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.

Names…

betrue, college, life, names

Most people, if asked, would not be able to tell you my name. I’m not talking about my Facebook name, or the countless other names I’ve associated myself with throughout the years, I’m talking about the name that’s on my birth certificate. The one that my parents spent months planning. The one that God purposed for me when He was deciding to put me in this world. This post is titled Names.. because for the next few paragraphs, I will take you through the three names that have mostly defined my life, and then explain why I have decided to take my name back.

The Story: 18 1/2 years ago, a woman and a man found out that they were going to be parents to a beautiful little girl (Ok they knew the girl part, the beautiful part was realized later). This commenced the “name game”. Books were read, advice was asked, but nothing was coming. Then one day the woman decided that she wanted something that meant strong and beautiful, but that wasn’t Alexandra. And then (so my mom says), she met one of the most beautiful women she has ever come across, and, in that moment, decided that her child would be named the same. Thus the girl was born!

Alex: Almost immediately after, people began to call said girl Alex, and she would go by this name for many years. Alex was quiet, most would say introverted; you could almost always find her with her nose in a book. She was smart and very much so in the tomboy phase. She loved Spongebob, and adored spending hours playing with her Barbies. Alex was a force to be reckoned with. She was independent, bossy even; but she didn’t care. Alex was Alex and she liked her that way…

Cea: Sometime during the Alex era, Cea was born. Now Cea wasn’t much different from Alex, but she liked her name a little better. Cea was definitely bossy, and she loved it. She had many younger peers who looked up to her, so she felt the need to mature and be the leader. Cea was constantly making up new games to play, and finding new adventures to go on. Cea was strong, and admired, and she liked that very much….

Ali: Just as quickly as the era of Cea began, it ended. Alex was revived for a little bit, but she knew it was a dying cause. Then, in high school, Alex realized that she could change, almost a “reinventing” of sorts. That’s when Ali came into the picture. Ali (Unfortunately called Ali as in Muhammad Ali at times), was very different from Alex. She was more of a girly girl, but had decided to put her dolls away. The strength was still there, but her streak of independence began to wane, and she became more of a “people pleaser”. Where as Alex was a little more quiet, Ali was outgoing, some might even call her extraverted. Ali loved to bake, and make people happy. She loved fashion and movies, but her never ceasing hunger for books was diminishing. Ali liked her name, and she thought she like herself, but she would have moments when looking in the mirror, felt the same as looking at a stranger. Then Ali began to wonder…

She began to question who she really was. Was she Alex, quiet, but independent? Was she Cea the leader? Or was she truly Ali, since most people seemed to like her that way? Then she realized was none of them apart, but all of them at once! She was not just one name, she was a name. The name that came to her mother those years ago. The name that God gave her. The name that trumped all others. But why did she let herself become divided? Why did she let people dictate who she was, because maybe they couldn’t say it right? That’s definitely not who she is. She is quiet, and introverted, but she also loves people. She is kind of a tomboy, but she can rock some heals and give make up tips. She is independent and strong, but she’s also learning what it means to listen and be vulnerable. She is all of these things, and she no longer wants to choose one name or the other; she is taking her name back….

In conclusion, don’t ever let people make you change your name. I know it sucks having to repeat it, or correct people, or in my case, write your name in phonetics for graduation. But guess what, your name is who you are. It’s not just a part of you, it is you, and if you let people change your name, you’re letting them change you. God put us here for a reason, not Alex/Cea/Ali, but me, He put me here for a reason. This is not to say that nicknames are bad, I have a few that I love (i.e. Coffee bean, bean, Gilly, etc), but they were never meant to take the place of my name; just be in addition to. Ok so, nicknames= not bad, changing your name to fit the world’s standards= not so great. And with that I will bid you all farewell.

*P.s. My name is Alexcea (pronouced Alex-see-ya)