Genius hack to a DIY gallery wall

I love shortcuts. I'm prone to some serious impulsivity and I love that this gallery wall uses one of my favorite things - WASHI TAPE!! 

Do you ever have one of those days where you're not even sure how you ended up in the clickhole you began? I couldn't even begin to tell you how I found this while searching for a new apartment, but I'm so pleased that I did. As someone who rents, it's always such a conumdrum when decorating. 

I had forgotten about Honestly WTF and then stumbled upon this gem and I was like, WHAT HOW WHEN. (Sidenote, isn't it so crazy when we used to read a blog almost every day and then your routine changes and then it's like you become strangers?) 

Well, I'm so glad I found them again. I'm definitely doing this and I also feel justified in my use of washi tape which is generously used throughout my house. 

Image courtesy of Honesty WTF

BODIES, BEAUTY STANDARDS AND THE PRESSURE TO BE EVERYTHING

When I began teaching fitness, my own vanity was like, YES NOW I WILL FINALLY ACHIEVE MY PERFECT BODY.

UGH, BODIES.

BEAUTY STANDARDS.

THE PRESSURE TO BE EVERYTHING.

This is something I rarely, if ever, address with myself.
I’ve driven myself crazy for years striving for the “perfect body.”

Let’s just get one thing out in the open; teaching fitness does NOT automatically hand you a banging bod. I’ve learned firsthand that you don’t get to look like a VS model just standing in a studio every day. (You are born that way or you aren’t.) Coming to terms with this has been very upsetting.

Teaching fitness also doesn’t include a new personality transplant or superhero self-control. I know, very to extremely disappointing to learn.

I’ve found out that being a fitness professional is not a shortcut to perfection.

Can anyone else relate to trying to achieve perfection through the following labels?

Whole30

Vegan

Clean eating,

gluten-free

sugar-free

dairy-free

Girl, I’ve tried it all.

I’ve also sought to be alcohol-free, caffeine free, and any number of the above labels to telegraph to the world that I am free from sin, I am free from judgment and I can't be judged, because of my label is my shield. Therefore, I am exempt from judgment.

OOF. Let’s talk about a losing battle.

Now more than ever, I think the pressure to be thin and have glowing, clear skin can be perceived as a moral failing. Many alternative healers and lifestyles touted in Goop and the like make it seem that if we aren’t eating plant-based, sugar-free, gluten-free (or whatever is in rn) then we’re going to inflame our system to high heaven, die from depression and our vaginas will stop working. Now, let me also be frank and say, almost 100% I subscribe to these kinds of alternative healing ideas, but to what end? If I end up blaming my own lack of self-control and then shame spiral? THEN WHAT?

I cycle through love for my body and contempt for myself because I FUCKING LOVE FOOD and to the detriment of my own mental health, I’m also very susceptible to wishful thinking. I think, “oh, I could do that keto eating program, I could give up sugar/ gluten/ carbs forever, I can become a disciple of Amanda Chantal Bacon aka health and wealth incarnate AND THEN I WILL BE UNSTOPPABLE.” Inevitably, 2 hours later, there’s been at least one chocolate bar or one cookie or one “health” smoothie later, I’m like, ok, tomorrow. TOMORROW IT HAPPENS.

Inevitably that cycle means I live under a mental cloud of what if’s and willful denial of my own nature.

But recently, I had a moment of surrender.

When I’m training clients, the clients who accept their limitations and modify to meet their needs accelerate through the workout more than those that deny their true fitness level.

So while it feels so counterintuitive, the first step to grow or change is accepting what is.

Huge personal eureka moment: accepting doesn’t mean I like it.

Accepting something doesn’t mean I agree or that I give up,  it just means I acknowledge the facts. Therefore, I had to accept some crucial facts about myself if I wanted to take away the power from IF/THEN and move the power back to myself and loving myself AS IS.

So here are some frank conversations I’ve had with myself over the past few months:
1)    I love food (you'd be amazed at how many times I've had to have this one with myself.)

2)    Joshua (fiancé) works for a taco restaurant 

3)    I hate cooking

4)    I am not someone who will succeed with a stringent eating plan or any sort of restriction. Anytime I’ve tried this is what happens: Eat a smoothie and salad, feel great! working out, not working out, working out, go out too late, BURGERS BURGERS BURGERS, 4 GLASSES OF WINE, TAKE OUT TAKE OUT TAKE OUT fuck I have to eat something healthy. SALAD? MUST GET BACK ON WAGON. CANCELS YOGA 7 TIMES AND THEN GOES TO ONE YOGA CLASS, FEELS INVINCIBLE THEREFORE PROBABLY SHOULD GET SOME MORE BURGERS, OH WAIT I’M HEALTHY NOW SO, ONE RUN, ONE EARLY MORNING SPIN, RINSE. REPEAT.

At what point do I work with myself?

One of the really cool things about my job is interacting with a lot of exceptional people from all walks of life. I’ve got fitness buffs, newbies, and every shape, age and whatever else you might want to throw out there.

And here’s the thing, I don’t judge any of them. Hand to God, I think all of them are amazing. I love hearing their stories, seeing their progress and just generally being in the presence of kind, fun people that like to work out (and laugh at my jokes).

When I recognized the beauty and strength in those around me, I was able to really see it in myself.

Surrender and acceptance lead to mental freedom. I am my own worst critic. We're only judging others because we're judging ourselves. When I recognize that, I can set myself free.

The takeaway: 

Self-love and acceptance do not spring from external changes in appearance, which I should know as I’ve cycled through endless fashion choices and hair colors and styles in search of both.

Confidence, self-love, and acceptance are what I am really seeking when I envy someone’s put-together look or strong core.

If I only accept myself within a set standard, then I'm not loving myself.

If I genuinely love myself, then I'm gentle and kind to myself and that naturally extends to others.

If you see someone make others feel bad or say that only a certain look is acceptable - then that is evidence of their own thought pattern that isn’t loving.

Let me address that this work is obviously in no way finished. It is not a linear process nor am I practicing this 100% of the time. I do think though, that the more we can name what burdens us, the more we can free ourselves.

I'm proud of all of the work I've been able to accomplish this year that was triggered by my move to Austin. 

Life in Austin

When people ask if I like Austin, I never quite know how to answer.

My first thought when people ask, is how can I answer unbiased? I met Joshua, my fiancé, and he has made Austin such a special place for me. I feel not as much that I chose Austin, but that Austin chose me; calling me in, showing me how to really live. 

When I arrived in Austin last summer, the first thing I did was sit outside at the delightfully Austin coffee shop Patika. Soaking in the air, the vibe of the city, feeling the difference between New York and my new adopted home (spoiler alert, it's much more relaxed here). Now, nearly a year later I can still conjure the feeling (albeit with a bit of heavy nostalgia for new beginnings). It was satisfying like the end of a movie where you've been rooting for the character to finally get their peace, but better because it's real and my life. 

I love Austin because I fell in love here. I love Austin because it called to me for years, humming in my brain, a few snapshots of eastside bungalows and craftsmen houses, outdoor spaces, and fresh air, popping up, a dream world that I wasn't sure I could live. I love Austin because I learned to just be here. I love the nature and the lack of dress code, a diametrical opposite of New York. 

At first, when people would ask about my experiences in Austin, I was struck by a pang of guilt, well, I've been spending all my time with this one guy, was I cheating my growth experience by finding love, by spending so much time with this one man? (Sidenote: I'm not going to delve into the darkness here about how I felt guilty about finding love, but I do want to acknowledge that I struggle with good things happening to me.) The funny thing is, as much as I felt like I could have been anywhere, the more I think about it, the more I realize Austin was a necessary component and not just set dressing in my journey.  

I've now co-opted the word untethering as a way of identifying the work I've been doing. Austin's essentially a come as you are party and from my experience, authenticity rules. People ask how you are and expect an actual answer. At the coffee shops, for example, the barista will ask what you've been up to or where you are going next. At first, I was actually disturbed by this invasion of privacy, Why tf are you trying to talk to me? Please leave me in peace to anonymously buy my coffee. But, all the earnestness in town has helped me break out of the performance of self that was my outer shell for New York, which if I'm being honest started in college. (The college years shook me to my core, I completely lost who I was and was scared out of my mind that I wasn't good enough, so I started frontin' REAL HARD.) Austin's 'hey man, yeah, that's cool, whatever, right on' attitude allowed me to see a lot of the B.S. of social pressures that we impose on ourselves and others. In Austin, the stakes feel much lower, which has allowed for me to experience greater amounts of just sheer being. I've cleared out a lot of the thoughts about how I'm presenting myself to the world and I'm just giving myself to the world without worry. 

Case in point, I used to get so worked up over my 'bad' skin. I've had mild to moderate acne since I was 22 and sometimes I would cry over the fact that my skin wasn't perfect. I would SHED REAL TEARS over a few zits. I spent countless hours at makeup counters, spas, and doctors trying to fix my face. When I got to Austin, I just said fuck it. A funny thing happened when I stopped wearing makeup, cut down my skin routine to just washing at night and slapping on moisturizer, my skin got better. Now, it's still not 'perfect' but I only wear foundation on special occasions. Same with my love-hate relationship with my belly. I used to think crop tops should only be reserved for those with teen-like bodies. Then I realized, if I want to wear a crop top, fuck it, if I have a little belly roll, then double fuck it, Rock on, this is what I chose to wear and if you take offense that I'm not a size two or have a flat belly, then that's on you.

In Austin, I stopped reading the news each day, I unsubscribed to a bunch of blogs and newsletters and I stopped keeping up with television shows. If there's one thing you take away from this, it's to take a news break. I used to listen to NPR as I drove over to the fitness studio each day, but I realized that it would put me on edge. I started to protect my energy by listening to the silence of the drive or happy music so that I could be my best self and give my best energy to the class. I haven't missed the news yet and my teaching continues to get better as I learn how to harness my energy even more. Now, my only news source now is the New Yorker and the people who I talk to in person. 

In Austin I've found the space to listen. I've been able to step away from the percieved judgment of others and allow myself the space to cultivate a real relationship with myself, learn what I actually like versus what I've thought it's cool to like  and while it is definitely a life process, I feel so lucky to be able to identify my own personal growth. 

All this is to say, I love Austin. Thank you for asking. 

. 

The challenge of forging my own path

When I graduated from Virginia Tech I was accepted into an executive training program at Macy's Inc. in New York City. Despite the fact that it was exactly what I went to school for (I graduated with a degree in fashion merchandising), it was a path for which I was woefully ill-suited.

Things had started well; I successfully pitched a new product category with my fellow young teammates, we had frequent parties at work and I had access to a massive sample closet. While it wasn't actually fashion, I landed in fashion bedding, and if being adjacent to my wants isn't the most apropos descriptor to most of my life, then really, I don't know, but that's something we can go into another time, MOVING ON.

My boss was 27 and in my eyes, the coolest girl on the planet, so obviously I took all my cues from her (read: blatantly copped her style and went to all of her doctors, IS THAT WEIRD?) and she was cool about it. I did my best to navigate office politics (okay, yes I did somehow have an office nemesis who occasionally stole my work, but other than that my coworkers were my friends and it was awesome).

Then all of a sudden, THE PARTY WAS OVER.

Bear Sterns, DEAD.

The market, ALSO DEAD.

Easy job, THE MOST DEAD. (And with this I have now revealed that I am currently in my early 30s)

Macy's, a dinosaur of a company, 'right-sized' along with all the other mass retailers. Miraculously, I made it through all the rounds of cuts but got moved to a department that magnified all my weaknesses, allegedly an intentional choice by a VP who "believed" in me, (FUCK YOU AND ALSO THANK YOU? IT'S A WEIRD MIX OF FEELINGS).

When the dust settled, it became abundantly clear that this was not the job for me. Despite the company saying, 'bloom where you are planted,' I was definitely not blooming. In fact, it was wilting, so much that I started to hate myself because I couldn't just be happy to have a job. 

So here I am, a young 20s millennial living that SATC lifestyle, faking myself through my career and feeling desperately trapped mixed with a healthy serving of guilt because who am I to hate my job during a recession?! All of a sudden, I'm in a massive shame spiral because I can't get in line with the corporate culture, and it felt like all of my friends were able to play by the rules of the game and succeed. Why couldn't I hack it? Why wasn't I able to beat the game like I had been able to in high school and college? 

I started looking for new jobs, but after interviewing at almost every big retail firm in New York and coming to the grim (for me) realization that Macy's was pretty darn plum for the industry. Finally, I had a come to Jesus moment after using up nearly two weeks of vacation and sick days by March and after 5 years of forcing myself into a career path, I QUIT.  

I really wanted to move to Portland, Oregon where I had recently visited a friend from college, but I was too afraid to move somewhere without a job. Instead, I took a calendar year to reset, moving back home to Virginia. I took easy jobs that only required a GED and ended up having one of the best years of my life. Despite the fact that I was taking control of my own happiness, reducing my stress to near zero levels and spending time with friends and family who were beneficial to my health, I felt terribly embarrassed to be 27 and living at home while I made a U-turn on life.

What really frosts my rolls is that I lost so much sleep over this and it was an in the flesh radical act! Now, while I jumped off the metaphorical cliff and then immediately was like, um, shit, I didn't think about the fact that I'm jumping off a cliff and I might be trying to backtrack midair (feel free to conjure up the scene from Forgetting Sarah Marshall where Jason Segal does this.) I look back and realize this was my first major attempt at living on my own terms; reclaiming my happiness and rejecting the prevailing societal standards about what comes after college. It was a prelude to my current lifestyle and my move over the summer to Austin. I don't like any of these options and I think I can do better despite people telling me to accept what I'd been given.

I used to wish I'd been brave enough to move to Portland, but now I am more gentle with myself, I just didn't have the language, toolbox or confidence to understand what I was doing to stand my own ground and be at peace with it. At the time I made my decision to pull the plug on Macy's, it was like I looked around and was like oh shit, I'm the only one at this party, so like, this party must suck right? Am I a sucker? It took me years to realize no, that's the myth of the best seller. Just because everyone gets it, doesn't mean it's the best, it just means a bunch of people bought it because of herd mentality.

It may seem like an exaggeration to say that leaving Macy's metaphorically felt like dropping out of society, but it's really only a shade off from what I believe that to be the reality of the situation.  I can choose to forge my path based on my own beliefs, or I can take the one given to me by my culture and society. Most people it seems don't question the script. At first, it is DEEPLY uncomfortable, but once I got on board with myself, I feel like I've been able to hit unsubscribe from a lot of messages that are just ridiculously useless. 

So I guess here's the message wrapped up with a bow: expectations can unintentionally yoke us to things that lead to our unhappiness, and I think too often, we're too afraid to look behind the curtain and ask questions the real questions. 

Where are you in your journey? 

Permission granted

Topline: I've been thinking extensively about the concept of permission. Why do so many of us feel like we need it before pursuing our dreams and goals? How many times have I denied my own wants because I wanted permission to live my life first? 

I've been brewing this post for a while now, prompted by my birthday which was a few days ago. Leading up to the my birthday dear friends and family asked very appropriate questions like, "what do you want for your birthday?" and "where would you like us to make dinner reservations?" I froze each time, because I have no clear idea on what I really want. 

I've begun to awaken fully to the realization that I've never answered these questions for myself because I've never really ASKED myself in all the time that I've been alive. When it's my birthday I chose something easy or hand off the task to others. I haven't given myself space to consider what I want to do. Of course, this really isn't about my birthday, it is merely a token for the fact that I haven't done THE WORK. 

Digging deeper, I've realized that I've waited for permission to like what I like. As a kid I loved to sing, a fact I found out when I ended up in church choir. Most kids hated it but for me it was a sanctuary for the simple fact that I LOVED TO SING. 

I didn't realize until college that this was the case. I wanted to know I was good before I could admit to myself that I liked it. In fact, I'm not sure that I've ever even said that I like singing! My perception as a young kid was that choir was dorky, therefore I didn't want to admit to liking something uncool, so instead I silently sought approval. Once I was deemed good then maybe I would admit I liked it.

In college, I really wanted to continue my extra-curricular singing, but I was too scared to audition for an a cappella group. I didn't think I was good enough and I wouldn't dare to audition, how presumptuous I would be, to think I could sing well enough to join! I look back now and think how foolish that was, and I wonder how did I internalize such a pernicious inner monologue? 

Why is it that I was (am) so eager to sit myself out on the sidelines? We don't have to pause too long for effect here, we can all yell out in unison, 'Judgment!' 

When it comes to the things I love the most (writing, singing) I've always been terrified to tell ANYONE that I even like those things because then they might JUDGE ME. They might say I'm bad at them, or someone might say that its uncool, or weird or strange. Writing this out underscores the saddest part, which is that I've shied away from the things I love because of fear. Who cares if I'm bad at it if I love something? Why let the haters shut down my show? Isn't this is whole plot of Little Miss Sunshine? If I enjoy it, then I should be out there doing these things! 

How long do I need to pump myself up before I just take the leap? Based on the tumblrs that I haven't deleted, I've been writing about this struggle FOREVER (or at least three years). 

 I wrote this on one of my tumblrs on May 27, 2015. 

If I could teleport to my past and give myself advice

It would be to explain how the mainstream world works. I’d say, self, this is how most people see everything and everyone. I’d make charts and some drawings so that it was explicitly clear to an adolescent me. Then I would be like BUT HERE IS THE SECRET: you can do whatever you want, really, because if you have confidence in your choice then you are solid gold. Most people are going to do what most people do.
BRAVE PEOPLE STRIKE OUT AND MACHETE THE NEW PATH.
I would probably not bring a machete. I might bring a picture of LeBron James.

It's equally heartening and disheartening to find that I've been publicly sharing my struggle to put myself out there for so long, but perhaps that is life? Is it always going to be a challenge to live authentically and be true to myself? 

Anyone on the other side and care to share? 

Let's all keep fighting the good fight.

Talk soon,

Jen

just a small thought for today

In my two previous careers (corporate retail, teaching middle and high school), I felt deeply uneasy about my career identity. I felt like my job was never right for expressing who I really am. Working in health and fitness is a better fit with my personal interests and love for people, but I still feel I have more to tap into creatively. 

With no clear plan on how to spend my time off (other than getting sucked into wedding planning) I have been working to set up my paints and my notebooks in places that are easy to get to, so that when I do have downtime, I am not endlessly scrolling instagram for wedding ideas, but am more likely to reach for a paint and experiment a little bit with watercolor. Last year around this time was the first time I put my work in the public, during a small art show in Bushwick. This year I'd love to sell my cards locally and perhaps on Etsy? Ideally I'd like to find a community of people in Austin who also paint and create. 

My life has changed so much since moving here that I'm still working on daily / weekly routines. In many ways, I feel like I'm back in college or high school, with loads of free time and no clear idea on how to use it effectively. It's a gift I sometimes worry I'm frittering away. I feel lucky to be shaken up and finding my footing, able to reset my routines and behaviors, but it can be deeply uncomfortable. I've found myself questioning my own interests, and I've observed how quickly I can become paralyzed by all of these new freedom.

When I was younger, I yearned for someone to just tell me what I am good at, or point out any path that might make me feel safe. Now, I know that I can't take shortcuts to my own happiness and success, but that doesn't stop me from feeling I'm a giant ball of potential without a clear path to express it/ unlock it.

Spending some time with my paints makes me feel good. Maybe the work I make will never go farther than my living room, but it's something I like and for now that seems like a solid starting place. 

OMG WEDDING PLANNING

OoF, clearly it's been hard to follow up on my last post from mid October. How do I top my reveal that summer of YOLO came complete with new life changing love? Perhaps one doesn't, but my journey continues. My love and I moved in together in October and we got engaged! Are we crazy? Of course! We moved in and got engaged after essentially knowing each other for 6 weeks. I counter anyone's skepticism with this - if you knew this was the person for you, why would you wait? And I mean that seriously, why would you wait? We were both ready to start our lives together. 

"I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible." 

-Harry,  When Harry Met Sally

I'm so excited to be engaged, to have a partner that I love and trust and want to marry, and it's crazy that here I am, the time has come for me and it's just like, holy moses, where is the playbook for this? 

I know when I was single I would read how planning a wedding is stressful and honestly I didn't believe it. I was like, it's a party and you invite everyone you know and you get to wear an awesome dress? WHERE IS THE BAD AND WHY ARE PEOPLE COMPLAINING? 

UM, NOW I KNOW. 

First, as someone who likes to know all the options before I make any decisions, let's first establish that it is incredibly overwhelming just trying to get a handle on the amount of wedding content out there. Where to begin? Magazines? Pinterest? Instagram? Apps? Blogs? Books? IT IS ABSOLUTELY TOO MUCH TO FILTER THROUGH. 

I've already abandoned about 15 different distinct wedding ideas already. I am hoping we get married this fall but as weddings need significant lead time and I don't even have my "vision" yet, me thinks it might be pushed out to spring 2019. 

Also, I wanted to include clips from Portlandia's "Cool Wedding" episode, but YOU HAVE TO HAVE HULU AND I FEEL LIKE THAT'S A BIG AGGRESSIVE. 

So, that's the latest update on my romantic life, Stay tuned for more updates on wedding planning. 

STATUS ANXIETY

OOOH GIRL. There’s nothing like being in a new place with only a handful of acquaintances to make you face yourself. Every damn day I'm challenging my belief system like I’m Tom Cruise in The Last Samurai (full disclosure, not a movie I’ve seen). 

Most recently, I've come face to face with the fact that I’ve been secretly status obsessed while believing myself to not be status obsessed. 

Now that I've been spending a majority of my time hanging in the suburbs when I hear myself start sentences like, 

"Oh I know so and so,"

 “I went to X NYC restaurant” 

  “I saw them film this,”  

“He lives in my neighborhood, well my old neighborhood,”

I am struck by how empty and sad it is.

Who gives A F U C K who I saw or if I went to a trendy restaurant, is that really how I’ve come to build my foundation of self worth? BY WHERE I USED TO EAT DINNER?

And yet, seriously, I’m realizing the answer was a resounding YES. I felt smug about my travels and all the places I would go to in New York City. I truly believed I was sophisticated because my favorite wine bar made me feel like I was someone. As far as I was concerned, I was living in the center of the universe and had it all figured out. 

Until I asked myself one key question:

1) Why am I doing this  

As I’ve begun to question my actions, the majority of the time the answer has come back, “to make it look pretty from the outside.”

Dark reality: 

The majority of my life decisions have been made for an invisible audience. I’ve stuck with choices long beyond their expiration because I was caught up with the entirely wrong metrics. I hadn’t stopped to ask myself, but does this actually make me happy?!  

Woah. Mind blown, right?  

My shift in perspective has come about slowly and then has snowballed the more I begin to samurai sword myself through the swirling BS.  

Here’s what I’ve learned: it’s either right or it’s not.

I have wasted a lot of time on not right.

Why? 

Because I’ve been chasing that elusive dream of Instagram perfection. I let the pressure from society influence me to believe that looking a certain way or having certain things is how I can attain happiness. I let the drive for status override my own inner compass. I’ve been going out and living it up when it turns out that I don’t even like to drink. When it turns out I don’t really like crowds. When it turns out I don’t really like to stay up late. Maybe I did, but it was driven by insecurity more than a desire to actually enjoy nightlife. 

So, is my whole life a lie? 

No! I value my experiences and I learned so much from living that life. It’s also what gives me so much more clarity now that I’m able to cut out the baloney and see what I actually like free of attachment to status. 

The biggest realm where I was chasing status? DATING. I lived my life like I was the star of my own dating reality show. 

 And it’s kind of like, you know literally so insane to admit, but it’s real and it’s true. My whole dating perspective was:

How can I change or make myself acceptable for you?

What are the other people who see us thinking?

WOAH.  

Now it’s:

THIS IS ME if you don’t like it, here’s the fucking door

How did I get here?

I met someone.  

Ugh. I know.  

We met and everything clicked for me, like how much of my life was performance.  

Why did I realize this? Because I realized I was just having fun. I am myself. I used to subconsciously pick fights with all of my boyfriends so that every time we hung out there was drama. I thought that was normal. Now? It’s just easy. I genuinely like hanging out with this person because I actually like this person for who they are and not for anything I gain from them. NOVEL CONCEPT!

It has been a shock to the system because now I actually understand what it’s like to live authentically.  

Here are some truths I’m living now:

My worth is self-defined and comes from within. No one can take it away and it doesn’t come from how I look or who approves of me. The more I ask myself what makes me happy, the more I don’t need to identify with external sources like clothes, jobs, or any other status symbol. 

I BELIEVE IN A THING CALLED LOVE.  

I wake up and and I’m grateful to spend time on earth with my partner (instead of secretly suffering).

I firmly believe that this is out there for everyone. 

Do not compromise.

I don’t have to and neither do you. Why would I want to fake it for someone? Literally everyone loses like Oprah in hell. You lose. HE LOSES. SHE LOSES. Whoever you are with loses. Once that clicked, it has been the biggest eye opener. 

The other million dollar come to Jesus moment?  

If it’s not a match, that is not a reflection on anyone’s value.  

Whenever it wasn’t a match, I would either devalue myself or the other person. I would suffer in silence or try to change someone or just generally cause trouble instead of moving on! 

Why was anyone’s value on the line? It’s just not the right match - that’s literally it. 

If I don’t like oranges, that doesn’t make oranges trash. 

Ego man. Always fucking with everything.  

Now that I’m beginning to untether from status, I feel free.  

I know that my clothes don’t make me valuable, I know that my make up doesn’t make me pretty. I know that my job doesn’t make me important.  

The world is completely new.  

Are you ready to ask yourself why?     

In case you needed the reference :)  

Obstacles I put up to keep myself from writing

HELP! TIMMY IS IN THE WELL. I’m stuck in a deep, dark cycle of writing paralysis. Each day I rehearse innumerable posts in my head, but when it comes to getting them out on paper (or directly to my screen) I’m shaking a new ketchup bottle and it’s full and nothing comes out and then everything suddenly is obliterated by ketchup and the fries are soaked and you can’t taste the burger.

More accurately, I’m Jude Law in I Heart Huckabees. He’s relied on one story about an encounter with Shania Twain to embue his whole life with meaning. When Lily Tomlin and Dustin Hoffman literally roll the tape on how often he tells it, he rejects their assertion on how central it has become to his being. However, later he comes face to face with how it’s come to define him for others during an important meeting, he literally barfs at the tragedy. I AM JUDE LAW. I’ve woken up to how I rely on certain narratives so that when they come out on the screen I’m like NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH, but unlike Molly Weasley, I’m just hiding out on twitter instead of taking on Voldemort aka all my writing insecurities. 

Therefore, the rut then has become my awareness of the rut. Like George W. Bush, IM AT A DECISION POINT(S). DOES THE CHALLENGE WIN OR DO I? 

So I’m here calling myself out. 

Will I let my story win or will I change the channel? Come back soon to find out. 

 As a bonus, I’ve included this inspirational clip from the Labyrinth: 

JUST CALL ME JENNIFER CONNELLY

YOU HAVE NO POWER OVER ME.