All posts tagged: Personal Essay

A Note.

For the past few weeks it has been hard to breathe. This blog post sharply diverts from the usual theme, tone, and message of my blog. But, as a writer, this is how I try to make sense of what I feel shifting in the air. Thank you, in advance, for reading. I believe a painting is attempting to be crafted right in front of all of us. But just like all great works of art, when you are too close you do not see it for what it is. This? Well this is just a playful splash of red paint. And that? That there is simply a delightful use of black and gray shades. Sometimes we are unable to see clearly what the entire picture is showing us because we are afraid to step back and look. While I am afraid of what I have seen in the past few weeks, I’m even more afraid of (to use a phrase that is already becoming stale) certain rhetoric becoming normalized. The problem is that we are …

Wait, is this a tension headache? WHY

As a lifelong holder of the”maybe you could chill the fuck out a bit” badge I know a thing or two about headaches. I had them on an almost daily basis as a child until one day a dentist looked at my teeth and was like “hey, where are your canine teeth?” (*spoiler alert: I’d ground them away in my sleep like a hobo chewing on roots in the woods trying to talk to birds*). Since then I’ve slept with a mouth guard every night of my life even while camping, even with boyfriends, even while making out sometimes cuz nothing says sexy like excessive saliva. The headaches got better and even though I still get them more frequently than I’d like, they are manageable. But something has happened in the past few weeks. I’ve welcomed a new melody to my catalog of headaches. At first I thought it was the usual, good-old-fashioned almost-migraine headache. But something was different. It was like I was wearing an invisible baseball hat. Made for babies. Baby ants. My scalp …

Breaking Habits We Don’t Even Know We Have

In my suggested readings section of this site I mention the book “The Power of Habit” by Charles Duhigg. I read this book for the first time in the fall of 2014 and I am still a believer. The gist of this book is: change one habit, change your life. But what if we aren’t even aware of some of our habits? Shit, man, what then? After I first read “The Power of Habit” I literally only changed one habit from my days and by God it worked! For years I had a small novel bouncing around in my head, but hadn’t gotten around to writing it. So the one habit I changed was how I spent my lunch break at work. Instead of dicking around on the internet or wandering around the office kitchen I would grab my laptop the minute I clocked out, go to the next door coffee shop, and write for an hour. Every.single.day. And I eventually wrote the little book. I think of this anytime I feel helpless in life. It’s not always …

Rebuilding that Confidence like an OG

As I sat and read through more and more of my statuses from 4, 5, 6 years back I found myself repeatedly asking, “Where did she go?” I disappeared from my personal facebook page for almost all of 2015. I was learning to juggle in the new circus of freelance writing, was planning a wedding, and had already felt like facebook was no longer a place where I felt safe and/or happy. I’ve slowly been stepping back into the shallow-end of the facebook pool, but the water is still a little cold. It still feels like I might swallow some nasty water. And there are still people lurking in the deep end who are wearing plastic dorsal fins. But something interesting happened. I started to read through old posts I wrote years ago, back when I was in college and graduate school. It’s been a bit like peering into the windows of your neighbor’s living room. While you recognize the people, they look utterly foreign in this new intimate environment. I seemed so much happier, so …

My Anxiety Was a Third Wheel on My Honeymoon

“I know I should be Zen and look at my nerves as a symbol of sensitivity and I should be grateful that we’re even here in the first place, but sometimes I get so MAD at myself.” I sat in the airport terminal, Jared waiting patiently next to me, as the loudspeaker overhead announced they were boarding rows 1 – 20. It was almost midnight and we were about to get on our plane to fly back home. We’d just spent a week in Hawaii on our honeymoon and my insides were churning like the ocean in the middle of a squall. My anxiety was pitching and rolling. The last thing I wanted to do was walk onto that airplane. And I was furious. No matter how much I’m aware of my patterns, my habits, and the way my nerves affect my physical body, it can still betray me despite my cognitive awareness. Like, I “know” there is nothing to be anxious about and yet my digestive track and stomach and muscles refuse to acknowledge this. …