Month: January 2017

Your Purpose Does Not Inform You of Your Destination

This is Lesson #3 of the Year 25 series. When I continued to ask the question, “When is it going to happen for me?” I grew increasingly restless. Fall to the floor praying to God-out for a run-two cups of coffee-and back on the floor again-restless. “When is it going to happen for me?” Where am I going? What is my purpose? Do I even have a purpose? All of the begging and pleading for direction had me acting hella extra. One night, I was overcome with these doubts. I thought that perhaps I should quit writing. I thought that maybe I’m not meant to have a blog and that I should move on to something else, maybe just focusing on being a good career girl. I could do that. I could be good at that. I told myself, “Nothing has ever happened with your blog. No one really reads it, just let it go.” I thought if I just worried about my day job, I wouldn’t have this problem. But something inside me said, “NAH.” …

The Women’s March and the Power of Intention

Within my bubble of being recognized as male in society, receiving treatment as a male and otherwise always being told I’m entitled to career success and good pay as a male (whether it be conscious commentary or subconscious expectations), I often forget that as a queer feminist who recognizes the incredible women who’ve inspired me, that there are people who literally find the title of “Women’s March” offensive. Fucking trash. I forgot that people have an issue with the idea of an all-inclusive “Women’s March.” That the word “Woman” causes controversy. That a woman existing somehow makes people uncomfortable. But you know who doesn’t forget this? Women. Women. Women. Women’s Rights are Human Rights. Duh. But even my male privilege had me forgetting that people have an issue seeing this. As I learned about the Women’s March on Washington, I knew I had to be there. I will admit I was a bit leery on whether it would be a predominantly entitled white-feminism event, but the more I read about it and learned how inclusive the …

4 Tips on How to Stop Stalking Your Ex on Instagram

Hey boo hey. We have all been there, creepin’ on the person who’s no longer a part of your life, trying to see how they’re doing without ya. It’s addicting. It can become a sick game really. Especially when the other person is posting clues for you to come across. And then you react by posting something passive-aggressive. And then it’s just a mess, honey. Now, my most unhealthy relationships have never been with a boyfriend (because I haven’t exactly been in a relationship oops lmao) but hey, ya live and ya learn. The example I’ll be using to show you how I learned to stop stalking is not somebody I dated but most certainly had an intense relationship with, but that’s not important this is about the LESSONS below. Anyhoo, here are 4 tips on how to stop the stalking behavior. 1. You have to want to stop First step is most important because if you don’t want to stop then you won’t. Duh. So let’s start there. Typically it takes seeing something quite painful or …

I Turned a Man Into the Devil In Order to Rebuke Him

I turned a man into the devil in order to rebuke him. We did the dance. But never kissed. I didn’t want to lose him. *** [Year 24] I need you to hear me. Why can’t you see me? Don’t I deserve more precedence than this? The hardest part about all of this is that you live three thousand miles away. I lose all focus on my daily tasks; my mind is filled with thoughts of you, my dear. I am sick with fever, I got ass for days but today I don’t feel like it’s enough. I want to be enough for you. Am I enough for you? Tell me I’m the one. I need to hear it. You tell me why you love me but it’s not enough. My best friend thinks it’s cute but he’s the opposite of me: a hopeless romantic. I don’t trust him on this but I appreciate his fondness for your words because I know he cares. And he knows I care about you. I want you to …

I Have Always Known Who I Am but I Didn’t Know I Was Enough

Photos by Daniela Prieto.  [Year 24] Believing you are enough is really fucking hard. If a person calls me their soul mate, I’ll be enough, I thought. If I move to New York City, I’ll be enough.  If I’m amazing at my job, I’ll be enough. If I have many friends, I’ll be enough. These are the thoughts that became my way of living. And I was seemingly quite good at accomplishing each of these feats of gaining validation…of feeling enough. But as I looked closer, the more I realized, this had everything to do with me and nothing to do with what I thought defined me. The person I called soul mate didn’t know how to love the things about me I was insecure about (my writing, how I dressed, my body). I moved to New York City but felt so isolated because I didn’t actually think I deserved to be here.  Getting validation at a job doesn’t mean anything in the long-run if your job isn’t aligned with who you are. When I …