don't hurt yourself by trying to change someone who doesn't want to, that just means they are not the one and you should move along.

6. Don't take your grandma asking you a million times when you are going to get married as a sign that you are living life all wrong. She just wants to see you happy, and I think she will understand if that means yoga, college, or finding yourself! Just explain to grandma (and everyone else) that you are doing some soul searching first. They might even get a little jealous that you can be so independent! Loneliness isn't a bad thing!


7. Do not dwell on the fact that you are alone. Do not ask yourself whats wrong with you or why no one can love you. Its not a matter of why you aren't loved, its a matter of who is loving you! You are missing the fact that you love you, your family loves you, and your closest friends love you! Isn't that enough? It should be, and if its not maybe you should do some self evaluating as to why you don't feel like it is. Love comes in all different forms and sometimes the form of love that you need isn't exactly the kind you ask for but its enough trust me!

8. Remember to laugh, sometimes it gets hard and you feel like there is no light at the end of the tunnel, no one to hold you, no one to talk to. This is when you need to remember to laugh! Go have a good time! Read funny quotes on the Internet, stop taking life so seriously! Dance like no one is watching, call your sister or a family member and tell them how you feel so that they can cheer you up! Being single shouldn't be about realizing that your single and lonely, it should be about realizing that your single and free! Free to be whoever you want, to let go, to not have the responsibility of making someone else happy, just make yourself happy!

9. Stop pushing things to happen, If someone bails on that first date you planned together, let them! They are missing out on a great opportunity anyways. Don't have hard feelings towards them, its their loss! You shouldn't have to force people to see you, to like you, or to want to be with you! Let things happen naturally, love isn't something you have to push for, its not on a set agenda.


10. Lastly, Just be yourself!! Stop spending every second trying to find that special someone and just live your life! The time will come when you meet someone special but right now you have time to live for you! Which means to let love happen when it happens, stop going out of your way to find it and just enjoy loving yourself first! No one says you cant be single and enjoy it. There are many perks of being in a relationship, but there are also many perks about being single, so be single!! Go have fun and be yourself, stop dreading being alone and embrace it! Go find yourself, you rebel!

Love yours truly. :)

Monday, November 24, 2014

Birds and Bird Nests.


Grandma

what am I supposed to do when you keep showing up? A couple months ago I wrote about a Robin, a tiny little Robin that would come to the tiny tree outside my work at the same time everyday. I was, and still am convinced that it was my grandma, coming to say hello. Recently it has become cold, snowy and rainy, winter is coming. I had not seen the Robin for a couple months and it was making me sad. I just kept telling myself that my grandma was busy, that she was helping others and couldn't always send the Robin to sit outside my work window. The first snowfall came a couple weeks ago and I knew for sure there would be no more birds around, no more Robin, and no more grandma in that form. I went home on a Friday night a couple weeks ago, and came back that Monday and in that same little tree, on the same little branch that the Robin used to sit was a birds nest! A tiny little birds nest. I thought I was going to cry with excitement! Birds don't make nests in tiny little trees in the beginning of a cold winter!! My grandma had the little Robin  leave a nest, to show me that she is here always, through everything. This little nest has survived winds,and all the current snow storms, hanging on by a little branch in a little tree. It sits there still today, reminding me that I am not and will not ever be alone. Its not as exciting to watch as the little Robin ruffling its feathers, but it makes me smile every single time I see it hanging on to its little branch. I did some research and not all robins fly south for the winter, Robins usually travel by food source, not climate. It is possible that the little Robin made the nest but I wasn't seeing any birds, no birds were coming or going into the little tree. It was bare, almost bare of leaves and had nothing but the little nest in it. I am so happy that the birds nest is there! I took the time to stop all my co workers walking through the lobby to point it out, many of them told me how strange it was that a bird would start building a nest right before winter and i gleamed ear to ear and agreed. Little did they know that an angel built that nest. Today, I sat looking and checking to see if the nest was still there and I noticed something moving in the tree, so I looked closer. I couldn't tell if it was just a leaf or something else, I stared for a long moment. Then I realized, it was a little Robin, sitting, staring right at me! It took everything in me to not start crying. I see you grandma, I see what your doing. Just when I feel alone and like I cant handle things you send me a Robin and it makes me feel like I could conquer the world! People might think I am crazy, but I feel it. I feel the love that overwhelms me when that little Robin is sitting in the tree. Life is about noticing the little things and realizing that the big things are often disguised as these little things. I am so thankful to have such a wonderful guardian angel. Remember that "Robins" are everywhere, even sometimes when you don't notice them or realize that its happening. There is always someone watching over you, guiding you. The little Robin let me get right up to the tree and take a picture, but the lighting wasn't very good, I also took a picture of the birds nest when I first saw it a couple weeks ago (images are on the right)  I hope you enjoy the "Robins" in your life like I enjoy the "Robins" in mine.

Monday, November 17, 2014

Love is Forgiving

My parents


(my dad and my step mom) have been married/engaged for fourteen years. Fourteen years!! Now I say married/engaged because they have never really had a "real" wedding. They have never stood at an alter and said "I do" but I feel like they knew that they didn't need that to love each other, unconditionally, forever. Watching them as I grow up has taught me a lot about love. A lot about the fact that love is forgiving. Love forgives over and over again. I think the act of love is mostly that, learning to forgive and accept people even with their faults. They both screw up, they both get mad at each other and yell and tell each other that they suck but at the end of the day they go to bed together, laughing and telling each other they love each other. I want a love like that. I want a love that is messy, yet it never gives up. They have been together for fourteen years and I have never, not even once seen them not hold hands through the grocery store. I have never, not once seen them not kiss each other at least once a day. Their love is undying. They are always smiling and loving each other by the end of the day, no matter how hard it might seem. It is not always perfect, but no one told us that love was perfect. In fact I think that is just something we make up in our head, some vision we think love should be. It shouldn't be though because if it was you wouldn't have to make choices, you wouldn't have to choose everyday to love someone, you would just love them and that would make everything too easy, it would make love boring and dull. I want a love I have to fight for, a love I have to even fight with. Do not expect someone you love to be perfect, I mean has your parents, siblings, grandparents, been perfect? No. Yet you still love them, you still forgive them, so why would you expect your significant other to be perfect? My grandma and grandpa have been married for forty something years, they do not sleep in the same bed or the same room because my grandpa has MS (Multiple Sclerosis) and it is hard for him to sleep, yet their love is very much alive, very much undying. No matter how many times my grandpa runs into my grandmas nice painted walls with his wheelchair and says he's sorry every time, she loves him. Even though she has to bathe him everyday, and cut his hair with the clippers as he falls asleep sitting up in his wheelchair every other Tuesday, she still tells him she loves him every time she leaves the house. Love is forgiveness, it is taking the bad and saying all that bad, all that work is worth the end result. It is worth the hand holding, the I love yous, the laughs and the ability to spend time with one person for the rest of your life. My grandparents have been with each other longer than they have been alone.  Think about that. They have been next to each other day by day, longer than they have spend days alone, and they are happy with that. They are more than happy. Their love is hard, it is a lot of work for my grandma since my grandpa cannot do a lot by himself. A lot of people ask my grandma how she does it and how she hasn't just walked away yet. She always looks at them as if they are crazy and says, because I love him, how could I possibly leave my husband who I love, like that, in his state alone? That would be selfish of me wouldn't it? That is always her answer, love. It doesn't matter that my grandpa can no longer walk, that he has night terrors, he cant make his own meals and he is losing his eyesight, my grandma has undying love for him. For everything that he is, the caring man that he is. That is true love to me, sacrificing easy moments you could have alone for hard ones to help and support someone else.  Love is undying, no matter the circumstances, Love is all about how much you can live with, Love is forgiveness, an act of selflessness. Love is taking someone for the good the bad, the ugly and loving them through it all.  Love is forgiveness and I want a love that is forgiving, a love that is undying, a love like my parents and grandparents.

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Finding comfort

This


feeling is so raw. It just eats me up and spits me out. One day I am fine, the next I want to crawl deep under my cold sheets until they swallow me and never allow me to come out. My heart beats fast and I feel like if I just move wrong I will burst into tears, I will completely break down. No one tells you when you are diagnosed with anxiety or depression that you will live. No one. No one says if you just take deep breaths or bake a cake it will all go away, and that is because it doesn't. You live with this every damn day. Its a struggle and it is very much real. Its frustrating how real it is. How much it reminds you that its there at random times of the day. I can be happy, so so happy and then I get down on my knees and I give in and I break over and over again. The daily struggle wakes you up, like splashing cold cold water on your warm face. I fight everyday to be who I want to be. I fight everyday to not give up, to not bow down. If you have anxiety or depression, or you are like me and suffer from both I want to tell you something. I am sorry. I am so so sorry that something in your life made it hard for you to cope normally, to deal with everyday life. I am so sorry that you struggle. I am here to tell you though that you can overcome this! One thing I never wanted is to let myself become what I was diagnosed. I never want to be known as anxiety or depression and I tell myself that every time it swallows me up. "This is not me" You are not your disease, you are not your sickness do not make yourself be defined by something that brings you so low. Break free! People look at me and they see someone who is always happy. I have been defined as that "your always happy, I don't know how you do it!" I know how I do it, I do it because I know that at the end of the tough days I can go home, close the door and cry alone. No one sees that side because if I allowed that I would be "that girl who suffers from anxiety and depression" "That girl who is unstable,crazy" I do not want to become that. Everyday is a battle for me, making choices overwhelms me, talking to people sometimes overwhelms me, getting out of bed is hard, thinking normal thoughts can sometimes be hard. Normal day things become difficult and I can feel my throat tightening just thinking about it, so trust me when I say I relate to you, trust me when I say I feel your pain. It hurts and it tears at you from the inside.  I have known so many people who have lost their fight against depression and anxiety, it all became to much and they chose an easier way to deal with the pain. I am here to make sure that you will not be one of those people. I know its hard, it can all be too much but I am here to tell you to fight, to call your mom, your sister, your dad, your brother or your best friend, to break down if it helps but to pick yourself back up. Do NOT let your sickness define who you are. You are much more than that. You are a sister, a mother, a daughter, a best friend, a beautiful acquaintance, a husband, a father, a son. When you are anxious about something find the guts to do it anyways, even if you start crying thinking about it. If you are depressed remember that you are loved and today is a new day and it is beautiful even if that is sometimes hard to do, believe it. You are not suffering alone. You have the strength to get through every single day. You have the strength to say that you will not be defined by anxiety and depression. You are not alone, an estimated 14.8 million adults suffer from depression and an estimated 40 million adults suffer from anxiety disorder. You are more than that, more than that statistic,so much more you are a person who is not alone. Find your support system and hold onto it tight. I know personally that some days are easier than others. You are going to be okay, I promise. Just remember who you really are "this disease, this sickness, this is not me."

Tuesday, November 4, 2014

Lists of Happy

Things to be happy about:




  • Sunshine
  • Good Books
  • Strong Coffee
  • A strangers laughter
  • Sleeping with the window open
  • Being alive
  • Chocolate Chip Cookies
  • People who tell the truth
  • Dancing in the rain
  • Lists
  • Children actually playing outside
  • The first snowfall
  • Feeling Beautiful
  • Pomegranates
  • Wishful Thinking
  • Good Movies
  • Meeting new friends
  • Spending time with old friends
  • Bookstores
  • Breakfast Foods
  • Hot Showers
  • Clothes that just came out of the dryer
  • Good deeds
  • Sunsets
  • Camping and the smell of campfire
  • Rescuing Stray Kittens
  • Warm Hugs
  • Banana Smoothies
  • Discovering new music 
  • Ice cream in the winter
  • Visiting new places
  • Just being happy
   If you ever feel sad, please remember that there are a million things to be happy about and these are just a few of them. You deserve to smile, you deserve to be happy. You are loved and you have plenty of things to make you smile again. Don't give up hope, things are just starting to get better,I promise! Read this list if you ever forget what makes you happy, maybe write your own list of happiness, the world needs more happy and it starts with you :) 

Thursday, October 30, 2014

Who am I?

Sometimes 


I read through my own blog. That is right I read my stories over and over. I don't know if its to get a sense of what is happening in my life because most of the time I am not entirely sure, or if it is just to remember what I wrote. Some days after reading them I think to myself what is this? What am I becoming? Did I really write that? Then I think about deleting it, all of it. Not because I hate my blog, its nothing like that. Its because sometimes I do not know who that girl writing is. She is often sad and confused, often full of overwhelming things. Its raw. Its raw to read things about yourself that you are so open about on paper yet shut off inside when it comes to real life. Its often hard to read what I write. Its hard to believe I once felt that way. Its also hard to believe the strong moments. The posts that are built up and towering with strength. Those ones are hard too because sometimes I do not remember feeling that strong. Then I remember that I am that strong and I sometimes, yes sometimes break down. I always wanted my blog to be positive. I wanted there to be a take away, a happy ending, something someone could learn from me and my writing. Sometimes I notice my blog doesn't have that, and that depresses me, that is what makes me want to hit the delete button. How can I write a  blog that isn't meant for inspiring for uplifting? Lately I have been a negative Nancy, nothing too inspiring about that at all. So I asked myself, what kind of person do I want to be? What kind of person do I want to be for myself? For others? For the people I love? Who do I want to be? The answer is just Meaghan. I want to be uplifting, inspiring, independent, loving.  I want people to want to be around me, I don't want to be smothering, I don't want to be hateful and sad. That is just not who I am, therefore I do not know who the girl writing my blog posts lately have been and I want to apologize to my readers for that. I haven't been myself lately. In fact, I don't know if I have ever been as much as myself as I am now. I feel stronger, more independent and that is a wonderful feeling. Being positive feels wonderful! Getting over the humps is what it takes, and it feels so good to get there. It feels refreshing to be able to leave my phone in my car when I am shopping or doing fun things, the text messages can wait, everything on my phone can wait.  I do not need to be attached to anyone. It feels good to let go, to live and do things I want to do. I want to be more supportive and understanding, I often let my emotions cloud my vision and I get angry or sad over stupid little things. Id like to change that. I am all about self improvement and I believe I have finally found myself to be able to improve who I am. I am finally comfortable in my own skin, no more being insecure or sad. I know who I want to be, I know the person I am striving to become and she is not the person who has been writing this blog. Do you know who you want to be and what you are willing to do to become that person? Stay positive and radiant and remember, you got this.



Wednesday, October 29, 2014

What are Imperfections worth?

I looked at you


and I saw the exact person I wanted. You were flawed, messy, hard to deal with and I soaked you in like a plant soaking up the sun in a window pane. You were the light of my heart. Someone that filled me to the brim with happiness. It amazed me how you could do that, fill me so full just by sitting there, staring at me. You had a strange gravitational pull that sucked me in and swallowed me without me even giving up a fight. You were your own kind of dysfunctional beauty, you were not perfect, not by a long shot and that is what captivated me the most. How can you love perfect? How can you love something that isn't flawed, that doesn't have a scar or two? You need someone scuffed up, rough around the edges like you are. I loved you for your imperfections, for our two a.m fights and our three a.m make up sessions. You would kiss me like your life depended on it during those make up sessions, you'd hold me and we would say sorry to each other. It would all be okay for one more night. You were not perfect, neither was I, and neither was our love but that is what captivated me, what dragged me by my hair and stuck me right in the middle of all of it. There is something about an imperfect love that you cannot resist. It might be for the fact that love isn't supposed to be perfect, it is messy and flawed and sometimes it hurts like hell, but the beauty of it is how you can push through those things, how you love someone so much that all the fights, all the pain becomes worth it because simply put, that person is worth it. You were a free spirit, wild crazy, and untamable and who was I to tame you? You ran free, blessing everything you touched with a soft soft love that could take over the world. This is how you took over my soul, piece by piece, smile by smile. You took all of me, every once of me that I had left in my soul and swallowed it, you engulfed me in a love so passionate so strong that I thought nothing could tear us apart, we were one. You were something else, unlike any human I have ever met, it was so easy to love you, so easy to take full stock of you and say this is him, this is the man I have been waiting for. You took my heart, squished it in a backpack and rode of into the sunset with it. I was madly in love with someone who was not perfect, someone who knew how to fight with me, who knew how to be stubborn and angry. Who knew how to push my buttons, but I learned that pushing those buttons was a test, a test of my strength of my will to fight for you and never give up, because I was a fighter, a full blown, hell raising fighter. Your love could move mountains, and it made me realize that I could move mountains for it. I could pay you back, I could fill your lungs with so much love that you could gasp at the thought of it. I could be your flawed, imperfect person and you could accept me, because I accepted you, all of you. You could breathe me in like some kind of drug and get drunk off of the smell of my perfume. I could be everything you wanted. I could drown you in a sea of kisses, like you drowned me. Love is tough, loving you was even tougher, but I did it over and over because you deserved it. You deserved that kind of love, the kind you fight for. Regardless of your imperfections, regardless of mine. We deserved each other, we deserved a kind of love that could move mountains, that could shake the earth. That kind of love doesn't give up, that kind of love is forever binding. That is the kind of love I crave, your love, your imperfect, shaken love, that is what I want, but this isn't a fairy tale,I am not a princess, and you are definitely not my prince.

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Stuckness, is that a word?

I cannot

believe how many rough drafts I have saved on here lately. I write about a half a page and think about posting it and then I don't. Its just all jumbled. Every once of words I type lately have been utterly empty. I guess you write how you feel. Empty empty empty. If you repeat it enough times that word becomes funny, but I guess if you repeat anything enough times it becomes funny. I feel dangerous lately, like I'm stuck in a cocoon I would do anything to get out of. I have resulted to sleeping with the window open and listening to slow music in the morning to try and help my stuckness. Is that even a word? My spell check says its not, but I will leave it there, stuckness, feels a lot like saying empty. Empty and Stuckness have become my constants. I don't find that as much of a problem as you think. Sometimes you have to be empty, because if your empty the days mesh together and you forget when its Friday or your birthday. Your just living, breathing, doing. Conquering. I am conquering off of my empty stuckness. If you are a grammar control freak I bet stuckness is a hard word for you to read, not for me because I made it up and I like the way it sounds. It describes me. A word that doesn't exist but is made up of letters and words that do. Stuckness, yeah I like that. I forgot what it felt like to laugh at words and to breathe other people in. Empty empty empty. I think I am empty? Am I really though, I am not so sure. I think I remember how to feel, I think I remember that I laugh sometimes and I enjoy it. I guess I am not empty. Just having a loss of words. Stuckness. That's still a word I can be. Stuck without words, stuck stuck stuck. How am I supposed to write when I have so much going on in my head? How am I supposed to decide. I'm working on my stuckness. The windows are open and I am trying to feel free. You cant write when you feel stuckness because your words are empty, hollow, empty empty. I will not claim to have writers block because that is something else, that is something that is not stuckness. I am almost half way through the page and I have talked about nothing, empty. I thought about erasing this, no need for one more rough draft. I think I'll post it anyways because I like the word stuckness and the fact that for once I can make up a word to laugh at. Sometimes you have to do that, invent your own feelings. Stuckness Stuckness. Its actually better than saying empty, but I am coming to the conlclusion that maybe in my head they mean the same thing? Whatever I am, what ever I feel that is it. I am exactly that, but for now I am a blank white page, I am a word I made up, the feeling of stuckness, a rambling blog post. I am this and I am nothing at all and everything at once. I am Meaghan. When I figure out what else I am I will be sure to tell you, until then stuckness stuckness stuckness. 

Thursday, October 9, 2014

Good Morning Sunshine

I awoke


with a bright luminous light shining through my window, with my hair a mess and drool on my pillow case from my deep slumber. I stretched, smiled and stood up. I awake everyday like this, the moon still shining through my curtains and my hair always out of place, strung across my face from the dreams I had. There are days I am significantly grateful to be alive and there are days that in some way or another I am not so grateful but I get up, stretch and smile anyways. There are things you sometimes simply have to do, and getting up out of bed is one of them as hard as it sometimes might feel. You legs sometimes feel tied down by bricks and your body aches from yesterdays activities but you can either moan and groan about it or you can stretch, smile, and stand up. Living is for the living, waking up is for the living and if you don't embrace it what else do you have to embrace? Your morning is the start to everything. The start of how the rest of your day will be.The beautiful thing about mornings is that you get to decide how they go. I have the same routine every morning, wash my face, do my hair, do my makeup, get dressed, make lunch, eat, and listen to amazing music on my drive to work. I try my hardest to wake up positive, to think positive. If you wake up with the mindset that nothing is going to go right today you are 100% right. A lot of people claim to "not be morning people" and it always shocks me. How can you not be a morning person?! Everything is so much more beautiful when you first wake up, its like you are rising with the sun. The world is calm and quiet, all you can hear is the rustle of the world starting its morning. Everything's crisp and waking up, coming alive. I find happiness in walking out to my car and seeing the moon, beaming in all its glory, yet the sun is rising too, peaking over the mountains. The sun and the moon are having a meeting, saying good night and good morning all at once and its all just simply beautiful. How could you not love that? How could you not love the smell of your eggs cooking, or your coffee brewing, or just simply knowing you have survived one more day? Mornings are beautiful and captivating but a lot of people miss all that. They miss the beauty in waking up one more time. The beauty of the world and what waking up means. Waking up to me means strength, it means living, and why would you not love that? Embrace your mornings, because its another chance to start all over again. There is nothing wrong with mornings unless you convince yourself that there is. Stretch your hands towards your ceiling, dance, yawn, smile do whatever it takes to make your morning wonderful. You can fall asleep upset, or crying but if you wake up with happiness you will understand the beauty that a morning holds, the beauty that you survived through all that. The definition of morning is the period of time between midnight and noon, especially from sunrise to noon. That definition in itself is beautiful, think about it. Midnight is 12:00am and noon is 12:00pm that is a wonderful statement because it is the same time but a different time all at once, its like even time is being reborn. You must look at mornings different than you have been taught in order to enjoy them. Morning to me is coming alive and there is nothing better than that. I rise and welcome the sunshine. Become a morning person and you will become a happy person. Wake up and embrace your life because you never know when your last morning will be your last. Wake up happy because you aren't the only one waking up, you are not alone. The world is one with you.

Tuesday, October 7, 2014

Am I Worthy Enough?

A couple days ago


I hit my breaking point. I called a friend and vented to him telling him I didn't know what to do, that my life was so complicated and I just let everything out. Specifically about my love life, because I felt like I couldn't tell anyone else. People say that if you are in love, you will know it. You wont have any doubt in your mind. I have found that to be false. Love is sometimes more complicated than that, it gets sticky, and you don't know what others are truly feeling unless they show you, and sometimes they don't seem to know how to do that. The thing you have to remember though, is that you can't force them to show you. They can say I love you a million times but if you feel mixed signals between what they are saying and what they are actually doing then you have to step back and really look at what is happening. Do they need you, or do they need someone? There is a difference. My head and my heart have been in battle about someone that I care deeply about for a very long time. Its exhausting. I have tried everything, text messages, letters, deep conversations,not talking to him, talking to him, everything to get him to show me how he really feels to get a reaction out of him (not just tell me,but show me.) If I remember correctly, I told my friend on the phone that I felt like a puppy begging for this guys attention. I feel needy, like I am begging to be loved, and not just by anyone but by this one certain guy. Its exhausting and so time consuming and in the midst of it all, this guy should be the one begging me for my love, but that is the problem. I love and I love deeply, strongly and I don't stop showing that no matter how bad I have been hurt by someone, I have no boundaries because I put to much faith in people. I frustrate myself with how much I beg him because my brain tells me I shouldn't but deep down I think that I know that if I didn't beg, he wouldn't try to chase me and we would drift apart and I would have to fight like hell to get over him. So the question always is, do you fight like hell to get over someone, or do you fight like hell to convince them your worth loving? That's the thing though, aren't you enough without all the convincing? Aren't you worth loving regardless? You should be, and if you don't feel like you are maybe you should look at yourself again, more clearly. You are enough, and some people just cant seem to see that, but why is it your job to convince them that they should see it? Its not your job, it simply isn't. My friend I called was upset with me, he said you are smarter than that and you are stronger than that. You are an independent woman who shouldn't beg for any mans attention, if he cant give it to you willingly than that is his loss because why wouldn't he want to? There is no excuse, you are gorgeous, smart, funny and you know what you are doing. You are not dumb, you are smart. You have so much worth and I think you have known it all along. You just have refused to confront it, You have been dumbing down your worth because you are afraid. You are the strongest person I know and you have been living your life by yourself for awhile now, you support yourself, you know what you like and what you want and you know how to go out there and get it, you do not need someone who doesn't need you.  You are laying down and dying for someone who doesn't seem to give a shit, as long as your convenient, he will be there to "want" you. You have to decide if you are ready to die or if you are going to stand up and live. He told me that whatever I decided he would support me but that I am the only one who could load that shot gun and shoot it. I wanted to thank him for making me realize my worth, because for awhile now I haven't. I woke up this morning seeing myself in a whole new light. Do not forget what you are worth. Do not forget the power you have. You don't give yourself the credit you deserve. People love you, tons of people and a lot of them don't need convincing to do so, so the question is, is it worth it? I have chose to walk away, because what is there left to fight for if I am the only one fighting? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.Life is complicated, and there are things you want to fight and fight for but then you realize your armor is falling off and your facing reality. There will be times when you want something so bad, but then after awhile you realize you cant want it anymore, there's only so much you can take. You can accomplish anything, even the biggest decisions, like to keep fighting for a love you are not sure still exists or to give up and find a new love.This is your life, you have the strength to make those decisions do not forget your worth and what you are worthy of accomplishing. I am worthy of more, the question is, are you?

Monday, September 22, 2014

Living Without You

The hardest


part of losing someone isn't losing them, the hardest part is learning to live without them. You lose them more than once. You loose them every time you see a movie you watched together or their favorite song comes on your Pandora station and you cant decide if you should change it or listen to it. Its a sinking feeling that never goes away and just when you think it could be disappearing, you find their shirt in your laundry and you want to tell them you have it, but you cant because their gone and that losing feeling, the fact that your living without them hits you all over again. Losing someone is a constant, aching job. Its not a one day thing, its every day over and over again. You lose them when you wake up and roll over and they aren't on their side of the bed next to you,holding you; so you decide to sleep in the middle for fear of waking up again and realizing your alone. You loose them when you are waiting for a good morning text or goodnight phone call that never comes. Its a vicious cycle, of losing losing losing. In every moment that you wish you could tell them about, in wanting to tell them about your day but they are gone, being lost. Losing someone is a full time commitment of never texting, never calling. Of aching so deep inside that you feel like you are sinking into the middle of  the earth, through a puddle. Loss never ends, learning to live without someone never ends. Your not okay for a very very long time, in fact you don't know if you will ever be okay, because you didn't think you could live without that person, without hearing their laugh, without their presence. You realize you are, your living without them and its the hardest damn thing that you have ever done and your not good at it. You aren't good at loss, at waking up alone, at song lyrics that remind you of them. It all just sucks and you just want to cry or scream because your not good at any of it. You loose them when you think about kissing them and running your fingers through their hair, or when you just want someone to hug all your broken pieces back together. You lose them in pictures and sayings, in quotes you read that remind you of every inch of their soul. In t-shirts they bought you for your birthday that you can no longer wear anymore because you see them in it when you look in the mirror. You lose them in their favorite restaurants and words that come out of your mouth that they used to say. You wake up every day knowing that its another day you can lose them all over again and you realize its not losing that's hard its living without them, its having a constant memory that never goes away. Losing someone is hard but living without them is harder.

Friday, September 19, 2014

Del Taco Kisses

Yesterday


I drove to Del Taco on my lunch break. I had been craving chicken tacos and a strawberry lemonade for two days straight. I walked in, ordered my tacos and waited. As I was waiting, I saw these two women, both pretty people, with long hair, dressed in jeans and pink t-shirts. It was just the two women and me standing, waiting for our tacos. All of the sudden the two women started hugging each other and kissing, they looked at each other like they didn't need anything or anyone else, just each other. They were laughing and enjoying being next to one another. These two women were in love.  I couldn't help but stare at them! I was watching them not on purpose, when one of them gave me a dirty look,realizing that I was staring. I bet she is sick of people staring. I want the two women who were madly in love at Del Taco to know that I was not staring because I thought your kissing was gross, I was not staring because I think being gay, lesbian or whatever you want to call it is a sin. I was staring because I was amazed, and happy. I was amazed that love can be so strong, that it can overcome any tough obstacle that is thrown at it. Lets be honest, I was not the only person in Del Taco staring at these two women. Everyone was staring, the workers, the people sitting down eating. I wish I was brave. Brave like the two women in love at Del Taco. They knew what would happen when they kissed, they knew that people would judge them because by the look on that woman's face it had happened before. People could be upset by the scene of these two women kissing but they did it anyways because they loved each other. They kissed and held hands because they loved each other, they kissed because they feel like they have the right to love each other and  they do. I bet Del Taco isn't the first or only place these women have been stared at. I'm sure its a constant occurring thing for them but they kiss anyways. I was happy that they did and they were not shy about it. Love comes in all shapes, forms, and sizes and who is anyone to judge or say that is wrong? If someone told me that I couldn't love someone, I would love them anyways. You cant stop a feeling, you cant tell someone to not feel a certain way and expect them to do it. You love who you love regardless of what anyone thinks. I am a proud supporter of Gay, Lesbian rights, because who am I to fight against love? Why would I want to? I am allowed to kiss a guy in public without getting stared at or without someone being appalled. What is the difference with a woman kissing a woman or a man kissing a man? Its all love isn't it? Who you love isn't my business. I support you if you are happy, because everyone deserves to be with whoever makes them happy and if that happens to be another man or another woman I support you all the way. When will the world stop judging? When will we decide enough is enough? People don't want to be judged because of their religion but they want to judge others for who they decide to be with? When will love just be love regardless of who's kissing? To everyone who is Gay and/or lesbian and are not afraid to show the world, I am so proud of you for standing up for love. I am so proud of you for being who you are and excepting it, regardless of if the world excepts it too. I will stand up and support you, because love deserves to be supported no matter your gender, age, shape, or looks. Thank you to the women at Del Taco for showing me that love still exists, and love is strong enough to conquer the world even if the world doesn't except it. Keep kissing the ones you love because those who matter don't mind, and those who mind don't matter.

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Waking Up Somewhere Else

Its funny


when you wake up and your somewhere else. I don't mean somewhere else psychically, I mean mentally, in your brain. You wake up and you realize you are somewhere different, somewhere you aren't sure of. You roll over, sit up straight and you are in an ah ha moment where you just ask yourself, "what am I doing?" For awhile now I haven't known what I am doing. I haven't known what I want, and I have filled myself with ideas. Ideas that I need to be alone, but I don't know if it was because I really needed to be alone, or because I didn't think I deserved not to be alone. There is one person on this planet I promised myself I would never be like, and I hate to admit it but I am like her more than I want to be. I am a lot like my mother, I run when things get tough, scary,or unsure, and I hide behind excuses. Back to what I was saying though, I woke up somewhere else. I woke up in a place that was clear, where I could finally see. There was no confusion to what I am supposed to be doing. I am supposed to be surrounded by people who love me, people who would do anything for me, people who deserve me and one of those people consist of you. I was blinded though, blinded by my past, by following my mothers footsteps emotionally even though I have been trying so hard not to. All my mother ever wanted was for a man to love her. I mean truly love her. She looked for this love in shallow places and misunderstood actual love for greed and lies. I cant remember how many boyfriends she had, there were to many to count. From the time I was twelve on, I just started calling them all by their psychical features you know, shorty, tall, baldy, the one with the tattoo, they no longer had names to me. I couldn't name them because they didn't last very long. They would cheat on her, leave her for someone else, or "it just didn't work out". It was a mean cycle of listening to her cry, them breaking up and getting back together only to break up again, and driving with her past their house for proof or revenge, depending on her mood. She thought she was in love with every single one of those men.She thought that she could convince them to love her back. That's one quality my mom had that wasn't flawed, she loved, she loved a lot, without expecting, even after getting broken over and over again she treated every new lover like the first lover she had ever had. My mom was searching for something, something she couldn't find in her kids, or her family, and something she thought she could find in every low life man that she introduced me to. I hated seeing her get hurt, I told myself that I never wanted to fall in love if that was all that love was. This was the only form of love from a women's point of view that I was taught, I was taught by my mother that love isn't real. I remember one night with one of her boyfriends, I was woken up in the middle of the night by them fighting, screaming at each other. I ran out of my room to tell them to shut up because my little brother was sleeping (and I thought I was the woman of the house) I ran out just in time to see a picture frame that was hanging in our stair well get thrown at my mom  by this man who "loved" her. I remember telling the so called boyfriend at the time to get out and to never come back. He left but came back the next morning and him and my mom were fine, like nothing had even happened the night before. I was angry at her for excepting this form of "love" I thought to myself how that wasn't love, how could you throw something and scream a horrible word to call a lady at someone you loved? He didn't love her, and I knew it, he left and never came back about a week later. That was one of her "it didn't work out" scenarios. The worst part about all of this was that my mom didn't blame herself for all these mistaken loves, she blamed every man she ever dated. It was their fault it didn't work out, it wasn't hers for choosing the wrong type of man, it wasn't her fault that she fell in love with people who didn't know how to love her back. I learned that every man is likely to leave me or hurt me. The saddest part is, I am being just like my mom. I blame every problem I have ever had on the few years that she had to raise me. I blame the fact that I don't know how to love, that I am scared to love on the experiences that she gave me. I blame the fact that I am mad, hurt, depressed, and have anxiety on my mom. Until this morning when I woke up, sat up and realized that this is my life not my moms. I don't have to choose crappy men. I don't have to wonder who loves me and who doesn't, if you watch carefully its clear to see. I don't have to be angry at her because she choose a crappy path for her own life and it just happened to effect me. I am sick of playing the blame game. I am sick of being like her and making up excuses for the crappy situations that I get myself in. I have been through a lot but that gives me no excuse to make up excuses or hurt people. It gives me no excuse to be afraid, or choose something because its familiar even though I know its not right, even if I know its not the ideal situation for me to be in. I know there is real loving men out there, I know that there is also crappy ones who pretend to care and I know that sometimes I can be a pretty crappy person too. I know that I have hurt people and its time to start explaining myself, its time to fix my life. Do not blame others for your not so ideal situations, remember you chose to be in that situation. I might have not chosen how my mom chose to raise me, to teach me, to not teach me ,but I do get to decide how I take that information and learn from it, how I choose to let it effect my life. Growing up wasn't ideal. I did not have the best time growing up, and I went through a lot, but that is no excuse. I woke up somewhere else, somewhere where my problems are fixable, my mind is clearer and I am ready to move on, and correct my life,I am starting with you. You know who you are.For once I love someone who is worth loving, who thinks I am worth loving, who understands me, who is worth more than I have been showing lately.I have missed you every second, I want you to know that if your reading this. Its time to woman up. If you are not happy with your life fix it. If you are making excuses for your own choices, or blaming others stop. You can be happy, but first you have to smooth out all the bumps and bruises, and it might be hard but remember its right and you will be happy because of it.

Monday, September 8, 2014

Hurricanes Aren't Meant for Failure, They Are Set Up to Conquer.

I refuse to


let you climb into the walls of my heart and eat it alive like an infestation of termites again. I refuse to let you effect the water that streams down my cheeks after finding out what you have been up to. You do not deserve my salty, water filled eyes. You deserve a desert, a desert that will forever effect my face after hearing the news. You lied. You lied to me when you said you would get better, that you would be a better person for me, for us. You made the mistake of not remembering that I know you, I lived inside of you, and climbed out stronger than you could ever be. I was raised and born in a fire that you started, and I have survived every hell and heated moment since then. I will not be torn down by your selfish decisions, I will rise. I will take your lessons with a grain of salt and I will stand on an empire that I alone will build. With my two strong, callused hands I will be better than you ever were, than you ever could be. This is not a competition, this is a battle to fight my way out of my fate, my fate that says that I will end up like you, my fate that says I will look like a ghost, that I will wander the halls of my life not knowing where to turn, that I will abandon everything I was ever taught by people who were not you. I will not give in. I wasn't meant to be a ghost, I was meant to be a storm, a strong two handed, hell raising storm. I will fight with every being I have to make sure that I will not become you. I will become greater, smarter, stronger. My life is not yours, and your life is not mine. You are not a role model, you are a weakened soul that has no power, you gave in, you did not win against the fight of your life and for that I am torn. Saddened and split at my very seams, my heart is hurting, for you were not strong enough. You are not like me and I wish so much that you were. You built me, and showed me the way that I should not travel, but you failed to follow my path, you failed to understand that the way you are living isn't a life at all. You are contained behind a wall for what you did and you will forever be in and out of that wall until you give up, until you decide enough is enough, and by then it might be to late. You are not my role model, you are not someone I can look up to, you have chosen to live in darkness, to lie, to be deceitful, to do whatever it takes to live the low life you have become accustomed to. Look around you, look at who you have hurt, look at who you have become. I have no idea who you are anymore and when people ask I will tell them you are what I am fighting to not become. You are the person who has made one too many mistakes. I am not you and I will never be. I am stronger, smarter and that is the only gift you have blessed me with. I will not cry for you anymore, I have become numb, accustomed to your behavior and I will no longer let your faults effect me. I am not you and I will not be dragged and worn out like an old sweater by the decisions you are making. You do not deserve that kind of power over me, you do not deserve to see the strong, bold person I am becoming. Who I am becoming hasn't needed you this whole time. I am a storm, a hurricane and you have mistaken me for a small wind, I am building and I am overcoming you and there is nothing you can do.  Watch me rise and become bigger than you have ever seen, bigger than you ever were. Look at what you built, look at what I have become, are you happy now?

Wednesday, September 3, 2014

Heavy Hearts and Understanding Human Talk

"The Biggest


communication problem is that we do not listen to understand. We listen with the intent to reply." This quote is something that I have been analyzing and trying to fix within myself for a very long time. When we are fixed with rage, anger, hurt or sadness we do not care about anything besides defending ourselves. It is a selfish act that usually causes more hurt, resentment and arguing. I think that we as humans, can be really selfish sometimes. We do not try to understand where other people are coming from, we live in an "its all about us" mindset. When you break that mindset and start realizing how important it is to try and understand where others are coming from you will see a change within your life. Most people do not do things with the intent to hurt others, they usually have something personally going wrong within their own lives which causes them to act out. Not taking the time to really listen and understand where they are coming from makes them feel the need to protect themselves therefore this leads to arguing and raised voices. What people do not understand is that you do not have to reply to a conversation immediately, tell the person you are thinking and analyzing what they just said, you also do not have to yell back if someone is already yelling at you. Take your time. Think about what you want to say and what the right thing to say is before just blurting something out out of anger or hurt. Analyze what others are saying. If someone you care about is screaming at you that they hate you, what are they really trying to say? Chances are they are trying to say "you hurt me, I am angry, and I do not know what to do about it" Refrain yourself from yelling back that you hate them too. That only escalates the problem and means that you were not really gathering all the information that the other person was trying to give you. Humans are flawed in the sense that we suck at communicating. We do not know how to say what we really feel, out of fear, hurt, or anger. Be the person to break that cycle. Remember to listen to understand not to reply. I guarantee that you will also feel better and less worked up because you are no longer fighting, you are working on resolving, and trying to figure out how other people feel and what you did or didn't do to make them feel that way.It could even make you a better communicator, changing the "I hate yous" into what you really mean to say. Half of the problems people have have nothing to do with you, your mind just takes everything personally so you convince yourself that their problems are caused by you. What others do not want to admit is that they are most likely the cause of most of their own issues, so they tend to blame the people they care about. Do not take it to heart, like I said, analyze and respond in a way that will solve problems not escalate them. Yelling at someone has never solved one of my issues I do not know about yours but I am guessing you agree. Listen to understand, not to reply and your view of people and yourself will change. Stay positive, even in arguments or disagreements, things aren't always how you see them to be, neither are people.


Tuesday, September 2, 2014

This Gift Called My Life

I don't


want to wake up today, or tomorrow and realize that I haven't been living my life the way I want to. I want to jump of cliffs, give big hugs, and laugh a lot. I want to be so full of joy that i forget what sadness feels like. I want to be so hung up on happiness that I no longer care what time it is or how long I have been laughing for. I want to be sunsets, and mixtures of bold colors on canvases. I am not ordinary, therefore I do not want my life to be determined by white walls, empty juice boxes or packages. I want to paint my kitchen the color of the sunset that's going on right now and I want to have a paint fight while I do it. I do not want to be restricted by time, or normal human issues. I want to feel the cool breeze of Autumn blowing around my hair, and see the leaves changing colors of red and yellow. I want ice cream containers and all nighters. I want colorful bedspreads and pillow fights. I want to sleep hard and long in a place I call home and I want to wake up happy, an everyday kind of happy. I want my worries to be small and as insignificant as possible because I am too busy smiling and enjoying the time I have. I want to be surrounded by a family that keeps growing and keeps giving hugs to each other no matter how old they get. I want tickle fights and building forts in my living room while drinking wine and listening to music. My life will not be filled with depressing news letters, and uncooked TV dinners, plans that are made a month in advance because my calendar is so full. My life will be lived, enjoyed, cherished. I do not want to wake up today, or tomorrow and realize that I have been living my life the wrong way, wasted in TV screens, video games, or texting. I want to see you face to face, embrace you and talk about nothing but good times without checking my phone once. I want to be a lifter upper, a healer, and someone who supports everyone around me. I would like to live my life filled with smiles and laughter, with heartfelt jokes and tears of joy. Filled with books that have worn out pages and belong on my bookshelf's that take up a whole room and scale the walls. I want to laugh so hard that whoever/whatever made me will hear me and notice that I have taken this life in, that I have loved their gift. Their gift called my life. Your life is a gift, a gift that if you let it, keeps on giving. Smile, laugh, laugh a lot. This gift is only given once, soak it up and enjoy it. You too will not want to wake up today, or tomorrow and realize that you haven't been living your life the way you want to.

Friday, August 29, 2014

Protector, Big Sister, and Best Friend

If someone


would've told me growing up that I couldn't protect my little brother I would laugh in their face and most likely call them names. He was my best friend. The person who would help me when I fell off my bike. He was the boy that I protected, I once beat up an older boy for picking on him after school. I was the big sister and I swore I'd protect him until the day I died. I remember the day he came home from the hospital, you don't think I would seeing how I was only 3 but I do. I remember his little hands and the way I wanted to hold him so so bad! I was so excited to have a little brother and I swore that I would take care of him. Growing up I practically raised him, making him Mac and Cheese for dinner and sleeping next to him after I made him watch The Ring with me. He was my little brother. Now he's not so little anymore. He is 18 in September, he is driving a car, almost on his last year of high school, he is taller and his voice has changed. It makes me the saddest person in the world. I can no longer tackle him to the ground and hold him there because he has outgrew me. My little brother no longer needs my protection. Recently he just suffered his first heartbreak and I am upset about it because I know how it feels. I want to take his pain away and quite frankly punch the girl in the face, but I can't, I can no longer protect him. I remember my first real heartbreak, it was miserable and I thought my world had come to an end. He asked me what he was supposed to do and for once I couldn't help him, you cannot fix a broken heart. All I could do was give him advice and I felt helpless. It was the first real moment that I couldn't make him feel better. I didn't know how hard growing up would be, I think the hardest part for me is watching my siblings grow up and go through some of the same things I did, knowing I cannot help. My brother told me he wants her back, he wants to work things out and I wanted to scream at him "DON'T DO IT!!" Because it hurts, love hurts and I want to keep him sheltered. I want him to not have to go through what I went through, but I couldn't say that. When you are in love, or you think you are in love you will do whatever it takes for that significant person regardless of what others advice to you is. I think my brother deserves all the happiness in the world, and to never be hurt or broken hearted but unfortunately that isn't possible. I am lucky to have such a great bond with my brother and to be the one he asks for advice, I just wish I could stop the pain. It hurts to see people you love hurt. It sucks to grow up, to understand fully what is happening. I love my family and I would do anything to protect them but I glad my brother is learning. He is learning how to love, how to not love, and how to grow as a beautiful person. I would take away all the pain if I could but then he would never learn. All I can do as a big sister now is stand and support him. I was lucky to grow up with my siblings and to form and unbreakable bond like the one I have with my brother. Remember that you cant always take away the pain but you can give wonderful advice because you have been there. Support your family and love your life. Becoming an adult isn't all that bad when you are surrounded by people you love, who will be there to support you and cheer you on. I am sorry little brother. I love you and things will get better!

Thursday, August 21, 2014

New Found Love

I have found a new


found love. I am sure as a active reader of my blog (that is if you are an active reader) you are used to me saying something along these lines, to you I am always falling in love. Let me be honest when I say I have loved a lot of people. I am a giver of my own heart. I once read a quote somewhere that said I am a believer of love, but I fear that love doesn't quite believe in me. I have loved, loved a lot, a little, fearlessly, strongly, and maybe to much but there is one thing I am certain through all these lost loves of mine, no one has quite been able to love me back. The definition of love is "an intense feeling of deep affection" by rule of this definition I believe that everyone has loved a lot of people in many different ways, shapes, and forms. You can feel deep affection for a lot of people, a deep affection for their smile, their laugh, the way they say your name, or maybe everything about them. I have loved people without questioning their love for me back and this has resulted in a lot of pain, a lot of sorrow on my part but that is the risk I take. I love people because I think everyone needs it. I think everyone deserves it. The only problem is, I thought everyone deserved love but me. I was giving without expecting anything. I have experienced a lot of different kinds of love. People have different ways of showing how they feel about you, but I don't ever think it was the right way, the way I wanted. People have a way of telling you how much they love you and turning around and showing the opposite. That's the thing about love, it can only be shown through actions, you can tell someone you love them all you want but if you show them differently they will never believe you. I was always shown differently. That is where my heart and mind conflict would begin, my mind would keep telling me that someone loved me as long as someone kept saying it, but then my heart would begin to question it as long as that someone would show me differently through their actions. I would become emotionally and mentally torn on if they loved me or if they didn't. I learned that you shouldn't have to question it like that. Then this man came along, in a part of my life where I was positive I didn't want to try the whole love thing again. I had just gotten out of a relationship that was a very very hard one for me emotionally. I wanted to learn to love myself more. I wanted to give myself love for once because I realized how much I didn't give to myself. This man has shown his love for me from day one, he opens my doors, asks me a million times in one day if I am okay. He is always thoughtful and always kind. I am not used to someone loving me because I have always been the lover. I feel bad because recently this has scared me. I am not used to someone caring so much about me and I remember telling a friend that I find it annoying. Last night I laid in bed and thought really really hard about that statement, about saying that. I realized that I am telling myself its annoying because now that someone finally gives me the love I deserve I am afraid. Admittedly I am terrified that I cant love him back, that I have become to accustomed to not being loved enough. I feel bad. I feel terrible for calling someone who loves me so much annoying when really its not annoying its thoughtful and I am just to afraid to get attached again, to be loved. I actually am in love with how much he loves me. I am in love with the fact that for once I have opened up to someone and he has opened up right back. I am both terrified and happy with the fact that for once, once in my life love just might believe in me as much as I believe in it. I want to say that I am happy. I evaluated myself and recognized why I do certain things. You have to understand that sometimes your body and mind do weird things to avoid risks, to avoid the feeling of not being in control. Stop filtering yourself with excuses like annoying, afraid,unable to love, let yourself go. There is nothing wrong with this man I am falling for I am just trying to make there be something wrong out of fear.Fall in love and be okay with someone loving you back. You do not have to be the only one putting in all the effort. In fact you shouldn't be. I have found a new found love, a forever kind of love and I am not going to let things I tell myself distract me from feeling that love. Do not give up anything out of fear. Fear is something you tell yourself  to try and protect your heart. There are some people you do not need to protect yourself from and luckily for me this man is one of them.

Monday, August 18, 2014

The Untold Story of Brickley


I thought I loved the way he looked at me.

 I was wrong. It was all wrong. The thing was I loved much more than that. I love the way his teeth filled his smile and his words sounded like they blended together when he talked. This isn’t a love story I promise. This is a story of him and me, of the mistake that ended it all. My name is Brickley. Yes. Exactly like a brick you find creating a wall. There’s no explanation or some magical story of why my parents chose Brickley as my name. It’s just how it is. I am not good at explaining myself in a way that makes me seem interesting or exotic because quite frankly I am not.  I am 5’3”, I have long blonde curly hair that isn’t tamable, long scrawny arms that look something like dog bones, and feet that don’t quite fit my body yet.  I am 17, yes I am still young, and yes I am still trying to make my body match my insides. Let’s get to the point of this story. I bet you have questions, like who is “he”? What mistake? Well if you would hold on a second I would be able to tell you. His name is Jake, Jake Callory. Unlike me, I can explain him in a very interesting, exotic way. Jake is 5”6 he has dark brown hair that always looks combed, even when he just woke up. He has a smile that could melt the devils heart. He’s the kind of muscular guy who could squish a frail thing like me with one arm. Jake is majestic. He has a sense of power that shows without him even having to speak. Jake is also 17 years old but he has well filled his body by now and it matches his insides perfectly.  I am not comfortable with saying how much I fell for Jake at first sight. I said before this isn’t a love story. If you are looking for a love story maybe you should stop reading now but I really hope you don’t. The thing is this can’t be a love story. It can’t be a love story because Jake Callory is my murder. That’s right he killed me when no one was watching, it wasn’t a mistake like I said earlier, wasn’t a freak accident. Jake Callory, the supposedly love of my life shot me and left me to die. If you want me to explain what a shot wound feels like I will say this, stinging agonizing pain that doesn’t end quickly. The worst part of my murder was looking into the eyes of my killer, the eyes of someone I loved, someone I trusted. Jake Callory.  I remember the first night I met Jake at a party filled with high school students in minimum amounts of clothing and red solo cups. I know I know I am in high school I shouldn’t be drinking! We all know that everyone drinks, especially in high school. He was leaning against a wall, he looked like he was holding up the wall instead of the wall holding him up, and he was comfortable, relaxed and laughing. I was staring at him from across the room, telling my best friend how hot I thought he looked standing there, holding up the wall. I regret that conversation. I regret telling Anne how hot Jake Callory looked because she then told me to go talk to him and I did and I shouldn’t have. We talked all night, me and Jake Callory. He held my hand, kissed my cheek, walked me to Anne’s car for a ride home. Jake did the things that a nice boy would do. Jake did the things that I liked, that I wanted out of a boy.  We spent every second from that day on together. Jake walked me to my classes, gave me a ride home from school, and carried my books. I fell for him, he gained my trust and then he killed me.  It was our one year anniversary when I started noticing Jake acting different. He no longer carried my books and he yelled. He yelled at me when we were alone, when no one was watching. Jake would claim that I was cheating on him with people from our school that I hardly talked to, he would call me names. No one noticed. No one saw how Jake could be when we were alone. He was always so nice when we were surrounded by friends or family. That was what I loved about Jake, the nice moments. The moments that I remembered why I had fell for him. Those nice moments with Jake is what made the horrible moments even more confusing. I didn’t understand why he would snap, why he would yell at me. It scared me and I was hardly ever one to get scared.  I felt trapped, manipulated into staying with him because things would seem fine and then they weren’t.  I, Brickely someone who couldn’t be told what to do, was now getting told constantly who I could see, who I couldn’t by a man I fell in love with. Did I being in love with him make it okay? Did it make Jake telling me I couldn’t see Anne anymore because she was “a bad influence” okay?  Jake Callory was a convincing monster. Jake Callory planned my murder and got away with it. He killed me because I wasn’t strong enough to fight. I wasn’t strong enough to say no, to escape, to tell my family. It was a Friday night I and Jake were hanging out at my house, my parents were out of town and we were watching a movie.  Everything seemed fine, we were laughing and cuddling. I was playing with his soft brown hair, on the edge of falling asleep and being awake. He then told me to make out with him. I and Jake hardly ever made out because I didn’t want things to end up going further than that; I know what making out usually leads to. I told him no.  Jake of course got angry, throwing a fit, calling me names and telling me that I had to or else I didn’t love him. He told me that he would tell the whole school that I cheated on him. I still told him that I didn’t want to, he said if I didn’t he would kill me. Jake knew what he could force me to do after making out and so he was angry that I wouldn’t agree. He grabbed my face with one strong forceful hand, trying to force me to kiss him. I started to panic, you know the type of panic when you’re in water and you feel like you are drowning. I started pushing on his arm trying to make him let go. I was begging Jake to let go of my face. He wouldn’t and he just kept repeating that he would kill me over and over again. I was terrified of the psychotic look in Jake's eyes. They were no longer blue and welcoming; they were dark and filled with rage. He was no longer my Jake Callory, he was someone else. Jake was someone I no longer recognized, a predator.  I finally gave in, afraid of what would happen if I didn’t. I and Jake Callory made out. He tasted like cigarettes and had too much saliva floating around in his mouth.  That was the moment I fell out of love with Jake. I was forced to show affection towards him, affection that I didn’t want to give. He started climbing on top of me, sitting on me with his muscular, blue jeaned covered legs while his tongue still ventured inside of my now saliva filled mouth.  I had had enough. I started fighting back with my long, scrawny dog bone like arms. I was kicking and screaming fighting to break free but Jake Callory was stronger, bigger and faster than I was. Using all his body weight he held me down. I couldn’t escape I was stuck under his cigarette breathe and his blue jeaned covered legs. Jake Callory raped me, pulling me lime green colored shorts around my pale ankles. He then proceeded to ask me if I liked it while I was screaming and crying. I cried for help. I cried for my feeling of stupidity. I cried for not being able to escape the man I thought I loved.  After Jake climbed off of me pulling the jeans that were now around his ankles up over his muscular legs, I decided to try to run, run for the door, for the phone, run for my life. I barefoot, underwear wearing Brickley decided I wasn’t done fighting and I leaped, ran, tripped and stumbled as far as I could towards anything, the counter, the phone, the locked back door, until I felt a tiny metal bullet enter the middle of my scrawny back, this tiny bullet felt like a million tiny bullets all at once penetrating into my pale white skin. I turned around to see Jake Callory holding a black metal hand gun, smiling that smile that was teeth filled and gorgeous. I collapsed on the ground. That wicked trusting smile of Jake Callory’s being the last thing I would ever see again.  I felt blood, tons of blood. I was dizzy and kept picturing the neighbors, my mom, Anne, anyone walking in to save me, pick me up off the cold aluminum floor at any moment. No one did. Had no one heard the gun shot, my blood curling scream?  Was Antarctica to far for my parents to have heard that? Jake stood over me, watching my dark red blood cover the aluminum covered kitchen floor. I Brickely, died that night on the kitchen floor in a puddle of my own blood. The only person knowing what had happened being Jake Callory. I watched my funeral from above; it was as if I was in a dream I watched my parents cry, watched Anne give my eulogy, talking about old times I forgot we had. I was shouting to them the name of my killer “It was Jake!! Jake Callory! He did it! JAKKEEE!!”  Yet Jake was there, at my funeral, in the back row, in a back suit and tie, Crying. Why was he there? Didn’t he know he had killed me? Had he forgotten? Didn’t everyone know?! Jake was such a good pretender. I wasn’t the only one who fell for his acting and I was mad. Mad that he was at my funeral. Mad that the reports I stole out of my cases police file said that it was a burglary and that Jake had left my house hours before. I will never get justice.  They will always be searching for the wrong man. My name is Brickely and I was murdered by a man I thought I loved, a man I trusted.  Now you know my story, if you kept reading that is. This was not a love story. This was a story about a boy, about a death, about the ending of my life. This is a story I hope you tell. A story I hope keeps you from meeting the same fate as me. A story that I hope makes every woman stronger, ever person strong enough to fight predators.  Do not wait until it is too late. Recognize the sign of abuse and escape do not make excuses or stay out of “love”. Fight. Fight. Fight. 

 *This is in no way shape or form based off of a true story. No events in this story actually happened. This is a story on domestic violence that I myself entirely made up. If you or anyone you know is suffering from any form of sexual abuse, domestic violence, or put-downs please report it to someone you trust, a family member, friend, teacher, or authority.

Red Flags

Red flags feel like home. I grab your red flags and wrap them around my shoulders as if they will be the only thing in the relationship to...