1.6.16

I’m unmotivated and ambitious as hell, all at once, and I’m still trying to figure out how that can be. 

You hear those cliches about moments being the time of your life. How you’ve had your golden years, and everything from here on out is life and it sucks and blah blah blah. I didn’t believe it. I still don’t. But I’m beginning to kind of understand what these people were referring to. 

I find myself each and everyday waking up with the thirst to do something more, but the lack of motivation, or maybe it’s a lack of knowledge on where to start. I know that big things are expected from me. It started at a young age, people creating these expectations for me. I too expect greatness from myself. But the problem lies within the idea of what I should do and how I should do it. 

Too often I hear from my peers about their lack of happiness or satisfaction with their lives. I don’t want to be that person. I don’t want to join the club. I have too much to offer.  I enjoy my unconventional life, here on the island of misfit toys. 

I know I’ve ranted about this in a previous post, and IRL, but social media is a blessing and a curse. It’s a great platform to stay connected with friends thousands of miles away, or checking in on your favorite celeb, but sometimes it’s the worst at crushing your self-esteem. 

I’ve never been one to compare myself to others, but damn, does social media posts from friends sometime make you feel like you’re doing absolutely nothing with your life? I get it, social media makes everyone’s life look a little more glamorous. Filters and apps help with that. I’m guilty, we all are. 

I just don’t get how I got here. I was always so involved. Charismatic. Acting, singing, volunteering, dancing, academics, social life, philanthropic, leader, community involvement, campus involvement, etc. I made the grades, I had the connections, the ambition, the unique qualities. I thought I was destined for something other than a conglomeration of freelance work, and an abundance of hours watching Netflix under my belt. I’m not complaining. That’d be too millennial of me. Barf. I’m just a little disappointed in myself sometimes. I should have tried harder, not been so picky, taken more chances. The same could be said about my dating life. But in all seriousness, what happened? Am I the only one who feels this way? Let me answer that for you, I know I’m not. 

We’re all at different stages in our lives. And that’s okay. I embraced it a loooong time ago, but sometimes I just feel so shitty about how my life is shaping up. Don’t get me wrong, I have a great family who loves me, I have cool friends who are supportive and chill. I have jobs here and there and get to work with cool people, and in a rad city. I really cannot complain. But sometimes I explore what I think would be my dream job, and I feel so complacent. Should I give all this up? Should I try to make it big? Should I try to work at some big record label? Move to NYC or LA? I think about it sometimes. Don’t we all?

There comes a point when you have to look at what you have and what you want and settle the difference. Picture yourself in that dream job or that foreign city or with that beautiful stranger. Is it really you? Do you really want it? Or are you just giving into the pressure of society and the expectations placed on you from your peers? Is it just the idea that you enjoy, not the reality?

Honestly, I saw this quote a few months back “you were not born to pay bills and die,” and it really stuck with me. We’re here, on this planet, to live and love and that’s it. Live int he moments with the people you care about, love yourself, and all of the rest will fall into place… when that is, I don’t know, but I’ll let you know when I find out. 

Tater tots & unsettling thoughts.

It happened again. That unsettling feeling. There I was, minding my own business. Eating some tater tots. Listening to people groan about monotonous details. And it hit me. It does this. 

I was daydreaming of leaving. Or getting up from the table, leaving them behind and finding a new adventure. In this city. Somewhere new. Moving. Packing up. Saying "see ya later Cincy, I'm going on vacation." 

Then in that same moment, my mind switched. What am I doing here? Why do I hang out in these settings? Are we actually having fun? Am I living? I've been out of college for over a year now and have no "big girl job". Should I leave? Should I just live with my parents forever? That's what people used to do... Live with their families, not separating. Do I actually need to live on my own right now? I think people do that to mature and figure out who they are. What do you do when you're 23 and know who you are? But don't know what the next move is? 

I get so frustrated with myself. I know my mother does too. I get to overwhelmed and underwhelmed all at the same time. I know that I have the potential to do whatever the hell I want. I've had some experience, I've dabbled, but what's my next career move? What am I going to do? I don't care about making a ton of money. Ideally, I don't want some 9-5 desk job either. I'm too creative. Too restless. Too much of an idealist. Yes, that's what I am. An idealist. I have these thoughts and dreams and aspirations. But I have little motivation. I have little to work for or towards. I sound like such a millennial. Dang it. Who am I kidding? We're all trying to "live". But what is living? Is it just the simple act of breathing? Or is there some checklist that we're suppose to be completing? I admit that sometimes I hear about others' lives my age and think about what I'm doing. Or what I'm not doing. But I also know that I am my own person, and will not compare myself to others. 

This world is strange. So many contradictions and prearrangements. So many unspoken rules and ideals. 

I don't know what to do. I'm back at square one. Just like I was before college, trying to pick my major. (My dear friend Matt & I were just talking about this.) Well, now I have two degrees and not a lot to show for it. I don't discount my education. I don't discount my experiences. I've interned places and networked. But here I am. Working part-time. Freelancing here and there. And that's okay, I think? 

Am I a writer? A photographer? A publicist? A stylist? A social media strategist? A promoter? A saleswoman? A singer? 

I need guidance again. Or a sign. Or some sort of proper motivation. I need to get my mojo back. Everyone knows it. 

Maybe I need a change of scenery. But each time I leave Cincinnati, I come back loving her even more. It's a shame, really, how much I love her. 

Just as I wrote that, I pictured myself being a novelist. I pictured myself as Fitzgerald. Maybe that's what I should do. Write. 

For now, I sleep. 

Being Original Is Breathtaking.

I have this unsettling feeling. This sinking, kind of sick-at-my stomach feeling. It comes in waves, this feeling. 

I know that I am like no one else. My name, my hair, my laugh, my humor, my taste, it's all me. It's all unique. And I love that. But it's also quite lonesome and sometimes overwhelming.

I fear things. I fear that people aren't like me. That I am alone. And this becomes more evident with my track record of being 23 and never having been on a date, held hands, kissed, had a boyfriend, or any sort of intimacy with a man. 

I've came to the conclusion that I'm just so different. It's such a strange feeling. Knowing that my mind and my thought pattern is not like that of anyone I know. There are a select few who grasp my wit and sequence of thoughts, but there are those who look at me like I'm some sort of alien. And in a twisted way, I love that. I strive for that. I yearn for the chance to be different. To turn a head. Ya know?

Being original is breathtaking. It's refreshing. Being yourself.

There is a certain refreshing-ness about someone who is completely genuine. They are who they are, and have no reservations about what they like and what they don't. Trends aren't how they stay current. Popular culture plays little effect.

I came to the conclusion a long while ago that I honestly didn't care what others thought of me. Within reason. I am who I am. Labels do not define me. Society does not get the opportunity to make fun of me or tie me down. I have my own thoughts and feelings. My own emotions. My own likes and dislikes. 

As I become older, I can feel it more and more. This self love that I have. It envelopes me all the time. I am awesome. And I'm not conceited. I'm not cocky. Quite the opposite. I actually blush at any slight compliment or nice comment. I just laugh and smile. I'm terrible with it. Trust me. Try it. But with time, I have learned to love every ounce of myself. Inside and out. 

I am different, I am strange. I am unique, I am human. I am woman, hear me roar. Cliches and all. 

From my thick waist, to my long hair. My pouty bottom lip, my crooked teeth. My big feet, my loud mouth. My wide array of interests, my record collection. It's all what makes me who I am. And I am so thankful for it. 

I catch myself having two very different images of myself. One where I am some schmuck trying to get by in life, while looking and acting a complete fool. The other, a confident woman who knows who she is and what she wants. I chose to accept the latter. 

Life is difficult sometimes. Catching my reflection in a store window, seeing my larger frame. I've learned to embrace it. I've learned to understand each curve and wrinkle. I know that the mall is not my favorite place. I know that I'd rather pilfer through boxes of silk blouses at a yard sale, or flip through racks of high waisted skirts at the thrift stores. That's who I am. 

Love is difficult sometimes. I wind up in these vastly romantic scenarios when I'm by myself, or with a group of coupled off friends. It's awkward and lonely, but it's life. I've accepted it. I'm good at being single. I am able to go where I want and enjoy my life. My choices, my time, and I don't have to compromise. But sometimes I wish I had to compromise. Cooperate, rather. Having a romantic plus one would be nice. Being able to belt the lyrics to my favorite song at a show with a guy of my own would be rad. But hey, I do it on my own. And that's nice too. Being a realist and a hopeless romantic is quite the task. But I do it. And I own it. 

Work is difficult. So much pressure to be "successful," this subjective term. A world where degrees matter and money rules. And I'm just looking for happiness and enjoying the simple things in life. Whether that be listed on a career page, or right here in the comfort of my own home. Who knows. 

And that's what is so stellar. There doesn't need to be just black or white. (Like I said, cliches and all). I've learned that imperfections are abundant and common. Perfection is rare and kind of nonexistent. Quirks and jerks are all around us. Trust me. I choose to embrace this life. Love the skin that I'm in. Embark on each day as if it were a new journey, a time to celebrate and create. 

Who am I to judge another? I have always considered myself to be that of an open-minded person. To each their own. Sometimes there are more important things in life than to look to the world for validation. We're each given the opportunity to live and to love and to laugh. Do it. Press play, and embrace life for what it is. Revel in your one-of-a-kind-ness. For you are the only you in the entire planet. Dig that. I do. <3

How To Dress Confidently

I was once given an assignment to write on "How To Dress Yourself Thin." What really is "thin"? Is it a physical appearance, a state of mind, or some sort of measurement? Thin is subjective. Each person has their own opinion of what thin means. Don't dress to be thin, dress to be confident. 

I am no fashion expert, I wear what I like -- granted, I'm aware of the trends -- but I also am aware that a lot of trends may not fit my curves. Here are 10 tricks to keep in mind while trying to dress yourself confidently.

1. Wear what you like
   Don't worry about the latest trends, confidence is always in season. "Fashion fades, only style remains the same." -Coco Chanel
   
   
2. Don't compare yourself to othersThigh gaps and muffin tops: we're all human. One size does NOT fit all. Do not size up yourself to someone else, pun intended. Everyone has a flaw, everyone is beautiful in their own way.
   
   
3. Dress your body, not a mannequin's
   Humans aren't Barbie dolls, there are curves and imperfections involved, embrace them. Wear clothes that fit your body, your skin, your curves, your imperfections. Do not try to wear something because of a number. Don't let the size on the tag detour you from getting clothes that look great on you.
   
4. Know what colors and materials you like
   Not a fan of pink with your skin tone? Then don't wear it. Hues of colors help to make your facial features pop, or help draw attention to certain areas, be aware of that. Understand what materials fall well on your body, avoid materials that are too clingy and uncomfortable.
   
   
   
5. Collect staple items
   Signature pieces are a must. Denim and leather can go a long way. Every woman needs a great black dress for any occasion, but don't forget about a great pair of jeans. A good wardrobe contains an outfit suitable for a wedding, a funeral, a job interview, a casual day off, a night out-on-the-town ensemble, a great bathing suit, and a few other great pieces that will work for other various occasions . Incorporate signature items such as a great blazer with a fun top and a pair of staple jeans.
   
   
   
6. Take chances/express yourself
   Style is a form of expression, let your clothes express who you are and what you like. Don’t be afraid to take chances with your wardrobe. Remember that your clothes give off a first impression and help to convey who you are before you even speak.
   
    
   
7. Layers can be your best friend and your worst enemy
   Light layers are always favorable. But don't let your natural shape get too lost under copious amounts of fabric. Know your layering limits. It takes practice.
   
   
   
8. Accessorize accordingly
   Accessories are meant to compliment an outfit, do not let them distract from your beauty and your outfit. Less is often times more. There's a great motto about removing one accessory before leaving the house, just to make sure there's not too much going on with the look.
   
   
9. Highlight your assets
   What's your favorite feature about yourself? Highlight that. Understand that hemlines help to accentuate areas of the body. A great high-waisted garment can help draw attention to the waist, as do cinched waistlines and high-belted items. A great pencil skirt that hits you right above or below the knees will help to accentuate the thinnest part of your legs. If you're wanting to accentuate your breasts, choose a scoop-neck or v-neck cut, the eye will be drawn to your breasts, also helping to draw the eye to your waistline, giving the illusion of an hourglass figure.
   
   
10. Smile
    Reality television and fashion magazines tell us to be thin. But haven't you heard? You're a babe no matter what shape or size. When you feel good, you'll look even better and exude a charisma that people will swoon over. Try it! Don't squeeze into clothes that don't fit. It's tiresome and uncomfortable. Save the pain for the great shoes you'll be rocking.
    
    

It took me years to figure all of this out. I've always had my own unique style, pulling pieces from my grandma's closet and pairing them with my own modern pieces to create an interesting combination. (Yes, I had an Avril phase, you know, the whole men's tie phase? Yep, I did that. Man, middle school).  I remember the days of trying to look as cute as my "thin" friends, in their Soffe shorts.  I used to peruse the mall for hip clothes that would fit my body. Then, alas, I realized that my tall, curvy frame wasn't easy to shop for off the mannequins. That's when I stopped obsessing over trends.

Pay attention to what you like and what looks good on you, then the rest will fall into place! Style is what you make it. Embrace it. 

Unpublished: Dreamland

In the stillness of it all, I wonder. 

In the blackness of it all, I ponder. 

Enveloped in the quiet. 

Lights of cars creeping in. 

I lay here. 

Paralyzed. 

Restless.

Weary.

Relaxed. 

Eyes become heavy. Lids close. The music continues to play. Lyrics dancing in my mind. To do lists being written. It's hard to turn it off. The mind continues to wonder, to ponder. 

When the shapes begin to shift behind our lids, we slip away. Even for a moment. To a place much more simple than this. Or be it much more intricate than this. It's different, and that's what matters. 

Filled with endless possibilities, familiar faces and shadows of the unknown, we dream. We believe. We feel. We see. We think. We know. 

Those moments are pure. They're our sub-conscience coming to life. Our hopes, our aspirations. Or emotions, our memories. Stored away, ready to come out and play. 

Revel in them. Enjoy them. Hold on to them. For these moments are fleeting. For these moments are scarce. 

Drift away. Steal away. Allow yourself the simplicity of sleeping. Fall into your sub-conscience. Sweet dreams.  

Unpublished: What We Were

I was your window. Your tiny window. The time spent between her. The adventure out into the real world. Your escape. Look through my glass.

I was your confidant. Your listening ear. Your fortune teller. Your ego boost. Your shoulder. Your journal. Write on my pages. 

I was your speakers. Crescendo-ing and decrescendo-ing. Your noise. Your muse. Your soothing sounds. Your accompaniment. Let me sing. 

Unpublished: Less Than A Month

It lasted less than a month, you and I. Whatever we were. In an attempt to rid myself of feelings for another, I went searching. But I wasn't searching for you. You were like the prize in the cereal box of my childhood memories. There, a surprise, something that I had been made aware of, but was hesitant to get my hopes up.

It happened in mere hours, this new relationship. Platonic or romantic, that was left to be discovered. We chatted for hours. Life, hobbies, music, etc. The time seemed to fly by. Daily exchanges of good night and good morning texts.

It happened once, us meeting. I remember that it wasn't weird. Two strangers talking for hours, exchanging inside jokes as if we'd been friends forever. You swirled your water as if it were wine. Had I made you nervous? Swapping stories of families and embarrassing moments, the time came to part ways.

It happened in a span of a few weeks. We began to fall into a routine of our own. Witty banter and sarcastic jabs. Gifs and emojis. It almost happened effortlessly. Like two people whom were comfortable in their ways.

It happened in an instant. The night you told me. Told me about her. My heart sank into my chest, but I wasn't quite sure why. We had no real ties to one another. You weren't mine. I wasn't yours. I even thought you liked me more than I you. I was convinced that I had no romantic feelings for you. But as I told you, "Feelings occur. Shit happens. It'll be fine." All at once I was immersed into a variety of feelings. Maybe it was the melancholy soundtrack that accompanied the moment that led me to such emotions, but they were there and they were relevant. And even now, I'm confused. I swore you liked me. I think I was beginning to like you. And while yes, just shy of a month is a very small amount of time, but you understood how much of a romantic I am. You were beginning to get my weird sense of humor, and I yours.

It's occurring now. As I type. This weird sense of sorrow. It shouldn't have caused this much pain. This much wallowing. But maybe that's just it. Maybe I'm not wallowing about you. Maybe I was searching for a reason to wallow. To feel self pity and shame, embarrassment rather. I needed a cleansing cry. A moment to get in-touch with my feelings and be vulnerable.

Thank you for that.
Thank you for sharing with me that little bit of time.
Thank you for allowing me to be vulnerable.
Thank you & farewell.