Off Day



Don’t go there,

Not today.

There is so much to do,

Places to go besides this house,

Plenty of other emotions to be felt,

But I’ve been sitting here since this morning,

Surrounded by too much nothing,

Hoping for a friend to pull me out,

Because some days are too hard to figure out alone.

So please,


I keep telling my brain,

Please don’t go there today,

It could have been a perfectly average day.


Song: Dear Happy – Dodie Clark feat. Thomas Sanders


Sometimes, you just have an off day. It’s one of those days that are not necessarily bad because there’s no good reason for it to be, but it’s just off. Something isn’t quite right and being happy, productive, etc. feels almost impossible. Maybe you start out the day super optimistic with plans to get so much done. Then, you reach the end of the day and your biggest accomplishment was making your bed or taking a shower.

Anyway, does anyone want to bring me Taco Bell and marathon some Disney movies please?



Let’s take advantage

Of the slipping moments,

The beauty of youth,

Before we can’t feel the passion

As we grow more weary

And life looks less enticing;

Let’s not forget

That you look like tomorrow,

But you could be today too,

So why are we wasting time

As we are growing more weary

Every day that passes a little more weary.


Song: YOUTH – Troye Sivan


I wrote this a while back, posted it, then deleted it the next day because I decided I didn’t like it. Maybe I’m just really tired (last night was a long, dramatic night involving my cat and two gerbils…you can probably guess that scenario) or maybe I really was just being too hard on myself at the time. I was looking through all of my drafts and deleted posts to see if there was anything worth posting and I particularly liked this one. Therefore, it shall be posted once more. And will probably stay up this time.

What do you think?



Size 8

Maybe I could have modelled alongside Marilyn in the fifties.

Maybe I could have fit in a time when girls proudly wore their hair in curls and lipstick was always a necessity.

Maybe I could have fit in a time when round faces and figures were celebrated.

A time when a size 8 body wouldn’t be anything but beautiful.

There has never been a time when I could zip myself into a size 2 dress.

I don’t care about my stretchmarks or the way my stomach always hangs over my jeans just slightly.

I wouldn’t be myself if my body didn’t curve, even if it isn’t in all the best places.

I don’t fit in with either the tiny or the big girls, but my size 8 body still isn’t exactly what most people are dreaming of.

Men and women alike scoff at the rolls that appear on my belly when I don’t sit up straight.

They don’t understand why my thighs brush so much when I walk.

They raise their eyebrows at my nondescript jawline.

As if these are things I haven’t already noticed.

I see size 2 girls and love their flat bellies, boyish frames, and strong cheekbones.

I see size 14 girls and love their curves, mature frames, faces best appreciated by a much less modern era.

Then I see me, size 8, and I’m somewhere in-between.

It’s not such a bad thing, but I wish I didn’t look at them with jealousy.


Song: The Beauty In Ugly – Jason Mraz

There was a time in the fifth grade when I started calling myself fat, started pointing out my big thighs and chubby stomach simply because every other girl started to do it. Up until that point, no one seemed to notice. Or care. Then, sixth grade rolled around and I was known school-wide as the chubby girl, even to my best friends. Even as I lost weight over the years, they still saw me as that overweight sixth grader. Then, I was in high school and I started dating. Immediately after having my first kiss, the same boy told me, “If I just looked at your face, I’d assume you were fat, but you’re not really.” I never dated a skinny guy after that, because I selfishly liked that bigger guys never hesitated before calling me skinny, that they never commented on my chubby face.

I’m not going to sit here and cry about my weight as some way to fish for compliments because that’s not the point of all this. It has probably been the one thing I struggle with the most, and that’s not something I usually advertise. I may joke about my weight, quite often in fact, but I generally refrain from talking about it in-depth. That’s not what this post is about.

What this post is about, however, is celebrating the fact that there are so many different types of beauty. So many body types, so many variations on the same general set of features.

I saw this post the other day on Instagram or Tumblr or somewhere about how pretty and underappreciated round faces are and even though it may seem like such a small thing, it changed something in me. I haven’t seen anything like that before, thousands of people agreeing that one of my biggest insecurities is actually beautiful, and suddenly I felt like I didn’t have to worry so much about the things I can’t control.

So what if you don’t have high cheekbones or perfect hair or pretty hands or clear skin? Maybe you think you’re too lanky, too chubby, too this or that. I genuinely wish that everyone could feel what I felt in that moment; the sudden relief as you realize that the things you dislike about yourself, other people find endearing. I don’t want to get too cheesy, but seriously, everyone is their own kind of beautiful. We don’t need to worry so much. I guarantee that there are plenty of people out there who find you beautiful. You don’t need to be conventionally attractive in order to be beautiful.

I look at girls of literally all sizes and wonder why I can’t just look like them because they’re so pretty, but maybe they actually do the same with me too. I don’t know, but chances are that it’s happened at some point. Chances are that people have looked at you in the same way. Male or female, I guarantee there have been countless people who have seen you in passing and thought you are beautiful.

You can have your insecurities, we all do and they may never fully go away, but your insecurities can be attributes in someone else’s eyes.


Someday…Not Yet

Someday she will write novels about you.

You may become a memory, but she’ll always have so much to say.

How you painted her so many colors all at once.

How she held on too tight while you were loosening your grip.

How she felt more alive than ever while you were losing your will.

Someday she won’t wait anymore.

There will be a nice boy who sweeps her off of her feet.

He will be sturdy, someone who will love her consistently.

It may not feel quite the same, but someday she will grow weary of instability.

Someday living only for tiny moments of joy won’t be worth it anymore.

If you think she’ll stop writing, though, you don’t know her like she knows you.


Song: Waiting In Vain – The Story So Far

An Adventurous Spirit

Take me away from these cold walls pressing in on me.

Take me somewhere where the air flows in and out of my lungs with ease.

I want a different serenity than that of concrete floors and the glow of my television.

I want more than simply staring out of my bedroom window.

Take me back to holding hands under icy waterfalls.

Take me back to dark caves where we pretended we were Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn.

I want more starry nights on our massive blanket in the sand.

I want more days filled with climbing the tallest trees we can find.

Take me to amateur rock climbing with no harness or supervision.

Take me to flying through the treetops on nothing more than a thin wire.

I want flashlights at midnight as we discover tiny creatures in the silent water below our feet.

I want swing sets at the park where we always fight to go higher than each another.

Take me to the place where we walked peacefully and made friends with wildlife.

Take me to the place where fish grazed our shivering bodies and waves hit us on all sides.

I want more days like that.

I want more adventures with you.


Song: Go Outside – Cults

I’m sick. Stay-in-bed-all-day-not-moving kind of sick. Yesterday was miserable, but today is slightly better as I’ve at least managed to do something other than sleep, so yay for that. The funny thing about being sick, though, is that it always makes me desperately want to go outside. Maybe because I don’t have the option, or maybe because of the fresh air, but it drives me crazy to lie in bed all day.

I’ve been dreaming of some of my favorite memories (most of which are mentioned in this poem), of not being sick, of nature walks and the ocean. That was my first thought as I woke up this morning: I want to go to the beach. I don’t think I’m happier than when I’m either at the beach or somewhere equally peaceful and beautiful. I feel closer to God, at peace with myself, just happy.

I’ve never been one for sports (if that’s not obvious already) or anything super thrilling like white water rafting or bungee jumping (I will try a lot of things, but willingly jumping off a bridge is not one of them); I like the more peaceful, serene, slow moments spent in nature. I love the forest by my Granny’s house, sitting in too-hot sand and listening to waves crashing at my feet, the old rickety treehouse I’ve grown up climbing that’s taller than all the trees and overlooks the ocean, pretty gardens filled with flowers I don’t know the names of and butterflies that land on me, the nature preserve that takes almost an hour to drive to but is one of my favorites because the deer aren’t afraid of you and there are hidden pathways everywhere, the park where I’ve spent countless hours laying under the giant Banyan tree.

I don’t want to lie in bed unable to do anything. I want to feel the harsh sun on my skin and a slight breeze flowing through my hair. I want salty air and warm water surrounding me. I want leaves crunching beneath my feet and trees ten times bigger than me.

That’s what I want right now.


I asked,


Pleaded to see myself

Like others could see me.


I wanted the truth,

To wonder no longer.


When my wish finally came true,

I asked,


And pleaded to go back

To a time when I couldn’t see

Every true flaw,

Every real mistake,

Everything I was blind to before.


That can’t be me,

It can’t be real.


Song: My Insecurities – Dodie Clark Okay so this one isn’t actually a song, but I like the message and find it much more appropriate than any song I could find!

I Blame Me

I don’t want to cause you pain,

But I really don’t want to be the one to answer you today.

Something has changed.

I’m not like you.

I don’t feel the things you say you can’t control.

You took something from me.

You’re taking it from me,

I want it back,

Please give it back,

I’ll never get it back.

I want to turn back.

You’re still standing over me every time I turn around.

I could tell you again to stop,

will tell you again,

But you’ll still do it again.

You’ll never learn.

Stop ruining a good thing.

Stop ruining me.

I belong to Him and I belong to me,

But I will never belong to you.

Stay away,

Stay away,

Just stay far away from me.

I still blame me.

You’re still perfect insincerity.

Hurt me once,

I blame me.

Hurt me twice,

I blame me.

Hurt me a hundred times,

I still blame me.

It’s always me.

It will always be me.

Your apologies are weak and I can always see through them.

I’ve never told you that.

I can see the truth,

You would do it again.

You keep doing it again.



It’s all mixing together.

I can’t tell which is which anymore

If there is even a difference at all.

I know I’m not making sense,

But how can I think rationally when you tore away the innocence I held on to?

I can’t take it back,

It’s gone,

It’s my fault.

I can’t hear Him anymore.

I only hear your voice.

I’m sorry,

It’s my fault,

I won’t say no anymore,

Just forgive me.



Song: By The Grace Of God – Katy Perry