May Queen sash (1934)
seen from Morocco
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seen from Malta
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seen from T1
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May Queen sash (1934)
OOTD
Missed tumblr, a lot has happened. If you remember me, I’d be happy to catch up. Please be kind. Still love most of y’all and wish I could still be a part of the community ✨🫶🏻💋
Ski ensemble, c. 1935
Navy blue wool, black leather, red wool
The Museum at FIT
I liked my beard here
(Nearly) 1 month on keto, back into my old denims <3
I have another milestone pair to fit into though :P so it's a WIP
Me: *puts on eye cream before bed*
Me, to my reflection in the mirror: "You still got it you old harlot."
A Potpourri of Emotions - Here’s to 34.
When I turned 33 I joked about the fact that I couldn’t wait to see what my “Jesus Year” had in store. At 33, I had three college degrees, two kids, two houses, I’d paid off a car, traveled abroad, and married my life partner. Life was so good. I was going to focus on giving back, growing professionally, and continue my self-care that I hadn’t discovered until well, 32.
I should know better. I can make plans, but the universe will have different ones for me. A gentle reminder to stay humble I guess. For someone who strives to have control of her life because for so long I felt I didn’t, it’s not just anxiety-inducing, it can be debilitating and traumatic. But since I have thrived in surviving, adaptability is one of my coping skills.
I’ve chronicled my journey of parenting a child who struggles with mental health, and another one with a genetic disorder. I’m used to having to be quick on my feet, doctor’s appointments, and endless medical bills (it’s a permanent category in my budget). I’d be lying though if I said this year didn’t kick my ass.
This year was lonely. It felt very isolated. It felt like I was constantly asking for too much and always doubted whether I was getting on people’s nerves. I felt like I was swimming upstream. Like I didn’t get enough sleep, ever. Like I lost control of my own health. l lost joy. I was in a constant battle of reminding myself whatever was happening was not fault and that I was doing the best I could. Every.Single.Day. Thirty-three sucked.
At 33, I’ve been parenting over half my life. The comments have gone from “babies having babies” to “when are you going to have another one? Time might be running out.” My value as a person continues to be in the context of a mother, and for the majority of people my accomplishments are tied to the person I’ve married, not me as an individual. This entire year has almost erased me and only seen me as a parent.
As I close my Jesus year in quarantine (with my mother nonetheless!) I’m going to prioritize my health and happiness again. Thirty-two was awesome and it taught me so much and I so desperately want that feeling of freedom back. I want to continue to engage in public service, continue to learn, continue to grow, enjoy and build memories with the people who continue to be a part of my life, and continue to exercise gratitude. I’m looking forward to trying more wine, reading more books, and to start using that Peloton that will for sure kick by butt.
Here’s to 34. Mid 30′s y’all.
Celebrating 24.
...and almost 34.