One Thing

Right before dessert my aunt asked my father if the ice cubes were made with purified water,
“I only use ice cubes that are made with purified water,” She declared, “Honestly, once you try it you’ll never go back.”
50 million girls do not have access to secondary education. Little baby refugees are denied safe shelter. There is one Rabb’s Fringed Limbed Tree Frog left in the entire world. 135 Florida Grasshopper Sparrows left. My aunt is worried about her ice cubes.
My cousins hugs me as if I was a stranger – it was the sort of hug where your body barely touches and the squeeze is so light you wonder if it even happened.
I am not of this world. I cry over tiny little birds lying lifeless in the fresh rained on grass. I cry over the mantra ray being stabbed in the head. My soul hurts for creatures I cannot save. My soul hurts for you.
The people we love say a lot about ourselves. I’m looking for beautiful souls who give me hope. The ones who want to change the world and make their impression positive and lasting. I do not care about the clothes you wear or the way you style your hair. I do not care about the money you do or do not make. I care about the way you treat people who can do nothing for you. I care about whether or not you recycle that bottle. I care about whether or not you’re helping people up and not down.
The opposite of love isn’t hate, it’s indifferent. I’m terrified of myself. I do not hate you, I am indifferent to you. Your existence is not a good one but our paths shall never cross so what do I care?
I am sick and tired of paying the consequences of other people’s actions. Directly I pick up your pieces. Indirectly, I help tape up the people you’ve destroyed. I am not your keeper.
When are we all going to wake up and stop pretending? I can’t live in your fantasy land anymore. You’ve fallen down the rabbit hole and I’m climbing out of it.
Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock, im late.
Bye Alice.

Take a real hard look at yourself – do you like what you see?

 

 

 

 

Power.

This is my third attempt and I’m just going to write. or try. This is what I’m feeling:

The major theme of Girls Meet World on the Disney channel is, “People change people.” Which seems obvious, but the idea often falls through the cracks.

Everything you do in life affects someone else. The lies you tell lead to mistrust. The harsh words lead to scars. The silence you enact leads to panic. The encouragement you give leads to strength. The positive enforcement leads to strength.

My father often reminds me that my word is all I have. If I tarnish it with lies, anger, and hate then it will infect my soul. Never mind the fact that I would lose the trust of my loved ones, I would lose the trust within myself. If I’m not honest with my loved ones, how can I be honest with myself?

Here’s a major secret to your life: you’re in control. You control the words that come out your mouth. You control the treatment you receive. You control the influence you’ll have. So will it be positive of negative?

When I think of how far I’ve come and the strides I’m making, I refuse to willingly subject myself to another negative human being – it’ll only hold me back. Though bravery and courage are sometimes lacking on my part, I know that ‘no’ is the strongest word I possess.

I don’t want to be held back. I want the encouragement to live the life I want.

With everything that is going on with the world, I know I need to do more. I need to help others and make a positive impact in the world. I have food in my belly, clothes on my body, and a roof over my head. I have the world. I need to stop complaining and I refuse to poison it with people who wouldn’t think twice about hurting me. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.

I’m in control of my own life. Me. I say what’s appropriate and what isn’t. I determine who stays and who goes. I walk away when there’s nothing left. I stay when a chair has been presented. I am not at mercy of anyone but me. I am strong and empowered and I’m going to do whatever I can to try to make my corner of the world a littler brighter. I think of what my father said to me a few weeks ago, “You’re either the hero in your story or the victim. Choose wisely.”

I’m trying, I am. xx

Wholeheartedness

I just finished reading Dr. Brené Brown‘s The Gifts of Imperfection which focuses on living wholeheartedly. The idea is simple: live authentically. It’s a simple idea but one that’s hard to execute. In a world that is concerned with ‘being cool’ and seeming disinterested we often betray who we really are. When we betray who we are we  often become angry,  resentful, and trapped. When this happens we often shame the people closest to us in an attempt to strip them of their authenticity and freedom. Stand tall. You are enough. Blowing out someone else’s candle does not make yours shine any brighter.

I know what this feels like. I get excited over garden spiders, my English bulldogs, and donuts. I have met people who celebrate who I am (find those people, find them and never let them go) and people who have scoff and told me to calm down, it’s not that interesting (find them and let them go, let them go NOW). Oh but it is. It so totally is. You are worthy of love, compassion, and the joy of being celebrated. I won’t omit pieces of who I am to make you comfortable. What matters is that I’m true to myself. It’s an ever going journey.

Living wholeheartedly means being authentic. It means have uneasy conversations, it means telling someone you’re hurt or that you’re so blissfully happy. It’s a human connection. Oh hey, you feel that way? Me too. It means doing what’s right for your well-being. It means taking time to sort out your thoughts.  There are no guarantees in life and yet we attached them to everything as a way to numb the fear of uncertainty. If I’m true to myself then how can I fail in the end? If I treat myself with the love and respect I deserve, then how can I regret it? I can only control myself. I cannot control you, him, or her. Oh boy do I like control.

Declaring I’m enough is one thing but believing it will take time and effort. Controlling my anxiety and knowing that my self worth comes from so much more then what I do or how much I weigh. I don’t want to be afraid, I want to live my life wholeheartedly and I want to encourage the ones I love to embrace vulnerability and know their self-worth. Letting go allows me to grow and I can’t wait to explore the world. Negative behavior feeds negative behavior – my hope is that I’ll attract a more positive outlook on life if I ditch that ideology.

It’s exciting, yeah? xx

Lessons

I realized that no matter how hard you suppress something it does not go away. When my best friend came to me looking for advice, I thought it was all about him. Somewhere, in between the lines of words, it came back to me. Practice what you preach – as they say.

And it wasn’t that hard. Perhaps because I was so far removed from the repressed memories or maybe it was the simple realization that my life is completely and utterly mine. I’m free to do whatever I want with my life and I’m free to share it with whomever I want. Sorry, not sorry, as the cool kids say.

So I spent a crazy amount of time reflecting. What defines me? What has shaped me? How do I make peace with certain events in my life? I read article after article, love vs attachment, healthy relationship vs unstable one, etc.

Then I decided to view life as if everyone I meet has something to teach me. That’s where life taught me a lot of lessons. Cheesy, yeah? I’ve encounter people with the biggest heart but not a penny to their name. I’ve met people with have multiple pennies to their name but not a lick of heart. I’ve met people who have settled. I’ve met people who haven’t. I’ve learned so much just by other peoples decisions and lack of them.

I feel as though I’m suppose to write about how my own adventures and how they have shaped me but life lessons are hidden everywhere. I’m feeling more confident in who I want to share my life with whether it’s romantically or platonic. Don’t settle. Don’t confuse love for attachment. The only person you have to answer to is yourself. If the people in your life don’t share these views then let them be, you know? They’ll find their own way. Make peace with the relationships you’ve lost. If someone hurts you, say something. Speak up. Don’t let anyone quiet your voice.

Keep going. Move forward. Surround yourself with people who bring you up. As my Aba says, “Be good. Do good.”

If your voice is quiet, I hope you find it. I hope you listen. I hope you find your bravery. This is it. This is your life.

Five

I finally finished the Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman. The idea is simple: there are five love languages and each one of us has a primary one. The book was filled with stories of couples, friends, and coworkers who were at odds with each other until they discovered their primary love language and spoke it.

I like this idea and I think it is interesting. Of course the conflicts in the book weren’t major – a wife feeling unappreciated by her husband even though he  showed his love by fixing the light blub, repainting the bathroom, etc.  His wife’s love language wasn’t acts of service, it was physical touch. Even though he each light blub he changed communicated he loved her, she felt ignored and rejected.

The book preaches that we each need to understand our loved ones love languages and adjust accordingly. Once the husband understood his wife received love by physical touches, he began to incorporate them more and everything was hunky dory.  Her love tank was full, as the author states.

My primary love language is quality time and my secondary is acts of service. It doesn’t surprise me that this is my love language and it’s becoming more apparent to me everyday. For me, it’s receiving someones undivided attention, responding to my feelings, or just being there.

And it also dawned on me, since I attended school in a different state and have my friends scattered all around the world, that a phone call or responding to my texts also translates to quality time (long distance joy!). I guess my brain translates it to, “I’m thinking of you” –  isn’t that kind of strange? Is texting even a real form of a communication?

So it seems strange that I would inform my loved ones that my love language is quality time. “Hey guys – it would be great if you just spent time with me and called me!” and it seems like a easy and simple request but I have a few reservations.

How much are people willing to speak your love language and how much should we expect from them? Maybe everything in life unfolds naturally? If they aren’t willing to compromise then wouldn’t we feel unloved and pull away?

I’m not entirely sure why I’m struggling with this idea. Another love language, words of affirmation, is one that I rarely speak. I do enjoy hearing words of love and encouragement, but not as the result of conflict. They may hold a large amount of truth but it doesn’t seem to resonate in my bones.

It’s a universal desire – to love and be loved. I think the idea of love languages will help me gain a better understanding of my loved ones. There are multiple people that I love in my life and they all deserved and desire to be loved by me.

Tumblr showed me this quote: “Never ignore a person who loves you, cares for you, or misses you. Because one day, you might wake up from your sleep and realize that you lost the moon while counting the stars.”

I find this quote beautiful though slightly unrelated to my post. Maybe I’m trying to figure out how to give and accept love to everyone in my life while loving myself? Where’s my manual on life? Can I have it now?

Mimosa piduca

I came across the quote this morning and it hit me in a million different ways. This has been my own year of growth – a very slow one – but one nonetheless. I’ve been fishing through all the skeletons in my closet and finally dealing with all the ugly bits and pieces I pretended didn’t exist. .

The one thing that stands out the most about this quote is trust. I do not trust freely and when I give away pieces of my trust it leaves me feeling uncomfortable and vulnerable. It’s like I’m standing at the pools edge, giving just enough, but not all of it. Never diving in.

Like the Mimosa piduca, I’ve discovered that once I feel threatened or my trust misplaced, I quickly close within my self and am slow to open again. Maybe this is what the world is giving me practice in? It’s like I’m so sensitive that I carry the pain around and let it poison my veins. That it takes me longer for me to forgive someone and even longer to forgive myself.

“Grief does not change you, it reveals you.” -John Green

So I’m here, trying to sort out my own misguided thoughts and am trying to make sense of my own grief. I’m not sure what to make of any of it. This is just a jumbled mess. What does it reveal about me?

I read in the Five Love Languages when someone you love or care for isn’t speaking your love language you tend to pull away from them. Don’t get me wrong, I know I am loved, I am. But I suppose I just feel like an afterthought.

I guess since I don’t know the full answer to as why I feel so unlike me (or maybe I do and I just don’t want to admit it) I’ll keep pushing through the haze and sludge with hopes I’ll figure it out. Which I’m trying to.

But the past version of me? She would have had her bags packed and she would have been gone in hopes of protecting her heart and soul.

But I’m still here.

“You can’t protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness”

What the hell.

Family

I’m watching the Christmas episode of Modern Family and it got me thinking about my own and how lucky I am. My father grew much differently than me – with an alcoholic father that left his family behind. When I’m sitting around the dinner table laughing with my parents or fighting with them – I’m thankful that they decided to stick around and love me unconditionally.

My father has set the standard of how I should be treated and loved. He’s there when I have a question. He answers the phone on the second ring at 3am and drives 45 minutes to help me with only a little grumble. When I accidentally call him at 4am, he immediately calls back asking if I’m okay. When we put my bulldog down and I cried for days, my father came home with a bulldog t-shirt and bulldog themed flip flops.When I’m having a bad day he sends me pictures of my bulldogs (after he said he was done with dogs)! When I excitedly tell him I have news he says, “If it pertains to LA or Disneyland then I don’t want to hear it” but he listens anyway as I excitedly tell him about some useless fact.

My mother accepts everyone unconditionally. If you’re kind and respectful then you’re a ok in her book. She’s the sassiest woman I know. Sitting at the table she looks up and goes, “They’re making a beanie baby of Cecil and we’re buying it I hope you know” and “I don’t  understand why would anyone would run when you could just walk somewhere.” She’s my best friend and partner in crime. I couldn’t imagine anyone else by my side.

I’m luckily enough to have a second family. They don’t live anywhere near me so seeing them fills with pure love and joy. Being part of that family is one of the biggest blessings. I don’t know how I got so lucky but I can’t wait to share all this with someone I love (provided my father likes him!) We’re all a package deal, much like Modern Family is. If you cannot accept my wonderful, weird, and crazy family, then you can’t fully accept me. I would never sacrifice any of my relationships with them for anyone else.

Quality time is my love language and seeing them fills my love tank, it makes me feel loved that they chose me I like do them. It’s been empty lately and even writing this has filled it a tiny bit so who knew? xx

Honesty.

It’s unbelievably hot today with a high of 91 degrees and it’s unbearably windy and my head is pounding but I just read this quote:
“When I finally let down my walls and was honest with myself about what I wanted, I realized it wasn’t up to anyone else to give me permission to go get it. I needed to give that permission to myself.”
I don’t know about you but whenever I’m faced with conflict that I do not know the solution to I search for it. I read blogs, novels, and listen to TED talks in hopes that I will find my answer from somebody else. As you could predict, I failed every time.
So without any sense of direction, I usually convinced myself that if I couldn’t find the answer then there obviously wasn’t one. Then I was back to square one.
Why? Because I never gave myself permission to get down ‘n dirty and explore my emotions.
When you invest your heart and soul into something – whether it is a relationship or a job -walking away never seems like an option. How could it? I’ve put a lot of effort into something and I cannot walk away and watch it turn into dust. So I wouldn’t allow myself to think of any other possibility except – and in the words of Tim Gunn, “to make it work.” The fear of leaving outweighed the possibilities of the unknown.
Until one day I just did it. I myself permission and it was terrifying. I stopped searching through endless blog posts and dug deep into what I wanted. I was liberated. I was unbelievably liberated and the only thing that grew among the weeds was the determination to never live life that away again.
In life we will put a lot of time and effort into things that will break or just won’t work. That’s okay. It’s all okay. This means you’re one step closer to finding what you want.
Walk away if love is no longer be served. Look beyond the pretty wrapping – lies are still lies even when they’re prettily told. Look at the big picture. Be smart though – don’t quit your job until you have a new one.
Be honest with yourself. You’re all you got and you’re so worth it.
xx

Galaxies

When the world is asleep and the muggy air clings to my skin I take a second to stare up the stars. I feel so tiny under them and the names of everyone I long for dances on my lips and suddenly I do not feel so alone. When I finally break my trance, I pretend to leave her behind but like the air, she has become my second skin.

I view the less desirable parts of me as a separate being. As if all the traits and experiences I deem unworthy are ones that I can simply brush under the rug and pretend they do not exist. Then of course, when I experience triggers – anything that brings an undesirable to life – I find myself tripping on the rug and unearthing everything that hides underneath it.

For the longest time I viewed these things – anxiety, depression, verbally abuse relationships, sensitivity, etc – as something that was outside of me. I believed that I could declare that these things are not who I am, just miniscule parts of me. Then I would slip into an anxiety control panic or crack a self deprecating joke and it became clear that they controlled a bigger part of my life than I originally thought.

As I sit here I feel as though I am somewhat of a fraud. How can I preach that everyone is beautiful and that I’m a strong human being when I point out my own flaws so you can’t/won’t think I’m selfish? It seems impossible to explain that I mean what I say but I really don’t. I now know my worth – it was defined for me once – but do I  truly?

I shy away from relationships because my scars are still visible. I still see them in my own reflection and in the eyes of the mousy girl who refuses to make eye contact with me as she orders her grande iced coffee with 2%. I want to help others who are going through similar experiences. Though I’m not sure I’m qualified because I’m scared shitless.

Maybe they’re a big part and maybe they’re a tiny part but I can’t keep pretending they don’t exist.

Maybe this revelation is a sign that I’m finally heading to self acceptance and recovery. I need to let go of this idea that I’m too much for someone to handle. I am worth it. This is who I am: the girl who loves coconut donuts, the one with the best friend so far away, the one who cried for an entire day at the loss of a baby bird, the one who laughs at news reel bloopers, the one who worries about everything, the one who can’t convince herself to get out of bed, the one who spots a bulldog from blocks away. This is who I am. This is me.

This things happened to me but they do not  make me. Maybe the scars will never truly fade but I can’t let my fear of being too much for someone to hold me back. What’s the point of life if I’m consenting muting my emotions?

Not much, I’m assuming.

Hey. you’re beautiful.The scars make you who you are. You are worthy. If someone can’t handle you then walk away and keep looking. xx

Pick Me

My original intention was to write about what it feels like when the people you love don’t pick you. And I’m not talking about the dramatic, life or death ultimatum of, “it’s me or nothing.” I’m talking about the everyday stuff – I want to see you, hang out, call you, live with you, and invest in you kind of choosing. And when you find that you’ve fallen into the number two spot of someone you consider your number one, I get it. It fucking sucks.
It really does. But then I took a step back and realized that even if no one picks me, I pick me. You know? But here’s the thing I’ve also realized – when the sadness invades my bones like heavy lead – It’s crucial that I step outside of my own head. I can’t be angry with the ones I love for not responding in the way that I want them to. If you’re anything like me, I’m always conflicted. Angry that no one has just asked how I am but also quiet because I never want to burden someone else with my own personal wars.
Depression and anxiety is a lethal cocktail. I’m sad to the point in which I want to lay in bed all day but extremely anxious that I will lose my friends if I do. So I hang out in purgatory for a while and wonder if anyone will make sense of all that I am.
But I need to make sense of all that I am and remember that the most important person in my life is me. I can’t fault people for being human. I have to tell myself to breathe, to cry when I need to, and maybe ask for help once in a while. I am not a burden; I am a human being with a beating heart and new cells. It’ll be okay. I am not the same person I was yesterday. I am growing.
And if you ask for help and you’re met with resistance, I urge you to move on. Just brush off the past and start new. There are understanding people in the universe.
“I have anxiety,” I said, “And some days I don’t get out of bed. The sadness lives in my bones.”
“Can I lay with you then?” He said.
And I froze.