Being a Human.

"Being a human being is not easy, and it often feels so lonely, like we’re the only ones feeling the way we do. I am so grateful when I can see myself in someone else, when I am humbled by what I needed to hear, and when I am reminded that I am not alone."

Did y'all read Fiona Apple's letter regarding cancelling the South American leg of her tour due to her dying dog?  If not, you really should.

I was touched and moved by her letter, and had those unfortunate moments of wondering what it would be like when my own pet dies.  And I thought that was that.

But then I read Tracee Elliss Ross' take on the letter and felt even more grateful for truth and the power of words.  I am never more grateful for the internet than when I read something that makes me feel seen and understood.  Especially this:

"This letter is so brave, the stuff of giants. What is so extraordinary about Fiona’s words and what touched me so deeply is her courage and her willingness to own her truth. To trust her gut and choose love — that heart-wrenching mixed bag — and choose to be present in the face of heartbreak and joy, is truly amazing.  I am always in awe of people who choose to be present for the reality of a true connection. To allow a being to be as important as Janet is to Fiona is a beautiful and powerful thing."

Words could never ring more true than they did yesterday, and it's exactly what I needed.  Sometimes being a human is harder than you'd hoped and true connections are more difficult to achieve than they should be.  But acknowledging the problem is half the battle, right?

image via pinterest/tumblr   

Moving Forward.

I wasn't gonna be so political on this here blog, but then I saw this photo and I just couldn't help it.

Hot damn I love these two!

And since I"m already here I thought I'd post these words because they filled my heart with joy and hope.  Let's do this thing together, folks.

"I believe we can seize this future together because we are not as divided as our politics suggests. We’re not as cynical as the pundits believe. We are greater than the sum of our individual ambitions and we remain more than a collection of red states and blue states. We are, and forever will be, the United States of America."

image found here. quote found here.

The Body Love Blog.

Warning: Long Post Ahead.   No hurt feelings if you don't read. 

Have y'all seen/read Humans of New York??  If not, you really really should.  It's such a wonderful pick-me-up for me.  Whenever.  Forever.  Brandon always seems to find the most wonderful and charming and smile-enducing folks to photograph and the blurbs are the best part.  I can't tell you how many times I've teared up just flipping through.

You might've also heard about Stella and the Body Love Blog.

I heard about Stella through Humans of New York and I am grateful.  It's rare when a stranger can reach through and mean something so powerful to you via the internet.  Stella means that to me.

Long story way too short that is much better written elsewhere (PLEASE GO READ HER STORY ON HUMANS OF NEW YORK) she was excited to see Brandon taking photos and asked to take his photo.  One thing lead to another and she made her mark and ended up on the Today Show.

Below you will find the original post:
 
Today I met an NYU student named Stella. I took a photo of her. Afterwards, she told me about a self-portrait she recently posted on Tumblr. So, instead of the photo I took, here is her self-portrait:
thebodyloveblog:

WARNING: Picture might be considered obscene because subject is not thin. And we all know that only skinny people can show their stomachs and celebrate themselves. Well I’m not going to stand for that. This is my body. Not yours. MINE. Meaning the choices I make about it, are none of your fucking business. Meaning my size, IS NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS.

If my big belly and fat arms and stretch marks and thick thighs offend you, then that’s okay. I’m not going to hide my body and my being to benefit your delicate sensitivities.

This picture is for the strange man at my nanny’s church who told me my belly was too big when I was five.

This picture is for my horseback riding trainer telling me I was too fat when I was nine.

This picture is for the girl from summer camp who told me I’d be really pretty if I just lost a few pounds

This picture is for all the fucking stupid advertising agents who are selling us cream to get rid of our stretch marks, a perfectly normal thing most people have (I got mine during puberty)

This picture is for the boy at the party who told me I looked like a beached whale.

This picture is for Emily from middle school, who bullied me incessantly, made mocking videos about me, sent me nasty emails, and called me “lard”. She made me feel like I didn’t deserve to exist. Just because I happened to be bigger than her. I was 12. And she continued to bully me via social media into high school.

MOST OF ALL, this picture is for me. For the girl who hated her body so much she took extreme measures to try to change it. Who cried for hours over the fact she would never be thin. Who was teased and tormented and hurt just for being who she was.

I’m so over that.
THIS IS MY BODY, DEAL WITH IT.

and FUCK YOU ALL who tried to degrade my being and sense of self with your hurtful comments and actions. 

GUESS WHAT IT DIDN’T WORK HAHAHAHAH

xoxoxoxoxoox

 Stella is a hero.  To me.  To many others.

I've struggled with my weight much of my adult life.  It's not something I like to openly discuss as it hits too close home to me.  It's not something I like to discuss because it's personal.  It's not something I like to discuss because I know it is self-induced.  Sure I could eat less.  Sure I could eat better.  Sure I could exercise more (at all).  If it really bothers me so much I should (and can) change it with a lot of work. 

You see I've gained weight, lost weight, and gained it back.  I loved and hated being skinny.  I loved the clothes and I loved the way I felt; I hated the attention I received.  There is so much more attention than when I'm fat.  Even from people I know.  It's almost like I mattered more because I was more conventionally attractive.  I hated it.  I'm not saying that's why I gained the weight back, but I wasn't necessarily heartbroken to not deal with that shit anymore.

Sure it might've been because it was in contrast to my previous weight.  I, too, want to congratulate people when I see they've lost weight.  But it wasn't the congratulations or conversations about it, it was the conversations people didn't have with me before but had since the weight loss.  As if I made it to the cool kids' table.  It's such a complicated issue and I'm sure my lack of objectivity only makes it worse, but I know how I felt and I didn't like it.       

I'd love to wear all the fabulous outfits I put together on this blog, but would most likely not fit into them.  To be completely honest, that's partly why I've stopped posting here.  It feels disingenuous to be shilling a life that is so far from my own.  It used to be my life and still could be, just in a different clothes section and I haven't admitted that here.  Nor have I dealt with it in my life.  I vacillate between wanting to accept my body for what it is no matter its size and losing the weight I've gained in the past two years.

Part of me knows I'd be healthier and happier if I lost the weight and that's worth it all.  Part of me worries that I'm not solving any problems by not loving who I am now, the way that I look now.  If I can't do it looking like this I never will.

If only Stella could whisper sweet nothings in my ear. 

And, honestly, that's what I'm trying here -- I'm trying to be honest and straight forward.  I'm hoping to be as honest as I can about a topic that is both utterly confusing and horrifically embarrassing for me.  I'm hoping by saying it out loud I'll take the wind out of the sails and be able to move forward.  I don't even know if that makes sense to you.  I'm not even sure if that matters. 

If anything, thank you for being part of a space that lets me make sloppy pronouncements like this.        

Ready to Stand.

I admit it: I’m late to this game and shamefully so.  Not only was I aware of Chick-fil-A’s tie to anti-gay organizations via their WinShape Foundation, but I was also willing to turn a blind eye.  My only excuse is, damn, I loved that stupid fast food!  It reminded me of home and was delicious to boot (if you’re into that whole fried in peanut oil thing, which, frankly, if you’re not I don’t think we can be friends).  But that is the worst excuse in the whole history of excuses and if Dan Cathy can come out to say he’s “guilty as charged” then so can I.  I’m guilty of being a hypocrite and not acting upon my beliefs. 

So, here I stand to say that I, too, join the Chick-fil-A boycott. 

It must be done; I cannot knowingly support an organization that does not believe in equal rights for all human beings.

 

The Muppets were definitely a kick in the gut, but truth be told, Chick-fil-A lost my patronage when I saw this:

 

Lying is not a Christian value and has repercussions unlike any breach of the “biblical definition of the family unit” ever could.  You should be ashamed. 

Bully.

[Hey, remember when I had a blog and actually did something with it?  Yeah.  I'm not gonna apologize because I've been LOVING not being tied down and it's my blog, I'll do what I want.] 

What I want is to force each and every one of you to GO. SEE. THIS. MOVIE.

Have we all heard of Bully?  It is BRUTAL.  Bruuuuuuttttaaaaaalllllll.  But absolutely necessary. 

Let us please provide a voice for those who can't speak.

I'm not saying I have a solution for this problem; I don't have the first idea of what these children need other than a safe place to learn and live.  We can't expect school systems to solve the problem simply, our homes must be involved, but how do we change the way people parent?  How do we change a child's lack of empathy?  I don't know.  And it breaks my heart. 

What I do know is that we can start the conversation for these children and there is no better way than seeing this documentary. 

Shady Lady.

Hey, shady lady, you so pretty.  I already have two pairs of sunglasses all ready to go for Puerto Rico (I apologize, I will be talking about it endlessly), but if I didn't -- these pretties would be mine!  Aren't they killer?

What do you think about the shades I actually purchased?

I'm currently sitting here with kleenex shoved up my nostrils because I have to stop wiping my noise before I rub the skin raw.  [Nice visual, huh?]  But I keep sneezing and ruining the whole set-up.  I so rarely get sick and I managed to come down with a wicked cold six days before I leave for vacation.  Awesome!

You know what?  Ain't nothin gonna hold me down. 

________________________________

In other news, it's my oldest friend's 30th birthday today!!  Everyone, all together now, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ANDREA!"

I met Andrea when I was a wee little fifteen year old while we were both in our high school's drama class.  We became fast friends and fourteen years later I can't imagine my life without her.  She's such a constant source of strength in my life and one of those friends that I know I will have forever. 

Remember that time you rolled out of the car YOU WERE DRIVING because a spider fell in front of your face??  Remember when we broke back into Best Buy to give that cute guy both of our phone numbers?  Remember when we basically watched some dude rob your neighbors and didn't do anything about it because we thought it'd be racist?  Or that night we painted that apartment?  Or that guy that kept talking about DaNILE not just being a river in Egypt?  New Year's Eve in New York City?  Driving down 141 to go to Fellini's and thinking that was a major get-away?  I.C.E?  The Hardee's parking lot in Charleston?  A cold library of ice?   T.G.I.Fridays and that very first night at the movie theatre?  Rewinding that She's So High cassette tape countless times and dancing?  Seeing Ms. Reeves on the side of the rode... and simply waving?  Smith, Smith, Smith, Smith?  Drew Barrymore?  Too many road trips they all blend together?  Boomboxes and hanging speakers around your neck?  That pretty blue Volvo?  And, best of all, all the tears and stories and laughter?

Thank you so much for being such a great friend; I'm very lucky and blessed to have you in my life.  You're more than a friend, you're family.   

Ok, Here's The Deal...

Have I been MIA?  Yes.  Do I have an excuse?  No.

The thing is that this here blog has become a bit tedious for me.  I keep waiting for the feeling to go away (it usually does), but it hasn't.  My Christmas break didn't help abate the feeling and I wasn't sure what to do.  Sooooooo, I didn't do anything.

But.  I've made a decision, a non-committal, might change my mind kind of decision: I'm gonna stop with the Every Day Posts.

I know, I know.  I used to do two posts a day and now I can't even commit to one post a day?  BLASPHEME!  It's just that the posts have been so, er, for lack of a better word, uninspired.  And it makes blogging a chore -- which is not why I signed up for this thing.  I want to be better FOR YOU.  So, my plan is to blog when inspiration strikes and not just to keep some imaginary schedule I've created for myself.

Who knows how long it will last; I may end up striking inspiration gold in a day or two.  Or I may not.  Or the experiment may be a complete trainwreck and I'll have to reevaluate.  We will only have time to see.

I hope you stick with me on this shaky ground.  I couldn't be here without all of you!!  [Well, I guess I could, but it would be quite depressing.]  I hope to have all the kinks figured out soon and be back with posts that you deserve.  Posts I feel good about.

Til then I bid you, my dear friends, adieu!*

*Don't worry, I'll probably be back soon to talk about the shit show that are the Oscar nominations. 

image via i can read

The Gay Rights Movement.

Let's be on the right side of history. 

Word.

via pinterest

It's my birthday.

It's my birthday.

And I'll cry if I want to.

Seriously.

I've always wanted to be the girl who is so effortlessly chic about her birthday, but I have to come to terms with the fact that I'm not.  My birthday presents strong emotions that I don't feel any other time of the year and as much as I don't want to admit it, I'm a weirdo about my birthday.

It's something that came on later in life.  Though, it has very little to to do with age.  I've always wanted to be older than I am.  I'm the youngest of three and absolutely abhor when people refer to me as young, so I've waited a lifetime to be thirty (still a year away).

It's the pressure.  The idea of a "birthday" and how it needs to be So Much Fun.  I am fully aware that it is my own insecurities flying high that make me feel this way, but no other day makes me as crazy.  Unfortunately it's also the one day that people pay the most attention.  Me being crazy and people paying attention isn't necessarily the best combo.    

I refuse to let expectations get the best of me for my birthday.  In fact, I refuse to let expectations get the best of me this year.  I know that's slightly redundant, but this is my goal.  I fully recognize that my own unhappiness is in direct relation to my expectations.

This I shall change.

And next years birthday (30!!) will be the better for it.

photo via pinterest

Remember.

I cannot stop thinking about this since I first saw it. 

Truth.

THIS.

Let me remember this.

Troy Davis.

It's impossible to find something cute and trivial to blog about when a possibly innocent man is being executed.

Illinois did it.  Georgia, it's your turn.  Please abolish the death penalty!

It is too late for Troy Davis, but let us learn from his story.  Studies show that not only does the death penalty not deter people from committing capital offenses, but also that innocent people have been murdered by our justice system.

One life does not equal another, and eye-for-an-eye is no way to live at all.  The world is watching and we should all be ashamed.   

Marilyn.

I love this. 

Fear.

I don't want this for my future.  I should remember that.

**Sorry, I was really struggling on the blogging front last night... obviously.

found via i can read

In Defense of Gwyneth Paltrow.

I’ve actually considered writing this post many times before, well, maybe more than twice before (does that constitute many?) and decided not to. Why? Well, because it took me a long time to decide if Gwyneth Paltrow was someone I wanted to defend.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think she’s in need of my defense. Nor do I think she would actually care for my defense. And maybe that’s why I haven’t written it. GP is so out of my league. Seemingly more out of my league than any other celebrity because she appears to have “an air” about her. Someone that likes her position, more than appreciates it, and will continue to cultivate an air of superiority.

But then, I’m not even sure if that’s true. Why do I think that? Yes, she writes Goop. Yes, I subscribe and half roll my eyes every time I read it. BUT should I fault her for being in a better position than I am? Fault her for the perks she has either been given because of her familial position or what she has made for herself? And, let’s not forget, I am the one who subscribes.

I wrote earlier about the world of women and how it’s easier to bash than praise. I’ve been afraid that that is what’s going on here. Am I just jealous? Am I more than annoyed because she seems to keep popping up everywhere, from Glee to the Oscars and this new-found music career?

Ultimately, that’s where I think my distaste lies, her subsequent music career post-Glee. I get it, you sang in a movie (or two), you sang for a tv show, BUT that does not a music career make. And your, for lack of a better term, apparent greediness to squeeze out another career for what, more money? more exposure? has left me with a bad taste in my mouth.

I know, I know. I said I was writing this post in defense of GP.

My not-so-sudden hesitation to dislike GP for the reasons stated above (and others not really worth mentioning due to your peace of mind, reading-wise) are tempered by other thoughts.

Why should a woman who has the possibility of extending herself in another creative field not take the chance just because others might find it gauche?

Wouldn’t you be proud of someone you knew and loved taking chances on something that they enjoy? I know I would be.

And that’s where my defense for GP lies.

I have grievances because she IS GWYNETH PALTROW and apparently (to me?) that means she wants more than she deserves. But, who am I to decide that? And why should I fault another woman for extending herself in an unfamiliar way, especially when it’s as public as this?

Answer: I shouldn’t.

Soooo, from now on I refuse to disparage GP in a way that isn’t founded in merit. (I still have a strong opinion about acting, after all.)

I’m interested: what do you think?

So true, right?

paper owls via tumblr 

The Best of Yourself.

Have you guys heard of Dear Sugar?  It rocked my world when I found it yesterday, so please forgive me if I am behind the times.  (It's been known to happen.)  I had literally put out a request (as my gchat status -- not a far-reaching plea) to send me something interesting to read.  The five people who might've seen that status didn't respond, so I was forced to do it on my own.  I think I started by trying to find fun, new blogs filled with recipes that would make me drool and stumbled upon not martha.  This kept me company for a while (sorry, work) before she pointed me in the direction of Dear Sugar and said I must start reading NOW.  I've always been very good at doing what I'm told and, let me tell you, I was not sorry.  Dear Sugar had me near tears more times than I'd like to admit... especially since I was still sitting at my desk, in public.  She's funny and inspirational and gives totally original, rocking advice.  Sometimes when I was afraid she would resort to a pat response, oooohhh noo, I was wrong -- she tells it like it is.  She's like a down and dirty Dear Prudence.  (There is definite language and mention of a heroin past, if that matters to you.)

In my reading I stumbled upon some advice she was giving to a 64 year-old man who was nervous about asking a younger woman out.  He referenced wanting to be like Cary Grant in his ask.

This is only a small portion of what she had to say, but it stopped me dead in my tracks:

I agree with your counselor that light and easy is the way to begin—with her and with any woman you ask out—even if you have to fake it for a while.

Which happens to be precisely what Cary Grant did.

He wasn’t born a suave and bedazzling movie star. He wasn’t even born Cary Grant. He was a lonely kid whose depressed mother was sent to a madhouse without his knowledge when he was nine or ten. His father told him she’d gone on an extended vacation. He didn’t know what became of her until he was well into his thirties, when he discovered her still institutionalized, but alive. He was kicked out of school in England at 14 and by 16 he was traveling across the United States, performing as a stilt-walker and acrobat and mime. Eventually he found his calling as an actor and changed his name to the one we know him by—the name your counselor invoked because it’s synonymous with male charisma and charm and fabulousness, but he was always still that boy inside. Of himself Grant said, “I pretended to be somebody I wanted to be and I finally became that person. Or he became me. Or we met at some point.”

Can you believe that?  After some research (re: checked wikipedia) it totally turns out to be true (not that I didn't believe Dear Sugar, but I did want to do some rudimentary fact-checking for thee blog).  I never knew Cary Grant's back story and this quite literally took my breath away.  Can you imagine finding your mother in an institution when your were 31?!?  It blows my mind.

But what I'm especially drawn to is this idea of "faking it before you make it."  It's definitely something I've ascribed to in the past, but easily forget how much it works.  There is truth in your actions and even if you don't feel it, there is a reason you can follow through.  Sometimes you're the last person to believe the truth about yourself and if you have to fake yourself out for a while, well, why not?

If Cary Grant, the epitome of charisma and talent, had to force himself to believe he was the best of himself by faking it, we can all do it too.  A wise woman once told me not to force my identity into a previously created box because of former or current beliefs.  People grow.  People change.

I can be a better version of myself, even if I don't believe it yet.

And so can you.

image: valentinadesign via pinterest   

True love.

via i can read

Shades of Grey.

I stopped on Oprah the other day because she was interviewing past Oscar winners; I told you, I'm obsessed with award shows.  Well, I barely watched any of it, but what I did see was Holly Hunter answer a question about what she would say to a young version of herself.  She talked about how everything is much more a shade of grey and not as black and white as when she was younger.  This struck me and I can't get it out of my mind.

I spent a large part of my life trying to make people happy.  Don't get me wrong, I still have major people pleasing tendencies, but I've worked very hard to develop an opinion of my own and to stand by it (starting a blog helps with that sort of thing -- it forces you to document your opinion for others to see!).  After spending so much time trying to make other people happy rather than myself I think I got a little caught up.  I think I had a bit of an adrenaline high of stating opinions, or even having an opinion, and defined myself and those around me a little too drastically.

It's important to remember that life is filled with shades of grey, at least it's important for me and I hope so for you, too.  It's easy to decide something is wrong or right, it isn't easy to understand a point of view that isn't yours or support a friend that's making a decision you don't approve of.  But being non-judgmental makes life easier.  And better.  We all lead very different lives and we all come from very different places and it's important to remember that my way is not the right way.

Life is too short to let judgment affect our decisions.

I'd like to go forward and remember that not everything is as it seems.  And that we all have some form of hurt inside us that helps to inform our decisions.  It is better to be kind than to be right.  This I need to remember.

photo via flickr