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. 

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

A Farewell Letter Of Sorts...

And now this is goodbye. 

With every word I type, I can't help but think how simply cliche this is. We've known each other for almost a year now, and yet, it's already time to say goodbye. We must move our separate ways. You will mature and so will I. We will reminisce about the good times we shared. But for now, we must prepare our farewells. 

We had a good run. You and I. 

Sorority dinners and dances. Concerts every other week. Movies on the lawn. Road trips to Nashville. Debates about music and film. Late night fireside chats. Time spent in the city. Social media escapades. And so much more. 

We spent everyday together. You walked me to class, you held my hand as I applied for my last semester of college. We bonded over our love for music. You helped me land those internships. You even helped keep me sane during those days where it felt like EVERYONE was engaged. (This is still a problem for me). 

You get me. Really, you do. When I needed that Thought Catalog article, you had me covered. When I was waiting for that cute boy to talk to me, you were there. With a little push in the right direction and a splendid shade of lip stain, you always had my back. 

From party dresses, to leather coats, to pink bandanas: you were there. With that wink in my direction -- letting me know that things were about to get better. With a lyric that helped me get through the day. Helping me clean the dust off my vinyl collection.  Maintaining patience when I insist upon being completely sarcastic. I applaud you and your perseverance to be with me through the good and the bad. 

Thank you. Without your support and guidance along the way, I wouldn't be here writing this letter to you. 

You know who you are. You were there for me wherever I needed you. You didn't ditch me on those Friday nights. And you were pleased to watch (500) Days of Summer with me for the 600th time. Because, I mean, seriously. It's the best soundtrack. 

Better yet, you were there for so many of my friends and family. Yes, lives were celebrated. And love was lost. But that's life. You were there, and that's all that matters. 

I know you and I made a great team. But I must move on. I've got another one of you to move on to. Hopefully they'll get me as much as you did. 

Here's to you, my friend. It's been one heck of a year, 2013. As Fall Out Boy would say, Thnks Fr Th Mmrs. 

It's been great getting to know you 2013, growing another year older with you. Attempting to drive. Yea, hopefully 2014 will treat me even better. 

Cheers to an even more rad year, 2014. Catch you on the flip side, 2013. 

Live it, love it, caress it.

-Coco