The Girl in the Porcelain Doll

college, friendship, God, illness, life, love

If I had a dollar for every time someone commended me on being “strong”, I’d be a very rich woman.

In our society, being strong means balancing everything and everyone without breaking a sweat.

It means sleep deprivation and a borderline serious addiction to coffee.

It means meeting deadlines, no matter the cost to your sanity; or relationships.

It means not falling apart when you feel the weight of the world on your shoulders.

Sometimes I feel like a girl trapped inside a porcelain doll. I can feel myself beginning to crack; trying to escape this emotional prison, but I patch myself up time and again, for the fear that if I shatter, who will be there to pick up the pieces?

If I fall apart, who will hold the others together?

If I’m not Superwoman, who’s going to save the day?

But I’m not Superwoman.

I’m just a woman.

Sometimes, I just can’t withstand the pressure.

Sometimes, those few little cracks happen in the right places, and I can’t tape them back together; I shatter.

Sometimes, I’m PMSing with a stomach bug, missing deadlines, can’t clean my apartment, don’t have energy for love or friendship, and go through a great loss.

The mind is a fragile, terrifying, beautiful place. It is the entirety of you; it is the seat of your soul.

My mind is frazzled. My mind is tired of hiding emotions that I push aside because, “I just don’t have time to fall apart right now.”

My soul is tired. It’s tired of straining to hold up the mask .

My mouth is weary. It cannot utter the words, “I’m fine,” one more time.

So this is me being honest. This is me falling apart. This is me crying out the tears that have been burning a whole sitting in my stomach. This is me pouring out the emotions that have turned to bile and started to poison my heart.

This is me breaking free from my porcelain frame.

This is being strong.

 

 

 

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24 Hours

family, life, love

We are all at once alive in one day,

and we die in one day.

Our entire lives can change in one day,

or they can stay the same in that same amount of time.

Within those 24 hours we have the power to love, hurt, give life, or take it away.

Everyday is a new step into the inevitable. Into the unknown. Into existence.

Each day is a gift–a fragile, finicky gift.

Life is not guaranteed, and a good one is not promised.

We must do our best to make the hours, minutes, and seconds count.

From the time you breath your first breath in this life,

until the day you breath your last,

you are a part of this world;

you are alive.

So why don’t you go out and make the most of it,

because today can be your day.

Be quick though,

the clock is ticking,

and time stops for no one.

An Open Letter To The Guys On The Row

Boys, college, God, life

Dear Guys on the row,

I want to thank you for comparing me to a dog today. I know that sounds a little counterproductive, but let me explain. I’m not thanking you because you decided to be a chauvinistic butt-head. Or because you almost brought me to tears. Or because you completely deflated the happy feeling I had in my heart.

No, I’m thanking you, because you reminded me of one thing: My worth, and identity, can no longer be wrapped up in what you think. The only One who can decide that is God, and He thinks I’m pretty freaking great. You see, I used to care so much about what you thought of me. Whether or not I was pretty, smart, funny, or clever enough, was all up to you. I let who I was become who you told me I was. But not anymore.

You proved to me once and for all that you will never see me the way He does. You’ll never be able to give me the approval I so desire, because you weren’t made to.

I’m sorry I ever put you in that position and that I ever elevated you to such heights in my mind. I can’t promise it won’t happen again, I am a 20 year old girl after all, but what I can say is that I will try.

I will try to believe the truth about myself. I will try to not care about what other people think about me. And I will definitely try to forget about what you said to me today.

Sincerely,

Dog Girl.

Why Father’s Day Isn’t Just For Fathers

college, family, life

A very long time ago, I lost my father to ALS. It was a couple of months before my third birthday– he had gotten sick just before my first. I was so young that I really don’t have any memories of him. Some would say it’s easier since I don’t know what I’m missing, but that’s not true. I’m very aware of what I’ve missed, but also what I’ve gained.

When I was in kindergarten we had a Father’s Day breakfast. As all of my friends’ dads showed up I started to finally get it: My dad wasn’t coming. I wasn’t going to show him my picture I drew or take him to my favorite slide on the playground. I became aware of my father’s absence that day. But even though I didn’t have my dad there to share pancakes with, I wasn’t alone. My amazing mom showed up to be with me. She was the only mom there, but that didn’t faze her, nothing really does.

After that day I had some pretty hard years. I knew there was nothing to miss of a man I couldn’t remember, and yet I missed everything. I wanted him at my recitals, and to teach me how to fish or play golf (his favorite sport). I wanted us to watch football together on Sundays, and for him to be the rock I sought out on my worst days. I didn’t even know what he sounded like. Even though I had many people to tell me how much he loved me and how proud he would be of me, it wasn’t him saying those things.

It cut pretty deep for a while, and led me to look for father figures in some not good places. But then one day I looked around me and saw all the men and women I had been blessed with.

I did learn to fish and play golf and I did have someone to come to my recitals and watch football with. I also had someone who taught me how to cook. Who made sure I had everything I wanted on my Christmas list. Who picked me up when I fell down, and taught me how much worth I have in this world. I had someone who was proud of me, and never let me forget it. I had many “someones” and they all stepped up to give me the daddy I so desperately desired.

I’ve come a long way since kindergarten. It still hits me sometimes though. That he didn’t get to see me graduate high school or torment my first boyfriend, that he won’t walk me down the aisle or cry when he holds his grandchild. But in those moments I remember who will be there and who has been there for me, and I am grateful.

Oh and I did finally find some old home movies. Everyone was right, he really did love me and would be very proud.

I’m Still Me

betrue, college, life

I’m still me…

With the crazy, frizzy, curly hair.

I’m still me, with the imperfect boobs.

I’m still me, with a muffin top.

I’m still me, with the giant zit.

I’m still me, without makeup.

I’m still me, with sweatpants on.

I’m still me, with the stretch marks.

I’m still me, during the mood swings.

I’m still me, when the dark moments come.

I’m still me, when you don’t see my worth.

I’m still me, when you do.

I’m still me, when I don’t know who ‘me’ is.

I’m still me, when I’m just…me.

The Fog

college, life, Uncategorized

It rolls in, smooth and sure of itself like a lion stalking its prey.

You don’t see it coming though. It hits you all at once.

One moment you can see and the next you’re blinded by your own thoughts.

It’s thick and unforgiving.

The sun is completely shut out and confusion swirls around you.

You try to remember the moments before the fog set in, it’s impossible though.

Your mind is entirely clouded with fragments of thought. Nothing truly complete, just little snippets here and there.

Only enough to shroud you, but never so that you can fully understand what’s going through your brain.

You try to tell yourself that this won’t last forever, things will go back to normal, but then the thought comes in: “What is normal?”

So then you wonder if this is normal. Is the fog friend or foe? You don’t know. You don’t know anything.

You forget what it was you were thinking about seconds after it crosses your mind.

But then, just as quickly as it came, the fog swiftly and deftly rolls out of your mind and things are clear.

You look around and see that once again the landscape of your mind has changed.

And just like when you have to clean up after a storm tears through a town, you begin the reconstruction of yourself.

Look, the sun is out again.

 

 

The Feeling

college, life, love

There’s a special kind of pain. It’s the kind of pain where you can feel every pulse of your heartbeat, and with every breath that draws your chest upward, it’s like a thousand knifes bearing deeper into your soul.

All your nerve endings are on fire; searing, burning, screaming fire.

Then the tears come. Fast and hard. They fall from your face like fat goblets of truth. They burn your eyes as they leave them, further validating the pain you feel.

Then the screaming comes. Gut-wrenching, breath-stealing, ear-ringing screaming.

Finally, you’re so exhausted that all you can muster is a pitiful “please.” You silently plead with God, asking Him for them not to be gone.

But you know it’s for naught. And as you lay with your spent body in pieces the screaming will cease, the tears will dry up, your nerve endings will relax, and the pain will dull.

Because now it comes in moments, and you know that all you have to do is make it through.

The Truth Hurts

college, life, love

You’re not who you thought you’d be.

He’s not who he said he was.

They didn’t care as much as you wanted them to.

Life is harder than you were prepared for.

Dreams die quicker than they should.

Sleep is way too fleeting.

Rest is almost impossible.

And somewhere along the way you just gave up.

But maybe you are who you’re supposed to be?

Yeah he sucked, but maybe the next guy won’t?

They weren’t your real friends and you knew it.

Disney is bullshit.

Dreams only die if you let them.

I mean, basically, you still won’t sleep.

Make time for rest. Demand it.

Giving up is not an option. Pour some coffee, turn on some music, put on some red lipstick and get your ass out there.

Living

college, life, love

Sometimes life really likes to try and get you down. You start to feel as if that next fake smile might be the one to finally shatter your soul, and unleash the flood of emotions you’ve been holding back.

It’s like we’re all walking down one long New York City street. Where everyone is walking the same way, fast, and with a purpose. No one looks up or around; they just keep walking. But then something happens. Loss, a break up, a failure, and you’re forced to stop. You look around at where you are and realize it’s not at all where you thought you’d be. Everyone is still walking around you and you’re just standing, taking inventory. It’s scary and lonely, but oh so necessary.

You see, some people never look up. They let the flow of people pull them in the direction they think is forward. They forgot to treasure life because they’re always just trying to get to the next block. When your little bubble of false security is burst, you have a rare opportunity to choose the direction you want to go.

It’s terrifying realizing just how fragile and short life is. We have no control over that, only God knows. You may even feel paralyzed because of your new found knowledge, but you can’t let it bring you down. It’s meant to lift you up! To elevate you to new heights that you never even imagined before.

This is when my only knowledge of Lost comes in: Allow yourself to be scared for five seconds. And then get out there and live your life.

One…Two…Three…Four…Five…