Fifty Shades of Purple

I dyed my hair purple. 

I know, guys, solid life decision. 

But, here I am, all fifty shades of purple.

 

I've learned a thing or two with this new shade gracing my lovely locks, though. Allow me... 

1.) To be confident. In all that I am, and moreover, all that I'm not. I'm awkward and anxious and weird, but I'm also kind and gentle and loving. I admire those that are able to march to the beat of their own drum, not question what they love, or as a dear friend used to say, "Just like what you like." I've never had a hair color be more ME, outwardly. It's pretty rad.... Err, purple. 

2.) Things fade quickly... Like bright purple into silver lavender, fresh skin into wrinkles, and blooming relationships into old news. Aside from fading being a cool haircut trend and a cool transition setting on PowerPoint, I've realized how fragile we are. I believe in laughter wrinkles and grays. I believe in entertainment and learning. And I believe that all that is before us is fading; only after things fade away did I see this clearly. We are fragile and human, but we can make a lifetime worth remembering; a lifetime that will fade into the lives of those that come after us. 

3.) Seek to understand first. I often put up walls of judgement, walls of 'Ugh-Why-Did-You-Look-At-Me-Like-That-You-Must-Be-A-Mean-Person,' to be more precise. It helps to understand and try to view things from another perspective other than your own; always seek to understand before making assumptions. And second part of this, don't always take things personally. And then refer back to number one. 

4.) I confirmed my desire to be a mermaid. Ariel was crazy for wanting feet. I want thingamabobs and gadgets and gizmos a plenty..... And a mermaid tail, please. Literally nothing else needs to be said on that topic. Except when you come up to me and say I look like a mermaid, I'm literally gleaming with joy on the inside. 

5.) People don't match their shirts to their hair. Stop saying, "OMG do you have a million purple shirts?!" No. I do not. Do you have a million blonde or brown shirts to match your hair, no. Just no. Stop asking if I match my hair to my clothes, nobody does that, so purple hair should warrant no other response. Plus, you're making my resting bitch face game SO strong when you ask me that question. 

6.) What you see in the mirror will always surprise you. Like when I see my reflection and it still shocks me most times, "What's in my hai...... Oh. Right. I did that. Intentionally. It's purple now atop my noggin...." Try as we might to have a solid grasp on our reflection, it's ever changing. Stop to take a look, but don't be surprised if what stares back at you has changed since the last time you checked. Sometimes it shocks us because it is the first time we actually SEE ourselves, because maybe we haven't wanted to take a hard look in the mirror for quite some time. 

7. How much freedom we have. Not just as a female, but as a human. We don't have to cover our heads or keep it a certain length. We have the utmost freedom of expression, and for that I am forever thankful. 

8. Purple isn't even my favorite color. But due to the fact I now have three pairs of purple PJ's due to people not understanding number five, I think it will quickly become one. PS thank you. 

9. Being professional is about your attitude, behavior, and work ethic; not your hair color or how many tattoos you have. You can excel in a business world, if you are business-minded. {Get it, excel... Bahaha. Word.} 

10. I'm still me. Changing your hair color changes everything, and nothing all at the same time. 

Dye your hair purple; or blue, or bright pink... Or that new pastel My Little Pony trend; do it up. 

All My Purple Love, 

thewordmedic.

Dance With Time

There's things in life you do, and things in life you didn't do. 

They say the only things you regret are the things you don't do. 

But there will always be moments in life that you're unsure whether it was something you did, or something you didn't do. 

A haunting feeling of regret that creeps in unexpectedly; that swallows you when you have your guard down. Because in life whether we regret a thing we did or didn't do, time continues to pass.

Our lives perpetually move forward, as much as we want to rewind or stop or just not carry certain things with us into the future. 

But we must. And that's the beauty of humans. 

There's so much in us; I'd argue to say the universe is within us all... What we do with it is our choice alone. 

So whether it's a thing we did, or a thing we didn't do, dance with time and bring it into your future; it's there for a reason, to do much more than haunt your dreams and unguarded moments. 

dear future husband,

I don't want to be your maybe relationship. 

I don't want to be your psychotic ex. 

I don't want to be the one that got away. 

I don't want to be your 11pm call. 

I don't want to be second.

I don't want to be the what if.

I don't want to be the if only.

I want to be someone's happy ending.

dear future husband, 

((queue Meghan Trainor)) 

Here's a few things that you ought to know..

I'm not going to love you half-assed. Interpret that as you will..  

I'm going to worry about you. Your health. Your well-being. Your happiness. Your attraction to me and if someone else has your heart// eyes. All of it. I worry because I sincerely care. Promise, promise not to go overboard.

I'm anxious and insecure at times. Just do one little thing every day to show you care. Kiss me before you leave for work. Hold my hand. Plan a date. Take a picture of me when I don't know and show me later and tell me how beautiful I was in that moment.. Ya know, the cheesy, corny romantic schtuff. I dig it. 

I also just need you to be a man though. Strong, protective, not always ready for feeling-talks, capable of fixing anything..I don't need to list out what you do best. Just know I love that part too, if not more, than your cheesy, romantic side. 

I want the world for you. I will strive for you to have it. 

Let me leave my towel on the floor and use a different one every day. Please.

Usually when I say, "Is this a good idea?" It is because it is not a grand idea at all. Prohibit me from doing whatever comes after this sentence. That, or I'm being a giant chicken and need pushed out of my comfort nest. You will know the difference, no pressure. 

I will crack up at New Girl when nobody is home, stop judging me. 

I just really want to please you. In everything. But I will most likely lose myself in that venture; again, the wholehearted thing. It's a double edged sword. Help me not lose me. 

Yes I eat midnight snacks, and no they're not figure friendly. I shall repent in hot yoga later, I don't need your night eyes looking at me like I'm a fatass. We can share the brownies and pizza, okay?! 

I'm going to carry my past with me; it's not baggage, it's my story. It's me. It's how I became the woman you got on one knee for ((or whatever creative thing you do)) Please understand with me comes my story and all involved.

I'm a female. I cry when I'm happy. Or you know... Any of the emotions. It's confusing for me too, just hold me and play with my hair or be like, "LOOK! A baby bunny!" or, "LOOK! Cheese pizza!" And I'll be totally fine within point five seconds. 

I get hangry. Hanger is so real. And so dangerous. Just feed me, okay? Like a little bit every two hours. 

I won't understand any pop culture reference. 

I don't know directions. Period. It's not one of those, "It's really cute, just show me and then I'll remember and we can laugh our way through it.." kinda things. It's just all bad. I canNOT for the LIFE OF ME (literally about to die in traffic) form a mental map. Drive or give me directions that would allow a blind man to get there. 

Maybe I used to know you, know you now, or have never met you.. But dear future husband, thank you for deciding to share your adventure of life with me. I'm endlessly grateful for you, and the romantic daydreams and blogs I can write to you, thou that does not yet exist husband.

Maybe I won't ever find you! Who knows. 

Maybe I wasn't meant to... 

But for now, here's my tiny list of things to expect. Nothing on here I wouldn't do tenfold for you. 

I will make mistakes, I'm flawed, and so will you. We will together. But let's always forgive. And most of all, let's try not to be the judge of sins, let's just choose forgiveness. It's too great a weight to bare. 

Just be my husband and share life with me. 

Damn, husband has a niiiiice ring to it. 

....get it? A ring? 

BAHAHHAHAHAHAH.

PS future husband. humor me and laugh at my jokes soooometimes. they're mainly intended to entertain myself, but a little smirk here and there would be fab. 

PSS if you think this is the list of how to love me and what to expect, why this is just the tip of the iceberg, and you just signed up for the whole Titanic when we said, "I do." 

ShoutOuts

First of all, I want to give a HUGE shoutout for the written language, because braces are tiny swords on my teeth and talking is like a game of Fruit Ninja.

Shoutout to the 13 yr. olds on YouTube who teach me how to do my make up. I mean, I can't even put eyeliner on the same on both eyes, and I'm expected to pay bills & adult. What. In. The. World. 

Shoutout to my belief in foolish miracles. 

Shoutout to screenshots for letting me hold on to gems of conversations that I can tuck away for a rainy day.

Shoutout to the people who hold on to the ones that make them FEEL all the feels. 

Shoutout to knowing my greatest, albeit irrational fear. ((missing out on love because someone withheld feelings. So in turn, I probably overcompensate and wear my heart on my sleeve. I just think it's a shame that people are together and not in love, and others are not together but in love.)) 

Shoutout to Google for making every dude look like a genius. I feel like if I'm talking to someone, Google should be off limits. Like I want to know how smart you are, how you see the world... Show me it through your eyes; not how fast you can type a question into Google, brah. 

Shoutout to people who never, ever lose the belief that the world is filled with good. Good people; good things. You become the statistic when you do give up. 

Shoutout to 24 hr red lipstick. You sly fox. Never again. 

Shoutout to those crossword puzzles that are like, "First Word Describes you," and then there's only one word. Tricksterrrr. 

Shoutout to seeing, "Paint the Town," pictures all lined up and seeing how vastly different they are. 

Shoutout to dreams. Do you ever just congratulate yourself for your dreams?! Ugh. You creative subconscious, you. You be killin' it. 

Shoutout to push-up bras. You magicians you. 

Shoutout to repeat buttons. You're welcome rap lyrics, I gotcha.... Memorized. 

Last.. And OBVI not least.. 

S

H

O

U

T

O

U

T

To you. ❤️

To The Men Who Hung The Night Sky

People have the power to weave their way into your life, for life. 

My Dad is my best friend. He is the one that gets me, the one that understands my overly sensitive, hyper emotional way of being. He understands my need for open pastures and my love of the sweet smell of Senior horse grain and calf milk replacement... It's weird, I get it. For us it's the norm. He taught me to keep my heels not too deep into the stirrup, and how to trailer a wild mustang.

I've put down childhood horses, held my baby calf as she passed away, named every last one of my pigs and chickens and goats and turkeys, and yeah, I slept with the tiniest, cutest potbelly piglet for part of my life; RIP Ollie. 

We've experienced life and death together. 

Life on the hobby farm, and life striving for this grandiose life we both saw.

I used to be his shadow. Wherever he was, I was. I admired this man like he must have hung the moon; he did, I know. 

He took me dress shopping. When we would fix fence, he'd dig the holes and fill them back in so I would feel like I was doing it. When we would build chicken coops, he'd give the nail a hard hit to get it started so I only had a little work. He made me smart, he made me driven, he made me a lot of...well, me.

Fast forward through these dreamy years of inseparable daddy-daughter bond, insightful conversations, yodeling and laughing our heads off on horse back rides and eating Beanie Weenies with a pocket knife, and here we are today. 

I'm 24. 

Yet I often feel like that frail, frilly-pink dressed little girl who needs her Dad; who looks up to her Dad like he hung the entire night sky. I need his advice, his strength, and his unwavering love for me.

I need his humor, most of all. I need his understanding of me before I tell him what's wrong. I need him to fix my car and fix my heart when they've been broken down. I need a kick in the ass when I'm being stubborn, and a five minute hug when I'm sad. 

I need my Dad, like a 9 year old girl needs her Dad. 

Most of all, I need my Dad happy. 

Back from the surgeries, the seizures, the postictal memory loss, the pain and confusion. Before the days of war, before the days of losing your son, before the days of the market crashing, before the days of vodka, and before the days of brain surgeries.

Because I'm tired of finding some blanket statement for how I feel. I'm tired of covering. I'm tired of living some double life. 

I want my Dad back.

I can't lose you and I'm tired of clawing to keep you alive. To keep your memory alive. 

The hardest part of this is learning to build a relationship with someone I don't know. Someone YOU don't know.

Because I'm hanging on to my 9 year old self, and you need my adult self to care for you. 

So Dad, I love you. 

I'll hold your hand like you held mine. I'll walk you down stairs when you're feeling weak. I'll tell you the same story fifty times like that story you used to tell me when we'd ride horses over and over and over again until you were blue in the face. I'll take you clothes shopping and not say a word when you look like a geek, just like you did when I picked the most outrageous dresses. 

I'm here for you, like you've been there for me. 

My, my how time changes things. 

Thanks for hanging the night sky for me, Dad; I'm using it to look into tonight and pray for your health and happiness.

To all the frilly-pink-dressed little girl's at heart reading this, I'm wishing health and happiness for your Dad too. Here's me hoping you can find that blind, childhood love you once possessed, and love with every fiber of your being. Make amends. Reach out. Love... 

To all the Dads who hung the night sky; thank you. The world wouldn't be as bold, daring, bright or loving without you; the world needs you, fathers. Your little girls need you. 

From your baby girl who still needs you in this big ol' city, 

TheWordMedic// Bean // HomeTeam // Your Bohemian Princezca 

I love you, Dad. 

What It's Like To Lose Someone Slowly

It's this excruciating pain of losing someone slowly that is unbearable. Although, losing someone in the blink of an eye is also torturous. If you're reading this and you know this feeling, I'm sorry. I wish I had words that could mend your soul and patch all the holes in your heart; I truly do. 

At first you claw to keep them alive. You dig your nails into the inseparable bond that surpasses all others. You don't want them to go away; you can't imagine a world where they don't exist. 

You fight for them so hard. You dig your heels in the carpet and stand firm on the belief everything will turn around.

You hold onto this for years; decades even. You fight, defend, weep, enable.. 

You cry over their hospital bed. You try to see between the doctor's words. You become used to clammy hands and keeping your cell phone by your bed like a gun in a holster. 

And then you come to grips with reality. 

The reality of a situation that is entirely outside of your control. That is outside the control of your prayers.

And then you deny this reality, again and again.

Until you've reached a point of exhaustion and acceptance, all at once. 

Sometimes people find a way to weave their way into your life, for a lifetime. Although you lost them slowly on our tiny planet Earth; your bond is unbreakable in the heavens.

Now dig your heels into the ground and don't lose yourself slowly. 

Do so much more than fight, defend and claw to keep yourself alive..... Live. 

Because, dear sweet pea, you deserve it. 

I. Don't. Want. This.

I am what I write. 

Not what I eat, although burritos do have the sexiest of curves. 

This world of blogging on my tiny space of the WWW allows me to toss my ideas to the wind; grandiose, petty, strong-headed, sexy, childish, dreamy, painful, private truths.

It's a double-edged sword really, because usually my brain is stuck on a dark, one-way street on the wrong side of south Chicago, and then I'm permanently posting things to the Internet, where everything is both true and temporary.... Err, maybe the opposite of that? 

My thoughts at 2:17am go something like this, Internet... 

Have you ever had something promising in your life, and then it collapsed on itself in under five seconds? A screeching halt into a wall at 65 mph. 

That's happened to me a time or two; it's a little bit like hell on wheels... Not the television series on Netflix, but while we're on the topic, DAYUM, I dig me some Cullen Bohannon. ((Go to Netflix now and watch Hell on Wheels if you haven't, take a little road trip to heaven, realize you haven't finished reading my blog, say hi to your grandparents, and then come back)) 

That whole enticing, tenuous, teetering on promising thing just ends. 

And not for any particular reason. Not a reason you can formulate in any coherent sentence or thought; it just does. 

You chalk it up to, "It wasn't meant to be." 

This, unsurprisingly, happens quite often. 

It wasn't meant to be that I could get one green light when I wake up late for work. It wasn't meant to be that I step on the 90% of the bathroom floor that's dry and not the part that will make my fresh socks soaked. It wasn't meant to be that I get the promotion. It wasn't meant to be that the guy that makes me feel the whole zoo, forget just butterflies, wants me back. It wasn't meant to be that my fly could have been zipped while talking to my boss's boss.....

Some things just aren't. meant. to. be. 

And while the sarcasm runs thick right now, there's one phrase I've strayed from using in my life, for the most part. 

"I don't want this."

Powerful, really. 

Have you ever stopped and thought about the meaning that one sentence holds? The transitions it can create, the opportunities it can unravel for you. 

I don't want this. 

Some people don't get the luxury of choosing what they do or don't want. 

We do, here. Right now.

You have the power to say, "I don't want this." 

That job that makes you feel like you have no purpose. That almost-relationship. That sweater your grandma gave you that's hanging in your closet..... Just kidding. Keep that. They have ugly sweater Christmas 5K's now! 

The point of my little tirade is this, sometimes something promising ends abruptly, out of your control. Sometimes things just aren't meant to be, flat out. But most things, sweet pea, you're in complete control over. 

So to the things you can say, "I don't want this," I deserve more. Please start saying it today.

I need you to come alive.

I need you to take that interest, and pursue it. That's where talent comes from. If you're willing to practice, you can do it. 

The world needs you to show up, and use that talent.

You have limitless possibility. 

  

Trusting Yourself- The Struggle Is So Real

Hi, sweet pea. 

I know you're going through life and at the very minimum of ten times a day you think to yourself, "Am I doing this right?" In life, in love, in what restaurant to eat at... Window or aisle seat? Full blown panic attack; heartbeat of a hummingbird. 

Decisions stress you out to the max. You don't want to make the wrong choice, make a wrong move, or the worst, let somebody down. 

There is always, without a doubt, a cloud of uncertainty filling your mind with fear. 

It's easy to trust other people now. It's easy to say, right now, I'm going to depend on your word. I'm going to let you in. But trusting yourself, that tiny inner voice... That's a whole different game. 

It's time to trust yourself.

It's time to listen to your gut feeling. To put aside that overly-analytical, pessimistic, worry-wart of an inner-voice. Slice up that voice box and throw it away. Have you ever thought about how many friends you would have if you talked to them how you talk to yourself?! 

I'd have zero. They would hate me with a seething passion; so why do we talk to ourselves like that?! 

I'm trying this new thing in life called, "trusting myself." Trusting myself enough to follow my dreams. I'm trusting that I have to fill my own cup before it can overflow to others. Trusting myself on what my tastebuds want to eat. 

Most of all, I trust myself to move past the failure of making a wrong decision. Choosing stupid Chipotle over Qdoba. Choosing the wrong path, the wrong job, the wrong partner, the wrong hobby.. 

Being trustful that my life will be filled with disappointments, mistakes, anxiety, and wrong decisions, but that I've let my passion lead me. I've listened to that tiny voice I so often hush, and I've followed my heart. 

And in the end, I trust that I will lead a grand life. Filled with extraordinary monotony and all the love a life can possibly hold.

I hope you too will choose to give yourself far more credit than you have been; listen to that tiny, whispering voice you've been hiding. 

I'm changing my middle name..

My middle name is Dawn. 

I have a tendency of searching for meaning in everything. Like, OMG, the guy at Starbucks totally put an "H," at the end of Sarah on my cup. What does that mean? 

...it means he wasn't an idiot and had two options to spell, "Sarah/Sara," ok?

I am queen of over analyzing; a curse and a blessing.

I've always been envious of those people who had this elaborate story to how they got their name. Better yet, a name that was passed down. My older sister got the middle name of, "Leigh," which was passed down for generations, and like many things I'm jealous of in my older sister, her middle name is certainly one of them.

My middle name is Dawn. Yes, I know it saves baby animals from oil spills and yes I know every rhyming word with it along with all the possible jingles you can use it in. It was my Mom's best friend's name for a big portion of her life; so there's not lost hope entirely for meaning. 

I think I've finally (after almost 24 yrs.) reached a conclusion on why my middle name will suffice. (These are the questions I mull over in my head for decades, people) 

Ah, the peace I've come to. 

"The night is always the darkest just before the Dawn." 

That's me! 

That's my middle name! 

In my life, I've gone through some dark stages, but more importantly, I hope to be the light. The dawn.

In my own life, in your life.

That annoying sunshine that creeps in when you're not ready but you love it anyways. 

Or, you know, that breath of fresh air after a long, heavy night of riding front row on the struggle bus. 

It's provided me with a constant reminder that no matter how hard life gets, the dawn will always come. We often focus so hard on weathering the storm that we don't know what to do when we get to the other side. But the dawn is coming, the ray of hope and sunshine will soon arrive. Keep holding on. 

So I guess I'm not changing my middle name, it's provided me enough meaning... For tonight. You can change yours though, Dawn suits you perfectly. ;) 

"The night is always darkest just before the Dawn, and I promise you, the Dawn is coming." 

Somewhere, Someone

I've always believed in this crazy notion since I was a child that somewhere in the world was someone doing anything I could think of. I used to come up with the craziest ideas, and tell myself with how many people there are in the world, it was bound to be true. I think it started out as an innocent daydream, "I bet there is someone out there that gets to swim all day like a mermaid and then snuggle with ten puppies at night," and then (as most things with myself do) just snowballed from there... 

It would always be the most outrageous, ridiculous ideas that probably nobody in the world was doing. 

But, I believed that somewhere, someone in the world was bound to make it happen. Too many people existed for it not to. The chances were just too high, it was inevitable. 

I brought this idea into adulthood. 

Both in the outlandish way of daydreaming about absurd things that someone, somewhere is doing, and also, on the more reasonable side, just believing that somewhere, someone is feeling the same way I am.

This crazy idea is one of the main reasons I write; one of the things that pushes me to share my life; my lessons. You know, it's not always easy to push a pencil to your heartbreak. To share your blonde moments. To toss your dreams to the wind and see what happens. 

I write because I still believe in this outlandish idea that somewhere, someone needs to know there is someone, somewhere going through the same thing. The same hurt. The same happiness. The same insecurities. All stemmed from a million different things, but in the end, the feeling is the same.

So to the one reading this, you're not alone.

You never were and you never will be. 

The chances are too high. 

The odds are too low. 

You're one in seven point three billion, but you are certainly not alone. 

Somewhere, someone is feeling the exact same way you are right now. 

Brownie-Batter-In-My-Eyelashes-Havoc

I'm guilty of a few things in life. One, hating every second of little kids stirring things. It's not endearing, it's brownie-batter-in-my-eyelashes-havoc. Two, finding midi rings to be my new favorite accessory. And finally, being an aching soul looking for fulfillment. (Last one's a bit of a doozy) 

I'm quietly, and not so calmly, watching my life evolve and transform into the bigger picture I hope for it one day to be. I'm being still, yet thrashing wildly against my overthink-everything natural inclinations. I mean, today I literally put finger tattoos from the cereal box on each finger; and enjoyed it......a lot. I narrated for them......a lot. I think I am failing at adulting, guys. 

I'm likely to grow hopelessly frustrated in the interim of my life unfolding in the direction I want it to go. 

I'm a big reflect-rrr. Meaning I reflect on things constantly. It makes for this weird struggle between analyzing the past and still pushing forward into the future. Balance is key; like most things in life, but especially this. 

I think many of us have a tendency to try to fill voids in the wrong ways. Romanticizing the past; holding on to memories we should leave as memories; and wanting to incessantly go back instead of forward.

I tend to make huge progress and forward motion, and then my demons come out to play.

So I say find a person you can spend time with who you can work through your demons with. Who you can be comfortable enough to not repress memories, but bring them into light and work through them, with that person providing peace and comfort. 

Okay, it doesn't have to be a human, dear cat lady. It can even be a giraffe- I don't know! Take a trip to the zoo, stroll through the monkey exhibit. Talk to a painted rock, I really don't care. 

Life is chaotic. Yet it's a series of slow, quiet, often unnoticed actions. 

Find where you can work through your night terror memories. Find a way to bring lessons from your past into your present moments, and continuously strive for your future ahead. 

I'm only asking you to play hacky sack while balancing a ten gallon jug of water on your head and reading Shakespearean sonnets all the while. I know, life is one big balancing act. 

You'll make it through, though. 

Slowly, quietly. 

In the most hectic ways, you will be still.

You will carefully calculate your actions and they will slowly unravel the grandiosity of your existence. 

That void you're reaching so desperately to fill will mend. 

And maybe you too, will despise the toddler chunking brownie batter on your face. 

Awe and Dread

Do you ever have those days where your hair is a mess? I don't mean one or two strands out of place. I mean you grew your hair out, dedicated time every day to care for it tenderly and now all of it has decided to revolt and betray you...

THAT kind of bad hair day.

Today was that day for me. (You're welcome everyone surrounding me for making your hair look AH-mazing.) 

Maybe it was the I-have-to-be-smart-since-I'm-ugly feeling kicking in that got me, but I started marveling at two unique human emotions- awe and dread. 

So this one is for you, sweet pea. To the one that's having a bad hair day. To the one that's giving up. To the one that's unfocused and barely hanging on by a thread. This is for you, to remind you that despite your atrocious hair, it is a marvel to be alive. 

Something spectacular comes from the recognition that we are alive; the recognition of our own existence fuels our self-esteem. We each want to feel like we serve as a person of value in a world of meaning. 

Yet often our world of meaning crumbles before our feet... And that's okay. 

You still serve a purpose; you serve a purpose only YOU can fulfill. You'd be trippin' if you were beginning to think otherwise! ((Yes, I'm an English Major and fully support the use of the word 'trippin' and the use of #hashtags)) 

Look, we're highly social and vastly intelligent creatures. We have the power to create the unknown.... CREATE. THE. UNKNOWN. Crazy, right?! 

So today be in awe of your existence. When you have a desire to live, but realize bad hair days are inevitable, it will make life a whole hell of a lot easier.

Start dreaming, okay?

The world needs that dream. 

Nobody else can understand your dream but you,

doesn't mean it's not worthy,

it means you are the only one worthy of fulfilling it. 

The Great Wall of Sarah... Facing my Invulnerability

I've grown stronger... 

I've also grown more sarcastic, less willing to trust and successfully built the Great Wall of Sarah that far supersedes the Great Wall of China around my heart. It's been a while in the making. 

So I've grown weaker. 

I've become invulnerable. 

We see pictures like this

and we assume that the more shots you can take without falling the stronger you are.

We're a population that numbs. We grow addicted to pills, alcohol, food.. Netflix, and we coast through life unable to feel.

And then one day tragedy or heartbreak ensues and it slams you against a wall, or more accurately a mirror, and you're forced to either FEEL, or find coping mechanisms like constructing a barbed wire fence around your heart and taking everything everyone says with a grain of salt.

At times, I choose the latter. 

I'm invulnerable, and I'd be willing to bet you are too.

I don't want to cope. I want to feel, but to put myself in a position to feel the aching of a broken heart again would be stupid! Right? 

It's easier to live in disappointment than it is to FEEL disappointed. Job interview? Just go ahead and tell yourself you didn't get it so you never get your hopes up. That's easier than dealing with the final blow when you get an e-mail telling you they chose another candidate. 

I've found myself doing this in more than one avenue of life. With relationships, job expectations, etc. I don't want to fully open up to others because there's the inevitable chance of getting hurt. I know what you're thinking.. "Been there, done that." I feel you. I've been hurt and hurt others too. I don't want to go down that road. 

But the silly truth about life is that we can't selectively choose which emotions we feel; come one, come all. 

I say be vulnerable. 

Let yourself be disappointed. 

Let yourself get slapped against a mirror of reflection after an excruciating heartbreak.

Let yourself grow and learn.

Vulnerability is the beginning of hope. Of love. Of growth and change. 

Don't be afraid to tear down your Great Wall and be vulnerable. 

Two Types of People

I'm a bad listener; there I've said it. My mind goes a million miles a minute and I often don't respond to what was previously said. I'm working on it. (What'd you just say?) 

Similar to most things in life, listening skills can only be acquired through both practice and a good balance. You have to learn how to fully take in everything the other person is saying while having the knack to think ahead enough to respond so you don't look like a fool when they finish and you need ten seconds to just..process. 

I'm trying to learn balance in my home, work and college life right now. It's a real doozy, let me tell ya! 

Here are some things I do to balance out my life; sometimes there are just two types of people inside one brain 

1. Sometimes I eat Twizzlers, sometimes I eat Red Vines. 

2. Sometimes I read National Geographic and other times I divulge in Cosmo magazine. Both blow my mind, no pun intended. 

3. Sometimes I return my cart and sometimes I jack it up on a curb.

4. Sometimes I listen to voicemails and sometimes I send a text saying, "Text me everything you just said in that voicemail."

 

5. Sometimes I slow down at yellow lights and sometimes I pretend I'm a Nascar driver.

6. Sometimes I bump rock music at 3am in a quiet neighborhood, other times I'm the irate sleeping angel who wants to kill aforementioned person bumping loud music at 3am in said quiet neighborhood.

 

7. Sometimes I write things down and other times I think, "Oh I will definitely remember this password I just made up that has no relevant significance to my life at all and my 74 item grocery list." 

8. Sometimes I do my homework well before the due date, sometimes I wait until 45 minutes before the due date.

9. Sometimes I wear two white socks, sometimes.... Ahh, who am I kidding. I don't even own two, white, matching socks. 

10. Sometimes I have gas all week, sometimes I run on 0 miles to empty until payday and look like a man who just got out of jail kissing the concrete sidewalk every time I arrive at my destination. 

11. Sometimes I eat bread, other times my idea of flirting is, "So do you like bread?" 

12. Sometimes I wear pajama pants, sometimes I don't. 

13. Sometimes I listen to others, other times I want to toss a Xanax in their mouth while they're talking and take a nap. 

14. Sometimes I finish my work, other times I blog to procrastinate! ;) 

15. Sometimes I Pinterest for hours, other times I order large pizzas for myself. (usually in that order) 

16. Sometimes I respond to text messages, other times I read them and get distracted by eight hundred other things... Like other people's text messages. 

15. Sometimes I exude myself in a professional and intelligent manner, other times I am sarcastic and probably don't mean 98% of what comes out of my mouth. 

My hope, dear internet friends, is that you find meaningful balance in your life as well. 

An Open Letter to Mel Robbins

Mel; my girl. (I almost pulled the emergency brake there and called you Mrs. Robbins, luckily I typed this intro within five seconds) I watched your TEDTalk; and I must tell you..

I'm one in 400 trillion.

I have an insatiable craving to inspire change, but you know what? You're right. ((stop and bask in that statement, we all love hearing we're right; just admit it)) People are waiting to feel like it.... I'M waiting to feel like it. To feel like not hitting snooze, feel like losing this back fat I have building up, feel like writing a five year plan or better yet this paper that's due; to feel like doing that damn thing I don't want to do. It's yet to hit me.

I watch people go down rabbit holes and never come back; so logic would assume I know better by now! I watched my Dad try to find the answer to his problems at the bottom of a bottle of vodka. It didn't ruin his health, but it sure wrecked his life.

I know better, and yet I find myself not doing that damn thing that needs done. We all do.

I hesitate. I do take, "no" for an answer. I hide in the shadow of others. I keep ideas in my mind until they are flimsy and feeble. But; I do have life changing ideas. The people that read this do, too.

I'm working on the whole, "getting said life altering ideas into... Life" thing.

Blogging is this incredible platform that has allowed me to reach people I otherwise would never have known. On the flip side, and more importantly, it has allowed people to reach me I otherwise would never have met.

People like us devote all our time, energy and thoughts to motivating others, that we forget the thing that fuels us..... Others.

You would never have a radio talk show or have written a book translated in other languages or have reached me, if it weren't for, well, people like me. It's kind of like how Amy Schumer wouldn't have had that flawless smoky eye if it weren't for her make up artist being on point; and the publicity for the make up artist? Where would they be without the hilarious, intelligent Amy?!

What's the point of my little tirade? (as I'm sure at this point you're wondering, and my blog is beginning to sound like an Emmy speech thanking all the loyal fans and supporters) My point is this: We all need to do the damn thing, and we need support to do so. So I guess I'm thanking you for telling me to get up tomorrow 30 minutes early and rip the sheets off me and just rise and grind. I'll let you know how that goes..

I can't bake a perfect cake or twerk or have any sort of any form in any sport, but I can write....Or try.

So here's me turning the tables; instead of you asking what you can do to inspire change and help me reach my goal, what can I do? For me and for you. You have the luxury of seeing society from a multitude of angles, and I have this little corner of the internet to share my ideas.

You tell people to step outside their comfort zone, get outside their own head, and jump into the great unknown essentially..

And that's grand.

I tell people that all the time. Mostly, I look myself in the foggy bathroom mirror after my self-deprecating shower and tell myself those things. (side note; bathroom lighting should really be more of a dim, flickering candle on the other side of the curtain) We're imperfect as people. We're filled with flaws and quirks and if we talked to others how we talk to ourselves we would have no friends. But we need support, nonetheless.

So tell me this, Mel.. Tell me while I'm not on autopilot. What was your greatest failure? I don't mean you went from one awesome career to the next, I mean down in the trenches of a bad decision and you had to dig yourself out with a rusty baby spoon.

You know what they say, "Curiosity kills the cat, but satisfaction brings it back." I want to know because we've all been there, and to trust what you have to say I need to know you care. I don't need to know you care about ME;  I need to know you care about your life as a pivotal one in history and the beginning of any great success begins with a failure.

They say dress for the job you want, and while I'd probably rather be naked on a yacht destroying my liver, I think from here on out I'll go with, "Create the job you want; just do the damn thing." So I'm writing this open letter to both drive traffic to your TedTalk (https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Lp7E973zozc) because it's one for the books, and satisfy my own selfish need of knowing the beginning of your success..... Not in a tied-neatly-with-a-bow-in-an-interview format. To get the answers to my questions and stir up some thought in others in regards to all your brilliant ideas.

Moreover; I'm writing this thanking you for the inspiration. For sparking my curiosity. For giving me the power of the five second rule before my mind pulls the emergency brake and backs out. For giving my readers something to chew on overnight and a gem of wisdom to forward on to them.

Thanks, girl of my own heart. Now excuse me while I go do the damn thing I've been not feeling like. Time to act on my being 1 in 400 trillion. You too, all eyes across this page.