A big part of growing up is learning how to be confident in who you are. I’ll be the first to admit that I always have and probably always will have a hard time with this topic. I grew up thinking that confidence would magically fall out of the sky and lodge its way into my brain. Yeah, Kate, it clearly doesn’t work this way. Obviously. I have always been more on the shy side and actually showing my true colors in front of other people has always scared me silly.
As a kid, I was bullied throughout school and I believe it has a lot to do with why I have had issues with confidence. (I know what you may be thinking. Why did you listen to those people? Why didn’t you move on?) Well, I really don’t know that answer to that. But I think at some point, I actually believed what they said about me. I actually allowed someone else define my self worth and I believed it for years. I believed all the things they said that made me cry in a bathroom stall for close to an hour every day. I believed I was worthless and would never fit in with anyone else. I believed I was ugly and deformed. I believed I was stupid and had no talent. I believed that I was a waste of space and life.
But that’s the thing about bullies. They like to twist their own insecurities and morph them to create chaos in their “victim’s” life. But here’s the thing. Once you refuse to be the victim and show off your confidence, they can no longer win. That’s what confidence does.
Confidence is basically loving who you are regardless of what others think. It is taking risks and getting up every time you fail. It is giving a helping hand to someone who needs saving. It is accepting your flaws and seeing that everyone has them. It is feeling pretty without makeup. It is laughing and learning from your mistakes. It’s being beautiful outside and more importantly inside.
So maybe something or someone is trying to crush your confidence. Never fear! You have what it takes to make it and I know you will be fabulous. Look the adversary in the eye and be who you are. Don’t believe the lies they throw at you. Just keep on smiling and believe in yourself. I believe in you! You will be surprised at how far you can go!
Loads of Love and Support,
Okay. I am going to try this. Hopefully I won’t burst into tears but I can’t make any promises.
*Takes deep breath*
Okay. I just want to say thank you. Thank you, WordPress. For everything you have given me. Thanks for giving me a place that makes me feel like I belong. Thank you for being there when I felt like my head was going to explode from all the ideas swirling in my head and actually allowing me to express them.
Thank you for giving me the opportunity to meet new people and read passages that have inspired me, made me laugh, made me cry and feel a connection even though their writers are worlds away. Some days you are literally the only thing that keeps me sane. I look forward to logging in and seeing what you have in store.
I baked you a cake! (Sort of.) I hope you like it. It’s chocolate. Your favorite! (Well, I hope it’s your favorite.)
But all joking aside, thank you for everything. Thank you for saving my sanity, one post at a time. It means more than you will ever know.
Loads of Love,
In case you’re having a bad day, here’s something from SFoxWriting to cheer you right up! 🙂 Have a good one!
Some days you wake up feeling broken. You’ve been hurt somehow. Your heart is too weak to feel anything else. You feel as though nothing can comfort or console your wounded soul. You feel like you can’t shed another tear, yet they keep pouring down your trembling face. Sometimes everything just brings back millions of microseconds of happiness. Every one sending your mind back to a time where all was well. As soon as the memories end, so does your solace.
Sometimes you feel as though this will never end, but it always does. Little do you know that you are slowly growing from the inside out. A small sprout of bravery breaks through the brittle ground. Your small beacon of hope. It softly reaches its small green fingers to the sun in timid triumph.
Don’t give up just yet, please. Our strongest moments are brought out by pain and tragedy. I know it hurts, but it will heal in time. I was once told in a dark time of my life by someone very wise that it may not look like it now, but everything will be okay. I have never forgotten that and I hope you don’t either. I beg you, please hold on. Just hold on. It’ll be okay.
Loads of Love and Support,
What is it about writing that makes people happy? Is it releasing what your mouth couldn’t sound out? Maybe it’s the feeling of the pen scratching the surface of the pure white page and the gliding dance that forms words from the heart. All the images in your head that were once stuck manage to flow through your fingertips and create a work of art never to be duplicated again.
Perhaps it is the mind’s way of playing through its many problems. It faces many puzzles throughout the day, you know. Maybe it’s like when we watch television or run or sing. Maybe it’s just a way of clearing the fog that has gathered for far too long. A way to relax and feel at ease with the world. A way to breathe and take in the ever changing world. Perhaps.
Maybe it is the emotional rush that comes with constructing the perfect image through words. Maybe it is the freedom to create worlds beyond your own and people who understand every nod and smile. All of your creations wait for your every word. They watch as you stop to consider what could happen next. They anticipate each command to continue acting upon your beautiful stage. Anything could happen. Anything.
Maybe it’s the knowledge that what you have created cannot be destroyed. You tuck it in a special place and in your satisfied heart. It will be safe there until the end of time. Each word is permanently etched on the walls of your heart. Thank heavens for that.
And what a beautiful wall it is.
Lots of Love,
Yes, I need a time out. Please go easy on the yard penalties. Some days I wake up mentally drained. Nothing can seem to snap me out of these stoopers. What I really need is an opportunity to call a time out whenever I am feeling overwhelmed. Wouldn’t that be fantastic? Just imagine, you’re in the middle of class and the professor is talking way too fast again and your head is swimming from all the content that has just been force fed to your twitching brain.
It’s just like what Zach Morris does in Saved by the Bell. Everything magically stops and people are frozen in time. You have all the time (within reason, of course) to rub your throbbing temples and maybe go to the vending machine and scarf down on a Snickers. (After all, you are not you when you are hungry…so I’ve been told.) You take the last sip of your Vitamin Water (Lemonade flavor, to be precise) and you snap your fingers. Time begins yet again and you can carry on as usual. See, this is all I want. Power to freeze time and do what I need to do to get “chill” again. But apparently what with the time space continuum and limited technology, that is too much to ask. (Heaven knows I am not a demanding person. Come on scientific community, work with me!)
And on top of the mental fuzzies, it’s a Monday. Ah yes, Monday. The literal slap in the face your body gets after a much needed weekend of relaxation and happiness. The ball and chain attached to your soul that thrives from any form of torture it can inflict on you. The miniscule thorn deep in the tissue of your open heart. Love your face, Monday. (Please note the extreme sarcasm and disdain dripping from the previous statement.) If I had a trademark Monday face, it would have to look like this. A thousand words, people.
I hope you are having a better Monday than me. Have a fantastic day, wherever you are! And stay awesome.Oh yes, and if you wish, Follow my blog with Bloglovin! Thanks!
Loads of Love,
We are living in a very superficial age. Magazines are splattered with ads for cosmetics, hair products, clothes, shoes and so on. You have to own the best to be the best. On top of that, we are expected to fit into the mold of lean built models and actresses. “Thigh gaps” are looked at as a sign of being pudgy and overweight. You must fit into a size double zero to be seen as a beautiful woman. You must also keep perfect, blown out hair, porcelain skin and a straight bleached out smile. Basically, we are expected to be Barbie.
Barbie always has up to date clothes, has a fabulous build, drives a convertible and has the perfect cut boyfriend. She is the pinnacle of beauty and little girls are taught that if they don’t reflect Barbie standards, they won’t be seen as beautiful. How sad is that? Our society tells young girls to mimic shallow, self obsessed people who are too attached to their own reflection to see the world around them. (Please note that not all people are like this, but a good amount of them are.) Girls are starving themselves, cutting themselves, screaming at their reflections and sometimes even taking their lives because what they see in the mirror doesn’t “cut it” in the medias’ dimmed eyes. They are destroying the self worth of future mothers, sisters, daughters and friends. Nothing is ever good enough.
The thing about Barbie is that she is only plastic. She can’t run and play, use her imagination, write a love letter, sing a beautiful song, heal broken hearts, help carry a burden, kiss boo boos, pass down wisdom to future generations, dance in the rain, laugh until she cries or give words of encouragement. She is only an object put upon a pedestal. Nothing more. The most important thing she lacks is a heart. Without a heart, you can’t do anything worthwhile. The heart creates things that the mind could never fathom. The deepest love and emotion swells inside and is poured out through kind words and actions. That is true beauty. No makeup needed. (Although makeup is fun!)
I just wish I could tell all the girls who hate their reflection that they are beautiful regardless of what anyone says. I wish I could tell them that in order to love others, you must love yourself first. I wish I could show them that if they just hold on, they can change the world.
Lots of Love,
What a day. You reach inside your pockets and search for your keys. There. Found them. You single out the one you need and slide it into the lock. You hear the tumbler click and open the door slowly. You just need to grab those things and be on your way. The room is covered in darkness with the exception of the slither of light illuminating your searching shadow.
Where are they? They were here a few hours ago. Your hands fumble blindly across the paper covered surface of the desk. Where could they be?
Suddenly, you see orbs. Glowing menacing orbs in the midst of the black. He has them. He snatched them again.
“You! Give me those back! They are mine.”
He laughs at your fury and you hear a swift heart wrenching rip.
He has destroyed them.
“Those were my ideas! I was going to use those! How could you do that?”
You see his figure shrug as he disappears into the depths. He never has cared and nor will he ever. Your work is only scribbles on scrap sheets. He loves taking what isn’t his.
You slowly bend down and pick up what is left of your treasure. Some pieces manage to slip out of your careful hands and float to the cold floor. All of the pieces are covered with your script. You gently cradle them and place them on the desk. You sit in the dusty chair and wait for a sliver of inspiration.
He may have gotten away with it this time, but next time he won’t be so lucky.
Procrastination is like a drug. Once you try it, it creeps into the center of your naïve mind and spreads its roots deep into your core. Suddenly that twenty page paper can be completed and A+ worthy within only five minutes. (While you are eating your burnt toast and putting on your makeup too. Multi tasking is a must if you take up this craft, mind you.) Everything can be put off until the very last moment as your life is spiraling in a dramatic nose dive of smoke and screams. And for some unknown reason, you always manage to believe that you successfully attempt a Top Gun worthy stunt that can make everything smooth again.
Yeah, nice try, sport.
Not even Tom Cruise could pull that one off.
I actually never understood why I procrastinate as much as I do until I actually began to study it. I just figured that I truly was lazy and careless. I found that for the most part people procrastinate because of a fear of doing something wrong.
Wow. Now I am a lazy coward. Goody.
All joking aside, it truly does add up. I mean if everything was easy, everyone would easily jump up and take on projects (Unless they are truly lazy. Sorry, no suggestions there.) Any time someone puts something off, it is normally because they are not confident on how to find a solution to complete the task. For example, I can write papers all day on pretty much any topic. Give me time to research and get my thoughts together and I can write all day long. But put a calculus book in front of me, my eyes almost pop out of my head and my heart quickens on horror. (Yes, math is of the devil. I will forever stand by that statement.)
I admit that I tend to get intimidated by tasks that I am not used to doing. I guess I am afraid of failing, but that’s okay. What’s not okay is when I just give up without giving it a fair shot just because I am frightened. After all, if I fail, it will cause a repercussion in the core of the universe that will destroy all of mankind in a torrent of fury and pain. Then millions of giant flying spiders will attack the forests and destroy all the beautiful trees and flowers. And then I will have to relive my 7th grade year all over again when I had horrible hair and gym class every day…wait, no it won’t. That’s just what my overactive imagination tells me to avoid trying anything. Good one, imagination.
So when it comes down to it, procrastination is just fear of failing in disguise. I am going to try and improve on my procrastination. After all, what’s the worst that can happen? Don’t answer that…
Lots of Love,
Imagine a world of silence. A blank canvas where no beautiful sounds could enrapture your soul in wondrous and graceful dance. Each note colors the white walls of your heart. Each shade signifies who you are and where you came from. Music is the language of the heart that allows each of us to release the unspeakable. It is the understanding confidant who knows your every secret and desire. It allows you to fly to the deepest depths of your mind to uncover the mirrors and portraits of memories and thoughts. It lulls your mind at ease and allows it to simply float to where it desires. The places you are normally never encouraged to go. Things happen there. Wonderful things that will simply spoil you for the rest of your days.
No one hears “It’s cancer.”
“I don’t love you anymore.”
“You are not good enough”
“It’s too late.”
“You have failed.”
Music takes our shaking, beaten hands and waltzes into an oblivion of peace. Nothing has to go wrong if that is what you wish. The only thing you feel are the notes and rests that glide into your receiving ears. The lullaby gently causes your heavy tear filled eyes to close and forget the pain if only for a moment. You finally have wings to fly away from it all. All you have to do is wish it. Finally, someone understands. Someone actually cares and won’t interrupt. Someone finally listens. You no longer feel forgotten. You feel freedom and pain. Freedom to feel the pain and leave it in some dark corner where it had originated. The pain doesn’t have to grip your heart. It releases in defeat and slithers away without a fight.
The floating feeling tingles through your heavy mind. You want to stay forever. It’s such a beautiful place. Finally things don’t have to constantly make sense and be practical. The imagination has taken over and reality submits reluctantly. Slowly your head sways in agreement to the melody. Nothing can hurt you anymore. You are free. You are…
Then the music ends.
Reality is back.
Your mind tries to comprehend the blow of the transition. Then you understand. You are back again.
Until next time, my friend. Don’t forget me. I know I will never forget you. Never.