"She was delightfully chaotic; A beautiful mess"

live for tomorrow and the coming of today

[shelaughedwith0utfear]

Unrecognizable: A Year of Metamorphosis

Have you ever just sat and thought about the oddity that is living? How every day billions of people inhabit this earth. Breathing. Walking. Learning. Working. Some making mistakes. Some running from demons. Some falling in love. Some suffering. How we all wake up in the morning and go to sleep at night. How time passes for all of us whether we want it to or not. It’s funny, thinking about living and what it means to inhabit this earth. How the sun will set and rise whether you are making use of your existence or not. How the ending of one day and the beginning of another can signal the start of a new year, a fresh start, a blank slate, as if all your struggles, obstacles, heartaches, victories, accomplishments, triumphs that existed in the past year can be left behind if you choose to forget them. For me, while I’d like to believe in the cliche idea of starting over when the date changes, I don’t think it’s that simple, and sometimes I think it’s a flawed mentality to have.

I’m a firm believer in the notion that everything happens for a reason. I’ve seen this mentality come to fruition time and again in my own life and lives of people I love and know well. Therefore, I like to think that every struggle, obstacle, heartache, victory, failure, accomplishment, and triumph that has happened to me over my years here on earth was meant to happen at the time that it happened. Sure, it might have made my life hell. Sure, it might not have been the most enjoyable experience, but it was there and it happened for a reason. These experiences, whether bad or good, occurred and were made possible in order to teach me something, transform me in some way, make me conscious of something, and overall just to add substance to my journey here on earth. They’ve shaped me. They’ve created my personality, contributed to my idiosyncrasies, sculpted my character, and ultimately have come together to create the person I am today. I should be grateful for them, whether ugly or beautiful, they’ve made me the person I am. These moments, both trying and celebratory are what make me human. Which is why I would never choose to erase them when the clock strikes midnight. I would never want to leave them behind in the dust of the old year. Because forgetting them, wishing them away, pretending like they never happened, would be me trying to mask my humanness. Trying to hide the things that made me the person who walked around on this earth with all the others who shared similar experiences. Which is why I welcome them along with me on my journey into the new year. Because without them, I’d be lost and broken.

This year, has been one of complete and utter transformation. Graduating college, finding a passion for bodybuilding, competing in my first physique competition, taking on a new lifestyle in terms of training and nutrition, and landing my first job have transformed me into someone I never thought I could be. This isn’t to say my year was filled with nothing but happiness. With accomplishments there always comes sacrifice. I’ve lost friends who don’t understand my hobbies, lost relationships with people I love for the same reasons. I’ve questioned my path in life and struggled for a while with what I wanted to pursue. I’ve been at war with my body to push it to the absolute breaking point and kept pushing after it snapped. I’ve been the heaviest I’ve ever been and the leanest I’ve ever been. I traded in my running shoes for a sparkly bikini and a pair of heels. But I’ve also grown in ways one cannot see from the outside. In the end, in 2016 I found myself.

From as far back as I can remember I never truly was the best at anything. I dabbled in sports and extracurriculars, but I always had to work harder than most to be mediocre. The fact was I killed myself to try and be the best at things that I just wasn’t passionate about. It wasn’t until I found bodybuilding and the lifestyle that comes with it that I truly realized what it meant to be passionate about something. Bodybuilding and competing as given me so much more than just a physique. It’s taught me how much I am capable of. How much I can endure. It’s made me realize who I am and what I value. It’s made me come to terms with the fact that I’m a different breed. Someone who demands excellence of themselves and finds joy in pushing their mind and body beyond its limits. It’s taught me discipline and it’s given me a confidence that I never ever thought I could have. For the first time I was unapologetically me. I didn’t care what people thought of me. Their opinion was white noise and I had a focus that I never experienced before. I stepped on stage and transformed into the best version of myself and I loved who that person was. I was but by the bug and I’m never going back.

I’m leaving 2016 stronger than I’ve ever been. Whether we are talking physical, mental, or emotional strength, I’ve developed each one to its utmost potential. I’ve surrounded myself with people who bring me joy, support me in every way, and love me for who I am and all my idiosyncrasies. I’ve distanced myself from those who don’t understand and don’t want to understand. Who’s negativity only hindered my progress. Who’s doubt in me or my actions caused nothing but unhappiness in my life. I’m entering 2017 with goals and dreams bigger than I ever imagined and for the first time in my life they don’t seem unattainable. I’m entering 2017 with mental clarity, happiness, excitement, and strength. I’m entering 2017 being unapologetically myself.

So tonight, when the date changes and the new year has begun, I’ll still be the same person I was the minute before. I’ll still have the experiences of the year that just passed. I’ll still be made of the emotions and feelings of things that happened throughout the 364 days that preceded this one. I won’t choose to wipe my slate clean or purchase a new book for my life because my slate is dirtied with people, events, and happenings of a year that made me into the woman I am proud to be. The book of my life is filled with pages that contain words, drawings, and scribbles of events that define and shape my life. Instead, I’ll embrace the dirtiness of my slate and the cluttered mess that is the book I have been writing in for the past year and the year before that. Because these years that have passed are made up of all the moments that make me human and to be human is to be beautiful.

Happy New Year everyone and please embrace your beautiful humanness.

[shelaughedwith0utfear]

The Rise and The Fall: My Inconvenient Truth

What you are about to read is the hardest thing I have ever had to write. What you are about to read is the rawest I have ever been. What you are about to read is something I never thought I would say. What you are about to read is my reality. No, I’m not looking for pity. No I am not complaining or throwing my own pity party. This is just me, getting my thoughts on paper, trying to make sense of my life, the real life, that I have been catapulted into. So, please read with good intentions and the knowledge that I am not asking for anything but open ears and kind hearts.

When I was I always dreamed of the days when I would be a real adult. The days where I would dress up for my real job, drink my coffee from my real mug, and buy pretty things with my real money. I dreamed of making it big in the real world. I mean, don’t we all? No one grows up dreaming about graduating college and being unemployed. However, I was not prepared for what would become of my “real” life years and years later. 

From as far back as I can remember, I was always seen as a certain type of person. The go-getter, the dreamer, the success story. Whether it was in sports and fitness, conquering my battle with weight gain and loss or making it big on my high school field hockey team in such a short amount of time which lead to extreme success in cross country; or academic success, receiving passing scores on all my AP exams, being accepted into one of the most competitive state schools as an Early Decision candidate, or going on to graduate with high honors and enormous praise from professors; or just overall character success in which I was always known for my extreme dedication, kind heart, and solid values. Whatever realm it was, I was always held to this standard, this standard to be the best, to be the success story, to be the one making everyone proud. Now, I am not saying I took these expectations with a heavy heart, as I began to expect the same success from myself as the outside world expected of me. However, when much of your identity is made up of success and pride, you never expect to end up a failure, which is exactly the position I find myself to be in right now. 

This May, I graduated college Magna Cum Laude with the highest hopes from my family and professors that I would go on to be a life-changing teacher. However, while I didn’t want to admit it right away, my passion for education and the fire that it had once, for a short while, ignited within me, was no where to be found. After a draining yet realistic student teaching experience, coupled with a newfound interest and love for weight training and nutrition, I knew deep down that I had no intention or desire to teach. I spend the weeks following graduation in a state of shock and denial. To me, I had wasted 4 years of my life and thousands of dollars that neither my parents, nor I, could afford to pay back without me acquiring a job with a decent salary. 

While my classmates updated our former professors on interviews and contract signings, I sat idly by waiting for a job that would never come. I neglected applying for teaching jobs because the thought entering into the profession made me queasy. I did not look for alternatives because I had no idea what else I could possibly do. For the past 4 years I thought I was going to be a teacher. For the past 4 years I thought my oath was set in the hardest of concrete stone. For the past 4 years I anticipated graduating and continuing on being “the success” that I had always been. Well, those 4 years were gone, and there I sat on my living room coach, basking in the aftermath of my failures.  

So I sat, quietly, utterly consumed with the fact that I was a college graduate with loans coming due and no plan for employment. I sat through June and July applying for a job here or there, but always finding an excuse of why I shouldn’t pursue it. I say through August as I scrolled through Facebook and Instagram learning of my classmates job findings and career successes. I sat through family dinners as my grandparents and relatives checked in on my job hunt. I saw and refused to answer emails from professors with information on the newest teacher vacancy that I would perfectly be able to fill. I sat and sat and still I sit because to be honest, I am still lost. Everyday I wonder what the future holds. Everyday I wonder what I am going to do with my life. Everyday I question how I fell so hard and fast from being “the success” to the anything but. 

When I was a little girl I never dreamed of being a failure, and while people will say I am being too hard on myself, while people will remind me that I have so much to offer, while people will say that something will come, and while everyone will disagree with the strong and harsh label of “a failure”. That is what I feel I am right now. I feel like I let my parents down who took out loans and paid for me to go to the best teaching college in the state because I swore that was what I wanted to do. I feel like I let my professors down who nominated me for student teaching awards and invested their time and energy into someone they thought would go on to be another successful TCNJ alumnus educator. I feel like I let myself down, as I am my own biggest critic and expect success and the best from myself. 

When I was a little girl I dreamed of being a teacher, and I am here to tell you that dreams change, passions fade and are re-manifested, goals dissipate and are reworked, and that’s okay. But right now, as my colleagues are getting ready to start their “real” lives, I still sit idly waiting for a sign, a light bulb, a hammer over the head to tell me what I should do next. People can tell me I am lazy or selfish or wishing success upon myself. People can tell me I need to work for what I want. People can say whatever, think whatever they please, but while I feel like a failure I know one thing for sure: Life is too short. 

Too short to waste doing anything that doesn’t make you feel alive. Too short to spend waiting for or wishing for the time to do what you love. Too short to be anything but happy, and while I am not completely satisfied with where I am at right now, and while I do feel like somewhat of a failure, I’m making my choice. 

I’m choosing not to torture myself doing something that not longer ignites a fire within me, and dealing with the consequences. I am choosing my own mental health and happiness, and I have to believe that someday, hopefully soon, things will work out how they are supposed to. Something bigger than myself has a larger plan for me, and until that is revealed, I have to just keep believing that I am making the right choices for me, whether that makes me a failure or not.  

[shelaughedwith0utfear]

Miles To Go Before We Can Sleep

20 weeks. 20 weeks to accomplish something I never imagined I would ever consider doing in my wildest dreams let alone in my own reality.137 days to transform in more ways than one . Roughly 3312 hours and approximately 198,720 minutes to push myself, my body, to my absolute limits. 20 weeks to do things that people would deem insane. 20 weeks seems like a long time. 20 weeks is no time at all. 

43 weeks ago. 43 weeks ago I made a change that has forever impacted my life. 43 weeks ago I made a choice that  introduced me to my ultimate passions. 43 weeks ago I was a girl on the brink of self-destruction, again. 43 weeks ago I met someone I didn’t know I needed. 43 weeks ago I started something that I believed would have an end date. 43 weeks ago, while I didn’t yet know it, I began a journey that turned into a lifestyle. 43 weeks seems like a long time. 43 weeks is no time at all. 

If you were to ask me who I was 43 weeks ago and return today inquiring the same thing, the answers would be vastly different. 10 months ago, I would have answered that I was a runner. I was known throughout my town as the girl who ran. Whether pouring rain, snow, ice, debilitating wind, or the less frequent picture-perfect weather, every afternoon you could find me running. Every summer morning I woke up with the sun to beat the Jersey summer heat and humidity and ran the boardwalk. Every winter, I put layer upon layer of clothing on, equipped with gloves and an ear-warmer and prayed I wouldn’t freeze for my run around my college campus or slip on ice patches near my house. I ran when I was upset. I ran when I was happy. I ran when I wanted to do anything but. I ran through countless pulls, minor injuries, and fatigue. I was a runner. That was how I identified myself, and if I didn’t run it felt as if I was letting someone down, like I was letting myself down. 

I lived like this for 6 years. 72 months. 312 weeks. During this time, I experienced weight loss, disordered eating, purposeful weight gain, recovery and satiety with my weight and life, and then unexplained weight gain. By the end of these 6 years, my legs were screaming, but I wouldn’t listen. My mind was slowly reacquainting itself with its disordered ways of eating and thinking, tricking my eyes as I looked in the mirror and saw nothing but a whale. I was a woman repossessed, until something inside me told me I needed to make a change. Something, of which now I can only attribute to fate, made me wake up and realize that I was destroying myself from the inside out. Whether it was fate or just coincidence, I’ll never know. Regardless of the circumstance, this change will forever be one of the defining moments of my life. This leap of faith, this step outside of my comfort zone, introduced me to my true passion, the thing that sets my heart on fire, something I believe my purpose to be in life. I may not be “the runner” anymore, but I am something better. 

43 weeks ago I found myself. When I traded in my running shoes for my lifting gloves, it was as if the person I truly was meant to be in this world emerged. Like a butterfly breaking free from its cocoon, I was introduced to this entirely new and exciting fitness world. 43 weeks ago, when I stopped focusing on a number, the number of calories in my food, the number on the scale, the size of my clothing, and instead focused on my nutrition, the types of foods I was eating, the strength I was feeling during my workouts, the confidence I was gaining, I realized how happy I could truly be. 43 weeks ago I was a person that I no longer identify with. That girl is no longer there, but the girl who replaced her is far superior. 

Throughout these 43 weeks, I have pushed myself outside of my comfort zone. I have learned that you truly have to do things you’ve never done in order to get results that you’ve never gotten before. I gave up control that I thought I would hold on to forever. I gained weight that I never imagined I would, purposefully of course. I became uncomfortable more times than I can count, I’ve battled degrading voices in my head telling me to disobey my coach, I’ve reached my absolute mental breaking point yet kept it together. And just when I was about ready to give up, that is when it all paid off. That was when I realized how badly I really wanted this. That was when I fought with every inch of my being for my passion.

This past week, I began an even newer and, what will prove to be a, tougher fitness journey. All the weight gain, all the restriction of cardio, and all the blood, sweat, and tears led up to this moment. The moment that I decided I was going to start prepping for my first bodybuilding bikini competition. I had watched all the vlogs of countless YouTubers and finally found people that just “got it”. That understood my love for the science behind training and nutrition. That understood my passion for lifting and physique transformation, and were actually doing something with that passion. I realized everything they did in preparation for a “prep” were things I was already doing without a competition in mind. Whether it be their inspirational youtube videos or the natural competitor in me, it felt like this sport was just calling my name. 

Of course I cannot end this blog without mentioning my amazing coach. A woman who was once just my zumba instructor, emerged into my personal trainer and nutritionist, and I am now blessed to call her my biggest inspiration and great friend. She is more than just a coach to me. She has been there with me through it all. Through all the anxiety of gaining weight, through all the complaints of cutting cardio, through all my emotional ups and downs. Through everything. 43 weeks ago I met someone who I never knew would change my life forever and introduce me to my purpose and for that, I am so eternally grateful that I cannot even put it into words. I would never have come to this decision, have emerged into this greater version of myself if it weren’t for her. So, while I am nervous for the tough work ahead, I know that I have the best possible support system to help coach and guide me and to make me keep going when all I want to do is give up. She one of my greatest blessings and I love her for it. 

43 weeks. 43 weeks filled with tears, sweat, and dedication all leading up until this point, and it is only the beginning. I have found something that I love. A place where I can focus on myself, a lifestyle that I embody in every sense of the word. And it is only going to push me further from here on out. Prep starts now. Transformation starts now. From this point forward I am a bikini competitor, something I never in a million years would ever think I would say. But, I truly believe this is who I am, this was meant to find me, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Follow my 20 week journey (which will soon be on Youtube) and watch me as I journey to the stage. 

[shelaughedwith0utfear]

The Most Uninteresting Thing About Me: A Journey to Self-Love and Body Positivity

I must admit, I’m not the most interesting person. I’ve never done anything extraordinary like traveled to a third-world country to help those less fortunate than I, though it is on my bucket list. I’ve never broken a record or completed a daring, life-risking feat. I am, for all intents and purposes, uninteresting. However, out of all the unexciting, plain things about me, my body will always be the most uninteresting thing about me. 

I must admit, for years I thought my body was and would always be the most interesting thing about me. I looked in the mirror and analyzed every curve, studied every protrusion and imperfection, and obsessed over every aspect of my face, stomach, legs, arms, chest that were not up to “my standards”. When I wasn’t criticizing my appearance, I was “working” to perfect it. While I always hated math, counting calories became a task I quickly mastered. Every food had a number, each number determined if I would succeed for the day in working towards my goal of my “perfect physique”. While I was always an athlete, running never came easily to me, yet soon became a way of life. Each mile a number of calories burned, each week had a specific mileage goal that would indicate my dedication to this dream body I was so hyper-focused on achieving. Yet, as I pushed myself to my ultimate limits, to obtain a body I thought would define me, that would show my strength, dedication, perseverance, and self-discipline, I never once realized that I was destroying the body I was working so hard to change, in the process. 

As the number on the scale went down, the mileage went up. As the bones began to become visible, my awareness of how I truly looked began to disappear. As I started to “see” the body that met my “expectations”, I was confused as to why no one else was “seeing” my achievements. After what seemed like years, I slowly put the weight back on, against my will, and even more slowly regained a healthy mental state. A couple years passed and soon my weight and my body began to become an issue yet again. While I was still running like a maniac, the results and the body I had been maintaining were slipping from my grasp. As I began to decrease my calories, the only way I knew to lose weight, the number on the scale was only increasing. I knew it was time for a change. 

Through what I can only deem as fate or destiny, I found a woman who changed my entire outlook on fitness, food, life, and, most importantly, my body. No longer did I want to be “skinny”, I wanted to be toned, muscular, I wanted to be fit. While I previously had sworn off weight lifting, for fear of becoming “too manly looking”, it soon became my newest obsession, and with it came a new “perfect” body that I wanted to achieve. Each HIIT session in the treadmill meant a decrease in body fat percentage. Each increase in weight for an exercise signified me being closer to my new “dream body”. However, it was when I started to plateau and stopped progressing that my trainer knew it was time to take things to the next level, which brings me to where I am today. 

For the past 2-3 months I have drastically changed my training and nutrition in a way that has pushed me physically and mentally in ways I could have never imagined possible. My cardio, (i.e. running), is a distant memory and my days of eating low carb have been gone for months. I am the heaviest weight that I have been since high school, but I am also the strongest, both physically and mentally, that I have been in my entire life, and while I wish I could say I am the most content with my body that I have ever been, this would be far from the truth. I look in the mirror and I am not exactly thrilled with some of the things I see. I look back at old pictures from a few short months ago and wish I appreciated how I looked then. I see the number on the scale increase and knowing that this is considered “progress” have to deal with the self-depreciating thoughts that come along with it. 

Yet, I do believe I am at the healthiest mental state that I have ever been in my entire life. I know that my body is a work in progress. I know that this body is only temporary. That this is all part of a larger process. That this will not be forever. But, more importantly, I’ve come to realize, recently, that while I am less than satisfied with how I look, in the grand scheme of things, it is of little importance. That the people I surround myself with, my friends, family, and people who love me don’t look at me and see my body as the most important thing. That they probably don’t even think about it, and it is only me who draws unnecessary attention to it. I’ve come to realize, that my body is and will always be the most uninteresting thing about me. 

So remember this when you are scrutinizing your own body. When you feel uncomfortable in your own skin. When you feel self-conscious about how you look. When you wish you had a skinnier body, a more toned body, a better, prettier, more “aesthetically pleasing” body. When you don’t want to go out with friends, spend time with family, or show yourself in public because to you, your body and how it looks is the most important, most interesting thing about you right now, remember that this is the furthest thing from the truth. Your body is and will always be the most uninteresting thing about you. Your friends don’t want to spend time with you because you have a particular physique. Your family doesn’t love you because of what you look like on the outside. And believe me, the public has a lot of other things to worry about than how a stranger looks in their jeans. Your body is the least interesting thing about you. But, your heart, your soul, your sense of humor, your personality, that is what sets you apart from the rest of the world. That is what makes you unique. That is what makes you, you. 

So, in honor of National Eating Disorders Awareness week, the next time you look in the mirror and start having negative thoughts, the next time you want to pass up a dinner with friends, a get together with family, or just a trip to the mall because you are uncomfortable in your own body, try to remind yourself that your physical body is a trivial matter compared to the unique and amazing qualities you possess that cannot be physically seen. In the end, your body is the most uninteresting thing about you, and it always will be. 

[shelaughedwith0utfear]

365 Chances to Live

I watched it happen. I watched the seconds tick down, one by one, from 60 to 0. I watched the ball drop into a crowd of hundreds of thousands of people. I watched the confetti float down, gracefully, until reaching heads, hands, and finally landing peacefully on the street. I watched the date on my phone change from December 31st to January 1st. I watched the year change from 2015 to 2016. I watched it all. I watched the new year begin and I welcomed it, but I am here to tell you that while it may be a “new year”, I am the same me, and you are too, and that’s okay.

I’ve never been one for New Year’s Resolutions. I can remember in elementary school our teachers actually forcing us to write essays or journal entries about our “New Year’s Resolutions”. Some actually had us hang them up around the room and there they stayed throughout the entire year, to serve as a constant reminder of our “goals”, making us question whether we were going to achieve them or not. I can remember struggling with finding something to write about, which for anyone who knows me is saying something because I frequently have trouble reigning in my writing, but these prompts never came easily to me. I never knew why. It wasn’t that I wasn’t an ambitious person. If anything I was often considered too driven. It wasn’t that I didn’t have goals, for I often I had too many to count. I didn’t know, at the time, what it was that made this writing task and act of self reflection so difficult for me, just that I always ended up writing about something cliche and superficial like “I will stop fighting so much with my brother” (never happened) or “I want to eat healthier” (again, seldom happened). But, looking back now, I realize that the reason I loathed these assignments, the reason it was like pulling teeth to find a “resolution” that I would verbally commit to uphold throughout the rest of the year, was because I really didn’t see anything in myself that needed to be “resolved”. I remember thinking, “I’m a good kid. I get good grades. I have hobbies. I have friends. I rarely get in trouble. I think I am a pretty decent human being, why do I have to put myself down in order to ‘better myself’ in this ‘new year’?” Looking back now, I realize that while I thought I was looking at the New Year entirely wrong, I was actually looking at it in the healthiest and most beneficial way possible.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I was far from a perfect child. I had flaws, and still do. I had bad habits, many I have yet to break. I did things I wasn’t proud of, and still do. There were plenty of things that could have been seen as needing “resolving”. But when I think of the word “resolution”, I immediately think of the words “problem” or “conflict”, two words that are very negative, especially when referencing oneself. Thinking on it now, after seeing a beautiful quote posted on a popular instagram account, I realize just how flawed this concept of “New Year’s Resolutions” actually is. I was definitely NOT a problem. Did I do things I wish I didn’t this past year? You bet. Did I have regrets? Absolutely. Did I have sad memories? Yup! But none of those things turned my life into something that would be considered a “problem” in need of “resolving”. For every struggle, every tear shed, every conflict I encountered, every failure I experienced, led me to a subsequent triumph, ear-to-ear smile, and overwhelmingly positive achievement or life experience that I ultimately learned something from. It led to me to people that I literally believe were angels sent to guide me to a better and happier lifestyle. They pushed me to the point of giving up on myself only so I could realize how strong I truly was. They tested my emotional boundaries in order to demonstrate to me that deep down I am a confident, independent woman with a solid, sturdy head on her shoulders. They were not problems, but, as cliche as it sounds, blessings in disguise. They were fate. They were destiny. They were serendipity. They were life, and each and every single one of them shaped me into the person I am today, someone who is likely to experience more failures, struggles, conflicts, and tears, in this “new” year, but also someone who, because of these less than desirable experiences or events, has the strength, knowledge, and confidence in and about herself to overcome whatever the new year can throw at her. It may be a “new” year, but the girl that I am right now, is the same girl I was yesterday, and no change in the date is going change that.

So this year, instead of making New Year’s “Resolutions”, focus on your goals. Focus on the things that light a fire within you. I know I am. This year, while I know that deep down I am the same driven, strong, dedicated, and unbreakable girl that I have always had the potential to be, I, for the first time, have goals that I want to accomplish. And for me, that is what makes this “new year” really feel like a breath of fresh air.

For the first time, I have my sights set on something that if you asked me even 4 months ago if I would consider, I would have laughed out loud in your face, yet now it is top on my list of things I want to achieve before 2016 comes to an end. For the first time, I have goals that don’t include my education, for I am set to graduate this May (the fear that this evokes within me can be saved for another post), but the education of others as I hope to find a job as a teacher. For the first time, I have goals that involve working on characteristics or personal habits that I have and find less than desirable. For the first time I have specific goals for relationships with specific people, fitness goals, no longer am I just the “runner”, lifestyle goals, goals for things I want to do, see, eat, experience. For the first time in my life, I feel like the road before me is stretched long and as far as the eye can see. For the first time I feel as if the possibilities for my life are endless. For the first time, I see the New Year not as a time to boast about a “new me”, for I am still the same person and will remain the same person as I always was, but rather as a new chapter in a life that maybe I haven’t actually been living to its fullest.

So stop with the resolutions, you don’t need resolving, and start with setting your own goals, whether they’re big or small. Stop trying to pinpoint every little thing you did “wrong” in the past year, and start seeing those experiences as destiny, fate, serendipities that led you to the life you're living and person you are now. Stop with the “new year, new me” mantras, and start seeing the change in the date as just that, a change, an opportunity, another chance to make something of your life. See it as another day you were given on earth, another chance to say something, do something, eat something, experience something. See 2016 not as a year of “resolutions” but as 365 chances to live the life you were given, to be the person you were put on this earth to be, to breathe air into your lungs, to feel the beating of your heart, and to make the most out of your time being alive, because no one is promised another 365 days on this earth, we aren’t even promised tomorrow.

[shelaughedwith0utfear]

In love with my crazy, beautiful life in my crazy beautiful town

[shelaughedwith0utfear]

Because She Had

They sit together in their spot in the park, like they’ve done so many times before. Her legs dangling from the bench, his bent as he sits on top of its back. If they were to describe their relationship to someone, they merely needed to photograph themselves in this moment and show it to them. The picture would've explained everything. The way their fingers intertwined with one another, the way they each smiled looking calm, beautiful, the way their eyes spoke to one another and told stories that their mouths could not find the words for. This is how it always was with them, familiarly repetitive, like coming home after being some place really different for a while. This is how it always was, until wasn't.

Maybe it had been 3 weeks, maybe four, the girl couldn't quite remember, since they had been their normal selves. Since he had been his normal self. Since she sat on that bench, with her legs dangling, and felt like she had come home. She wondered if he felt it too, if maybe she had changed as much as she felt that he had. She didn't feel like she changed. The way she talked, the things she laughed at, the things that made her happy, the things that were important to her, they all remained the same. The way she thought, the way she loved, the way she looked at him, that was all the same too. She was like a nursery rhyme, something that you kept reading a hundred times, committed to memory, and it didn't matter that the words never changed because it was the comforting predictability that brought you back to it each time. No, she was pretty certain she was the same, it was him who had changed.

And as she sat there, watching him, she realized that you could recognize someone and not recognize them at the same time. That she knew his features like the back of her hand-- the wrinkles in his forehead, the creases on the sides of his mouth when he smiled, the way he bit his lip when he was nervous, and tapped his foot when he was uncomfortable, and despite these physical characteristics still being there, the boy sitting next to her, tapping his foot, was a stranger.

She wondered if he had ever looked at someone he loved and instead of seeing someone who made you feel alive, you couldn't find any trace of who they once were, because she had. She wondered if he had ever felt the pain that comes with knowing the person you love is slipping away and you cannot do anything about it, because she had. She wondered if he had ever known what it was like to have your world catch on fire and you're so helpless that all you can do is watch everything turn to ash, because she had. And she wondered if he ever had had the urge to break down and cry in front of the person he loved, just so that maybe they would realize how much they were hurting him, because she definitely had.

She wondered all of these things, but remained silent. The pain cutting like a knife through her fragile heart. She voiced her concerns to her friends who told her she was crazy, that he was crazy about her, that nothing had changed, that he was just busy, reoccupied, tired. They tried to reassure her, but deep down she knew they were wrong. For it wasn't that nothing had changed, but rather everything. For only she knew that his texts no longer contained the same expressions of love, no matter how silly. Only she could miss his overuse of "lol" and excessive exclamation points. Only she could feel the pain that ensued by texts of hers that went unanswered, when he used to always get the last word. Only she could sense the insincerity of his laugh when she told a stupid joke that used to crack him up, or he ingenuity of his smile when they caught one another's gaze from across a room or saw one another unexpectedly in the mall or out to eat with friends. Only she could understand what it was like to be sitting right next to him and feel like they were worlds away from one another. Only she could know, could feel, could understand these minute details and she wondered if he knew, felt, and understood these things too, because she had.

But all she could do was sit there, helpless, motionless, because she knew that it would be worse to voice these concerns, to open up these wounds, to give him her heart on a silver platter, than it would be to let these questions destroy her on the inside because that gave him the power to kidnap her heart and disappear with it forever. She wondered if he ever realized that sometimes that pretending was easier than facing reality, that holding on by a thread, no matter how thin, was better than letting go and tumbling to your death, she wondered if he ever thought about these things, if he still even cared about her, if he still even liked her. She wondered if he knew the unbearable, excruciating pain that ensues when you look into the eyes of the one you love and realize that that person isn't there anymore. That they're gone and they're not coming back, because she had.

[shelaughedwith0utfear]

Wish I May and Wish I Might

It was once said by a character on the great television show One Tree Hill, “Sometimes I think we waste our words and we waste our moments, and we don’t take the time to say the things that are in our hearts when we have the chance”. When you think about it, every minute of every day there are hundreds of thoughts floating around inside our heads. The wheels of our brains are constantly turning, wishing, wondering, dreaming, yearning, longing, living. Every second of every day, we are thinking and words are forming. Some have the fortune of escaping through the cracks in our mouths and reaching the ears of other beings whose minds are simultaneously thinking, wishing, yearning, dreaming, and wondering too. 

In a lifetime, we speak an infinite number of words. Some are made to hurt, some to love, some to voice opinion, some to express sadness, some come out in the form of a song, while others are used to take part in daily conversation. However, there is an infinitely larger amount of words that we leave unsaid, the words that remain inside our heads, trapped within the walls of our mouths, bottled up inside our hearts, until eventually they vanish, never to be heard from again. 

When I think about my life, I like to think that I speak my mind. I voice my opinion when necessary. I participate in my classes. I socialize with friends and family. I tell my family I love them. I raise my voice to defend myself. I speak up for others who are rendered speechless. Yet, I cannot help but think about all the words that I leave unsaid. I can’t help but wonder the power of the voice that I silence. For words have unimaginable power. Words, when strung together, can work in perfect harmony to move people to tears, but also can be like the blade of a knife leave a wound so deep that it can never be repaired. I think about all the times I felt things and never voiced them. I think about the moments that I wasted by not letting these words live outside my body.

 I think about the people these words would have been said to. I think and think and think, until finally my mind feels like a volcano ready to erupt with a thick lava of words. There are people in my life who I think about constantly as if an entire section of my brain is dedicated to them, as if they have their own language within the confines of my mind. Yet this volcano of words burns my insides as I feel the lava creeping up, up, up through my throat, but never do I open my mouth to let them out. For I fear their power, and, more importantly, I fear the thoughts and words that will be returned to me. But, the lava has finally risen too high, and I need to stop wasting these words and wasting these moments. 

There are so many things I wish I could say to you. I wish I could say I love you and make you understand that I don’t say it in a cliche or friendly way, but because you hold a special place in my heart. I wish I could tell you this, but more than anything I wish you would understand. I wish I could tell you that I never want to lose you, that it is what I constantly fear. I wish I could ask you if I did something wrong, or why you are acting so distance and strange. I wish I could ask where the old “us” went, for when I’m looking at you I don’t even recognize you at all. I wish I could say I miss you even when you’re standing right in front of me, because you aren’t the person I came to love. I wish I could tell you how much I want to be angry with you, but I can never stay angry, and I hate that I can’t hate you. I wish I could tell you that you’re the one who broke me but also the one who put me back together. 

I wish I could say all of these things, but I’m afraid you won’t speak your mind as I do. I’m afraid you try to protect my feelings and tell me I’m completely wrong, because you know it’s what I want to hear. I’m afraid I will ruin whatever sliver of a relationship we have left after I broke us the first time. I wish I could say what I feel, instead of letting the lava burn me from the inside. I wish you would listen. I wish you could hear me, but I guess the distance between us has made my voice small, inaudible, so why should I even bother. I guess I’m an expert at wasting moments, and a professional at wasting words. 

[shelaughedwith0utfear]

No Shame November: Breaking My Silence and Healing My Brokenness

I don’t remember when she arrived. I don’t remember why or how. One day she was just there, unpacking her bags and setting up a bed with some pillows. And there she stayed, sitting within the confines of my mind, screaming at the top of her lungs whenever she got the chance, and keeping me up at night when sleep was calling my name, she was there. She was there during holidays like Christmas and Thanksgiving. She was there on my birthday. She never missed a major milestone of mine, every school play, dance recital, important sports game, she always showed up. But then again, she made it known that she was present everyday of my life. Every time I sent a text message, made a post on social media, every time I opened my mouth to speak my mind, every time I socialized with friends, she came too. I never gave her a name, this negative, self-depreciating voice that lives inside my head, and for the longest time I wondered why she had chosen my body to take up residency. I wondered why she found pleasure in tormenting me, day in and day out, constantly making me overthink every move I made, continuously feeding me with negative thoughts that made me feel smaller than an ant, repeatedly screaming hurtful words and enormous lies at me until, eventually, I believed them. As I grew, so did her volume, as I matured so did her tactics, until I finally realized that this thing, this voice inside my head, it wasn’t the devil. It wasn’t some supernatural phenomena that sought to destroy my relationships with people and deprive me of rightfully deserved happiness. This voice was mine; I was single-handedly destroying myself, my confidence, my self-worth, my relationships, and my life, and it was about time to put a stop to it. It was time to make a change. It was time to choose happiness and positivity. It was time to start living the life I deserved.

 There is a saying that a “negative mind will not make for a positive life”, and for the longest time I lied to myself saying that my sporadic, pessimistic attitude was normal. I mean no one is positive all the time. For the longest time I tried to rationalize my low self-esteem, telling myself it was normal for adolescent girls to lack self-confidence. For the longest time, I let the hateful and self-deprecating voice inside my head tell me how worthless I was, how unloved I was, how ugly I was, how much better others were than me. For the longest time I thought it was normal, until it wasn’t.

 You see it is “normal” for humans to experience a decrease in self-confidence during their teen years. I mean, let’s face it, a little self-doubt keeps us humble. However, it was when the voice inside my head began to move past taking shots at my looks and started impacting the way I lived my everyday life, that is when I knew that not only was this not just a “voice”, but rather it was my voice, and not only did I belittle myself, but I was constantly overthinking everything. This internal battle was no longer a singular one, but began to involve those around me, and transformed me into a person who I now don’t even recognize; someone who is single-handedly destroying their chance at happiness, from the outside in, and obliterating everything and, more importantly, everyone in their path.

 A day in the life of me consists mostly of anxiety. Whether it is overthinking what I write in a text message to a friend, for one false step and obviously I could lose them forever, or second-guessing my own worth, for how could anyone truly care about me, I am constantly degrading myself. The worst part is, that it is starting to ruin relationships with people I care about. You see this is how it usually goes down. I meet someone I really enjoy spending time with, I get attached easily and immediately question their feelings for me. Being the person that I am, I immediately assume they couldn’t possibly enjoy my personality, my company, as much as I enjoy theirs. Every time we spend time together that thought enters my mind until, like clockwork, I start to believe it. Then comes time for second-guessing and a walk down the road of wrongful mistrust. With every text, I convince myself that I am annoying them, for why would they really want to talk to me. If they don’t answer within the day…BAM they hate me, friendship over. If they say something nice to me or express that they enjoy my friendship/company I immediately assume they are just being nice and sparing my feelings for at this point I have probably been vulnerable around them and told them how much our relationship means to me.  Then, like a predictable children’s novel, there is an incident that changes everything, an event where my massive amount of insecurity and negative internal dialogue destroys the relationship I was scared to death to lose. For who wants to be around someone who is constantly telling them what they are feeling? Who wants to be friends with someone who can’t accept the fact that they are worthy of friends? Who can love someone who can’t even see the possibility of loving themselves? The answer is no one. So, before those people can hurt me, I runaway. I shut down. I ignore them, cut all ties, I control the ending of the story, and I end it before it was scheduled to finish. I push people away, thinking that I am saving myself from getting hurt. When in reality, I am creating self-inflicted wounds as I am left with no one, and right on time the voice returns to tell me how pathetic, lonely, and friendless I am. Exhausted from reading this? Try living it!

 Up until this point, I would take my losses of friendships and other relationships like a “good sport”, rarely trying to mend them because I told myself I didn’t deserve to have them mended, or that these people really didn’t want me in their lives, both equally false assumptions of which I had no authority to make. It wasn’t until a week ago, when I overthought something so silly, something that illuminated my lack of self-confidence and over-abundance of internal negative thought, that finally made the light bulb go off. I realized in that moment that I was falling back into the vicious cycle of my own negativity and just destroying another great thing that had come into my life. I was assuming the worst of someone I cared about, and by expressing that was not only hurting myself, but also hurting them as well. If you think about it, it says a lot about how you think about someone else if you really believe they are capable of such mean and hurtful actions that the voice inside my head convinced me they were committing. In the end, while I thought explaining my insecurities would bring about sympathy and words of reassurance or ones that advocated for my own self-confidence, it brought about a wake-up call that was both necessary and shocking. Yet, it was exactly this honest and un-sugarcoated advice that made me recognize my overwhelming need to make a change, unless I wanted to continue to lose everything good that in my life as well as prevent me from obtaining happiness in the future. It was time to change my internal dialogue, before it was too late.

 Recently, I came across a quote that says, “Your mind is a powerful thing. When you fill it with positive thoughts, your life will start to change.” The old me, after reading this quote, would have most likely laughed, thinking just thinking positive thoughts cannot really change your life. However, I know now, thanks to the advice of someone who cared enough to tell me the truth, that these words cannot be more true. If I think that people love me, it is easier for them to love me. If I think that I can do something, it is more likely that I will accomplish it. If I fill my mind with affirmations instead of degradations, I will be a happier and more confident human being. For if you expect the best out of people, more often than not they will deliver their best selves. If you believe that you are worthy of friends, love, happiness, life, sooner rather than later, those beliefs will become realities.

 So, this is for all the over-thinkers out there. This is for everyone who lives with the same self-destructive voice inside their head. The people who second-guess every word that comes out of their mouths, every relationship that they have, every intention of others in their life, this is for them. This is for the broken, over-vulnerable, self-deprecating girl I have grown accustomed to being. This is to tell you to choose positivity. Choose self-love. Choose self-worth. Choose happiness. Choose it for yourself and for those around you, because if you don’t, no one will. In the end, we must remember, we are not trees. We are not rooted in the ground, helpless, and unable to move forward. We are not our pasts. We are not our negative thoughts. We are beautiful human beings worthy of love, respect, and happiness, and little by little, we will work to repair our brokenness.

[oh-teen-posts]

[shelaughedwith0utfear]

Because more artists should use their concerts as a means of uplifting, inspiring, and motivating their fans. Taylor swift is a timeless, amazing role model taylorswift

[lovelivejustbreathe]

[taylorslegs]

when the monsters turned out to be just trees

[urineluv]

[shelaughedwith0utfear]

The Signs as 1989 Lyrics

Aries: The rest of the world was black and white/ But we were in screaming color

Taurus: I want you for worse or for better/ I would wait forever and ever/Broke your heart, I'll put it back together

Gemini: But I keep cruising/ Can't stop, won't stop grooving/ It's like I got this music/ In my mind/ Saying, "It's gonna be alright."

Cancer: Rain came pouring down when I was drowning/That's when I could finally breathe/ And by morning gone was any trace of you/ I think I am finally clean

Leo: My ex-man brought his new girlfriend/ She's like "Oh, my god!" but I'm just gonna shake/ And to the fella over there with the hella good hair/ Won't you come on over, baby? We can shake, shake, shake

Virgo: We're a crooked love in a straight line down/ Makes you wanna run and hide/ Then it makes you turn right back around

Libra: Find out what you want/ Be that girl for a month/ Wait, the worst is yet to come, oh no

Scorpio: People like you always want back the love they pushed aside/ But people like me are gone forever when you say goodbye

Sagittarius: Grab your passport and my hand/ I can make the bad guys good for a weekend

Capricorn: And when we go crashing down, we come back every time/ 'Cause we never go out of style/ We never go out of style

Aquarius: Kaleidoscope of loud heartbeats under coats/ Everybody here wanted something more/ Searching for a sound we hadn't heard before

Pisces: Say you'll remember me standing in a nice dress/ Staring at the sunset, babe/ Red lips and rosy cheeks/ Say you'll see me again/ Even if it's just pretend

[smoores13]

I have to also imagine that we have people who are from New York City, and I also know that we’ve gotta have people here tonight who came here from very far distances, travelled a great distance to be at this show. Thank you. So I feel like I’m looking at a group of people who are all from different places and different backgrounds, have different hobbies and things like that and it’s all different. But I feel like there’s one thing that every single one of us has in common. And that one thing is that when we all feel great amounts of joy or great amounts of pain, we turn to music, and that’s why we’re in this stadium tonight. And sometimes when I’m looking at you, I start to think about every single individual story that is playing out, that has all converged to lead us to all be in this room. And with you all lit up like this I can see every single one of you, even at the top, I can see every person in this stadium. And I’m not naïve enough to think that just because you’re having an amazing time at a concert right now, that there’s nothing going wrong in your life. That there’s nothing you’re struggling with. That there’s nothing that’s hurting you, or haunting you, because that would be unrealistic. The fact is everyone’s got scars, and ghosts, and regrets and things they wished they had done differently, things they wish they had said, things they wish they had never said, you know? And I don’t know what it is for every individual person. Maybe you fell in love with a person or a habit that was bad for you but you couldn’t quit. Maybe you trusted the wrong person. Maybe you never really feel like you fit in anywhere. Maybe you’re so confused about where you’re supposed to go in life and it overwhelms you and you feel like you can’t move. Maybe you lost someone you never thought you would lose, or maybe, the worst one: you lost yourself. Regardless of what is going on in your life that scares you, regardless of what is going on in your head that tells you you’re somehow, someway, not cool enough or good enough or special enough. Regardless of that, what I would like to make note of, is that instead of wallowing in those things and focusing on them and allowing them to defeat you, you got out of bed, and you went to a stadium on a Saturday night in the summertime of 2015 and now we’re having the best time ever! I personally don’t think that we should strive to have some kind of perfect life. I just think we need to stop comparing our lives to other people’s, and I think we need to stop being so mean to ourselves. Because the voices of other people who are mean to us are hard enough to ignore, but if you got it in your own head that something about you isn’t good enough, or just because you’ve made mistakes in your life that makes you tarnished or damaged goods… that’s wrong. That is not true. And I guess what I’m trying to say to you is, if there’s any part of you that is insecure about having made mistakes, I just want to let you know that I don’t believe that that is a bad thing. I think that sometimes making mistakes is the product of taking risks. But I also know that me standing here in front of you is the product of taking risks and making a lot of mistakes. So yeah, if you’ve gone through a lot of rainstorms and it seems like its never going to stop coming down on you, I want you to know that if you keep going, it doesn’t make you tarnished, or damaged. It makes you clean.

Taylor Swift, 1989 tour- Metlife Stadium, East Rutherford, NJ, 7/11/2015 (via smoores13)

taylorswift you are amazing and changing so many lives

[shelaughedwith0utfear]

Stuck in my wildest dreams

July 10th, 2015 was the best night of my life. Taylor Swift, you continue to amaze me and put on a life-changing show that people will be talking to their grandchildren about for years to come. During your show, you made an amazing speech to empower all of the people in your audience. You reminded us that we are not what other people who don’t even know us think about us. We are not defined by our mistakes or “damaged goods” because of the tough times that we have been through. We do not deserve anything but happiness and by watching you on stage, as tears filled my eyes, I realized that you were right. Coming from the girl who has suffered through countless obstacles, the girl who is constantly comparing herself to others and feeling inferior as she scrolls through the “highlight reel” of the “cool girls” social media accounts, the girl who listened to your music and was saved by it more than once, this girl realized that she is enough and that famous people like yourself are still people just like those who fill the movie theaters to watch their latest blockbuster, buy their song on iTunes, watch them on tv, or fill a stadium to experience their concert. Thank you for being real. Thank you for continuing to try and change the world, not just with your music (though you have already done that) but also through your kind, wise, and empowering words. You said that if you reached just one person with that speech, if just one person left that concert knowing that they are not a like or comment, that they deserve happiness and that you were there for them, that that would be enough. Well I can’t say for sure how many people you touched with your poetic words, but I do know that you changed my life, yet again, and made me feel strong, beautiful, and worthy of a life of happiness. I cannot say thank you enough for the past 8 years of music you have given me which touches my soul and flows through my veins, I cannot thank you enough for the concerts that reminded me what it felt like to be alive, I cannot thank you enough for being such a down-to-earth, hilarious, and amazing role model for so many girls. This post isn’t enough, words aren’t enough, but its the only way to try and express how much I love you, your music, and your message. Looking forward to many more years of amazing music. Thanks for fulfilling my Wildest Dreams and taking me to Wonderland. I love ya Forever and Always.

P.s. I made you a gift, I was hoping to get into Loft 89 to give it to you but I would still like to get them to you. They are a hand-painted wooden “T” and “S” with your lyrics from the 1989 album on them. Where can I send them??? I would love to meet you some day…love you long time.  taylorswift taylornationonline taylornationhq