How To Deal With Big Feelings

It was into the first few days of spring, and a lot was happening all at once: my former neighbor died, and I had to be the one to tell my family. My nephew was born prematurely, and the events leading up to his arrival were fearful and filled with anxiety. Little things had been piling up weeks prior, and it got to a point where it was like I couldn’t do anything right. I was almost in an emotional paralysis of sorts because I feared doing or saying the wrong thing.

I’m a Big Feeler by nature, and crisis or life events exacerbate that. By definition, I’d say Big Feelings are when you’re experiencing a lot of different thoughts and emotions about something, and you might question which is the correct or appropriate one, if any of them are. It gets even more complex when people around you, whether they mean well or not, try to tell you that you’re overthinking, overreacting, or just flat out getting worked up for no reason. It’s not depression, but it’s not quite an anxiety attack either. It’s hard to describe. 

I learned about various coping mechanisms, and was reminded of the importance of others. These are merely suggestions, and there’s no one particular order to do them in. 

Talk To Someone

When I’m going through a hard time, experiencing a loss or uncertainty, my first instinct is to reach out rather than isolate myself. If nothing else, it’s comforting to know that someone knows what’s happening, because ultimately I don’t want to feel alone. 

If you’re comfortable doing so, reach out to a trusted friend. If you already have a therapist, make an appointment (even if it means having to wait a week or two). If you don’t have either one of those things or it’s late at night, contact a hotline. I’ve been told that Al Anon can be a good resource as well; from what I understand, it’s not only there to help those who have loved ones struggling with addiction, but it can be a source of support when you’re surrounded by those who are emotionally unavailable. I haven’t been to a meeting myself, so I can’t vouch for this personally. There are meetings that take place both online and in-person. 

One of the hardest things about vulnerability is having the words/language to describe it all. Something like, “I’m struggling with something and could use someone to talk to. Are you in a good head space to listen?” would be a good place to start. Or, “I’m going through it right now and don’t know exactly what I need, but I could use some support.” 

The key is reminding yourself that you’re entitled to feel your feelings, and you don’t deserve to be gaslit in the process. Yes, certain people might be uncomfortable seeing you in a vulnerable state, but that doesn’t negate the validity of your experience. 

Write It Down

I’m not the most consistent when it comes to keeping a journal (long-form handwriting often leads to hand cramps and swelling), I will say that there’s power in writing down whatever comes to mind. My thoughts are no longer living rent-free in my head, and it puts me in a better head space to focus and make decisions. When I can’t confide in someone at that moment, or something is difficult to explain, writing helps me sort it all out. 

A journal isn’t going to call you selfish or tell you to be strong for someone else’s sake.  It’s simply there to hold space, letting you say what you need to, regardless of how messy, immature, or flat out ridiculous it sounds. 

It doesn’t have to be in the form of a letter. It can be just a few sentences, or even bullet points. If writing by hand is difficult, there’s no shame in keeping some sort of online document, which can be password protected. There’s also keeping voice memos on your phone or using talk-to-type software. It doesn’t matter how traditional or high-tech, as long as you can express yourself.

Practice Self-Soothing and Self-Care

Unfortunately, relief doesn’t always come right away, let alone in the form of a text or a hug from a human being. When life gets overwhelming or you’re in this waiting period and wondering what’s going to happen next, practicing self-soothing seems counterintuitive (and mirrors the cultural mindset of being self-reliant). But if loved ones can’t be there and you need to keep yourself from falling into an emotional black hole, self-soothing techniques might be your best bet. It could be in the form of grounding (observing and naming the things around you via the five senses), wrapping yourself in a literal hug, or laying your hands on your chest/stomach while laying down (I did this a lot during the early days of the pandemic). Take deep, diaphragmatic breaths. Close your eyes and count to ten slowly. Go for a walk. Dig your heels into the ground (literally). 

If you’re already at a point where you’re mentally checked out and can’t do anything, give yourself some grace. Something like a medical situation, a diagnosis, or unexpected news is a lot to process. Compassionate people understand that these things make it challenging to carry on with business as usual, especially if your world as you know it has been turned on its axis. 

There’s some hefty debate about what self-care means, and one of my favorite writers pointed out that self-care can be confused with self-comfort. I think both are necessary, and they’re going to be different for everybody. 

There are days where it might mean focusing on the small victories (nourishment, basic hygiene, getting dressed, physical movement). If you’re easily overstimulated, it means making time to recharge and be by yourself. As hard as it is, try to stay off your phone and social media, even if you’re waiting for an important text or phone call.  It’s common to want to hope-scroll, research, or listen to a bunch of podcasts on how to become more securely attached. But the world of the internet can be a sucker for emotional spirals, numbing out, and overall making us feel worse than we already are. Whatever is waiting for you on the other side of the screen will most likely be there if you’re only checking in periodically. I learned how to tweak my phone settings so that I’m only using certain apps for an hour at the most. If absolutely necessary, I put my phone in my purse (or just out of sight) and rely on my smart watch. And while I don’t stick to it every day, having boundaries with my devices is something I’m still trying to practice. 

But it’s not just about avoiding what’s unhealthy or not getting stuck in a pattern. You have to make space for joy too, if not relaxation. I got into watching old TV shows (from childhood) on YouTube. They’re silly and cheesy, but often have the light-heartedness I need when decompressing/winding down as the day comes to an end. Without the usual commercials, they’re only about twenty minutes long if you actually go through an entire episode without skipping. When I’m trying to decide what book(s) to read, I have to be conscientious about where I’m at mentally and whether or not I can handle certain subject matters for the time being. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to feel good or experience some sort of release, especially when our every-day existence seems to be getting heavier. 

It wasn’t until I met my nephew in person (and held him) that I started to feel better. I was still brain tired and overwhelmed from being on-the-go, but seeing him for myself helped me to trust that he was going to be okay. On the drive home from Kansas City, I came across Kacey Musgrave’s rendition of “Three Little Birds.” I’m not a huge believer in signs, but hearing that (along with a text from a friend checking in on me) gave me a sense of peace. After my neighbor’s funeral the following week, it was like I could finally exhale. 

What I mentioned above seems doable in theory, but not exactly black and white when actually you have to do it. There’s no formula or snap of the fingers, but when it comes to feelings, I’m finding that the best way forward is to work through them. Name them and accept them without giving them a death grip. Recognize that they can and do change.And take what I’m saying at face value, because I’m still an amateur myself. 

As a side note, a little empathy goes a long way: If someone has the courage to share that they’re struggling grieving, whatever it might be, the least we can do is acknowledge it: “I’m sorry that’s happening, and I’m here for you,” (or just the latter). People need to be seen. They need to be heard. And sometimes, they need to be affirmed that they’re going to get through it, and that the sun will rise again. 

Big feelings matter. How you feel matters. Keep going.

An Ode To My Millennial Cringe Era

I learned to like the feeling of love

From boy bands and Disney movies

Blue prints on friendship came from books surrounding preteen babysitters

Saturday mornings were all about cartoons and lucky charms (mostly the marshmallows)

Social outings were planned in advance on long-corded phones

In my generation, technology didn’t start out “Smart”

Cue the hormones, the highlights, a trifecta of “designer” (cheaply-made) fashion 

Grew out of Barbie’s, but never cared for Bratz

I was too busy sneaking rich-girl stories and racy romance paper backs

Screen names had to be cool yet chill

Afternoons and in between post dinner homework were for AIM

But behind the choker necklaces

It was like the girl I knew was being choked out of me

Attempting to blend in to survive 

I went to really dark places

Without the angsty lyrics or black under eyes 

Everyone but me knew I was trying too damn hard 

And when I cried and asked for help

The solutions were oversimplified 

Tone down the writing and get offline 

At fifteen I was rocking bangs (that didn’t really bang)

Switched from public to private high school 

An education that came with uniforms, exposure to small town life

Insert music becoming auto-tuned

Wearing perfume like a flower

Still going to church for a boy

I wasn’t interested in sneaking out

But I read Cosmopolitan at my summer job

(Guess was that was)

You either had to be an athlete or a theater kid to find your place

I was neither

So I suppose high school was just a stepping stone 

Welcome to campus!

I was more than ready for independence 

To leave my old identity behind 

Classes were for sweats

Weekends were for Express tops and leggings

Toeing the line between stylish and modest

But never go makeup-free

Because I never knew who I was going to meet 

Dreaming through the walks with my iPod nano

Recovering from a night out with Gossip Girl and One Tree Hill

The happiest I’d ever been

But to stubborn to call my family when the struggles set in 

That life was a bubble

And I lived in my head 

More people were spontaneous 

I still made plans

My racing thoughts manifested in what was called anxiety

I was pretty damn proud of myself for going to therapy

But I resisted medication, believing I’d have to give up drinking 

I craved experimentation and exploration 

But didn’t have the language for when my body was disrespected 

A cycle of shame and questioning why it all happened 

The birth of dating apps made it all so confusing

I didn’t feel safe or trust men in private or public

I wrestled with God, Purity Culture, and the ever-divisive political climate

Reflecting on those years

It’s not about finding myself, but embracing who I’ve always been

Things that I tried to hide or deny

Multiple things can be true at once 

I have regrets, and I didn’t  know better

A college degree is not the key to everything

Communication can be easily misinterpreted by what’s on a screen

Social media no longer revolves around bumper stickers, superlatives, and showcasing one’s personality

It’s all news and views (and being “right”)

I’m conflicted with maintaining a presence

While not getting sucked in 

I own (and love) my “Barbie Energy”

Advocating for myself professionally and medically

Call me entitled, but I deserve good things

I continually honor the girl I’ve been

And honor all the facets of the woman I’m becoming

Trying to be kinder

More compassionate 

Gentler

More myself 

Even when there’s doubts, frustration, and even tears

I don’t cringe, but rather giggle

And I’d hug that girl repeatedly 

That girl who now sings and dances to Taylor Swift

Accepts her body (as best as she can)

Has Big feelings

What was then still matters

It has shaped me

It has moved me

The good

The bad

And the in between 

Making sense of yesterday 

To celebrate today

This poem was inspired by Kate Kennedy’s “Once In A Millennial”.

Thirty-Two

If I haven’t said it before, I’ll say it now: I love celebrating birthdays, and I’ll continue to celebrate mine despite being told that there’s no reason to do so once you hit a certain age. I will incorporate as many little things or as many big things as I want (within reason). 

But this was the year I realized that I needed to do something a little bit different, a little more low-key than a big dinner and partying into the wee hours. I’ll still make exceptions for important events like weddings and concerts, but trying to do the same stuff I did in my twenties usually results in a full body hangover (thankfully no headache or nausea, but there’s pain everywhere and I’m usually too stiff to move). 

I eventually decided on brunch in Chicago, and one of the less costly brunches for the city (if you live there or visit as often as I do, it could easily be categorized as a religion). My sister celebrated with me for the first time in ages (apart from family), and it was wonderful introducing her to some of my closest friends. We bopped around for a little bit after our meal, ending up in the midst of a Taylor Swift-themed bar crawl (which I wasn’t mad about). I left to catch the train home around dinner time, and once I was back in the suburbs I took a bath, had a cup of tea, and went to bed. I was still tired the next day, but thankfully there was no hangover of any kind to recover from.  And ultimately, I was glad to have fun in a way that wasn’t so hard on me physically. I enjoy going out and exploring, catching up with friends, trying new places and things. And I also reach a limit, and I’m thankful that the people around me respect and honor that. 

As I’ve said previously, the past year was a lot. I realized that my body was changing, and pursuing solutions to the symptoms was isolating and oftentimes, lonely. I examined my relationship to alcohol, flew solo on a plan for the first time, and soaked up all the Barbie energy and nostalgia. There were many days where I felt like I was just going through the motions, playing catch up on things that I needed to do and hesitating to ask for help that I needed. I didn’t quite have the breakthrough that I wanted (at least in a way that felt monumental), and I don’t know if that was a God thing or perhaps I wasn’t “hustling” hard enough. 

During a meeting with a wellness group that I’m part of, I expressed my struggle in getting on a solid sleep schedule and creating balance in my routine. But as we talked, there was one word that kept coming up and stood out to me more than the buzzwords I’ve heard in terms of what you can accomplish during the day. 

It was rhythm. 

Depending on the context, rhythm has quite a few definitions. I read a Forbes article where rhythm was described as showing up as your authentic self at work, whereas balance was attempting to do everything perfectly. One of the wellness group leaders described rhythm as making room for work, rest, and play (in no particular order). 

I’m still in the midst of creating my own definition, and perhaps it will be an ongoing endeavor. I do have structure and I do have a routine, but it doesn’t always go the way I plan in it my head. Ideally I would love to be able to get up at five in the morning on most days and write in quiet, uninterrupted flow. I can get up before sunrise if I have enough adrenaline (i.e. a plane or a train to catch), but on a normal day it’s not that easy, especially if I haven’t slept well and/or my legs are ridiculously stiff). 

I think rhythm depends on the season. It involves listening to my body and moving and resting based on how I’m physically feeling. It’s having a routine, but also leaving room for spontaneity and morale boosts and doing brave things. The goal is not necessarily productivity (a word I’m coming to loathe), but efficiency. Meaningful work. 

And yes, I realize that it’s different when working in Corporate America and having hard-set deadlines, quotas, last minute pivoting, and everything in between. But no one should have to risk their mental and physical health in the process, and I stand by that. 

Since the end of 2023, I’ve been working on a creative project that’s very close to my heart. I won’t share what exactly it is right now, because I’m protective of the message and the ideas and concepts surrounding it. I’ve finished the first draft, and am hoping to find an editor that will help me with revisions. I strongly believe in asking “what are we not talking about that we should be talking about?” and this concept is one of them. I don’t know where it will lead, but I pray that it will make an impact. 

I always try to stay open to what a new year will bring, regardless if that starts in January or my birth month. This might be bold of me to say, but I believe that I deserve opportunities, even if it means creating them. I deserve success, whatever that looks like. And I deserve to feel good, feel confident, and be well. 

Here’s to thirty-two!

When Writing is Hard

Twenty years ago
I discovered the power of writing things down my paper
Expressing angst and longing and anger
First an outlet and than my college major
Blogging and journaling on the side
It’s what I knew, like a second language
When I couldn’t articulate an out loud opinion or what was on my mind
But it came with crying and raging
Debates and unbelieving
Doubts and questioning why
The truth can be subjective
It was just my perspective
And those experiences are still valid

I typed a little less
Kept the deepest shit in a crevice
It took time to acknowledge reality
Told to stop the tears
Unless someone was sick or dying
Violence against my body and emotional abuse. somehow I’d brought it on myself

Well damn the differences in understanding
I won’t ask for permission to be vulnerable, express and make meaning
Of scars and scrapes and heartbreak
Don’t say this is my gift now use it
Then lose your cool when I do it
Just because you don’t like how it’s done

Some stories are uncomfortable
Personal histories can’t be fixed or rewritten
Instead of pretending, ignoring, or lashing out
Practice having empathy and compassion
When it comes to pain and healing, there’s no statue of limitations

I’d keep it in until the sun went down
When the rest were asleep
By then the moment had passed
Too tired to weep

Trauma gets stored up in your system
If you don’t let it out in healthy ways
Manifesting itself in chronic conditions
Struggles with eating
Figure obsession
Fatigue and joints aching
Anxiety
And depression

I’m an emotional person
I don’t like to hide behind curtains
Or wear stoicism like a badge of honor
It’s not about malice, or sadness, or what’s deemed “negative”
But releasing and breathing and experiencing peace of mind

I’ve lived a unique life thus far and I have things to say
My experience has shown me the power of adapting
Perhaps suggesting let’s try this a different way

It can be a challenge when self doubts slinks in
In the form of questions and accusations and no conversation is productive

I write with passion and purpose
Choosing words that hopefully educate, enlighten, and uplift
People can choose to read it or leave it
That’s the power of freedom
And I will write
Despite being afraid

Reflecting On 2023

This year has been…a lot.

. I remember January and February, but March through June is like a blur when I attempt to look back. When summer came to a close, the consensus among my friends and I was knowing that we did a lot, but yet it felt like we didn’t (or perhaps there was more that could have been squeezed in). This particular Christmas season was packed with many activities and while I always enjoy the lights/decorations and quality time with family, I struggled at times with being present and not experiencing mental exhaustion. But there were also important, damn-near milestone moments that took place and I couldn’t be more grateful. 

I bought A New Mattress

It seems like one of those mundane things, but as someone who struggles with not holding onto money with an iron fist, this was kind of a big deal. The one I’d been sleeping on for the past decade was well past its prime, and whenever I laid down or got up, I could hear the springs move. I’d been holding out due to not only refusing to spend the money, but wrongly believing it would make more sense to get one once I had my own space. I will say that investing in it sooner rather than later is always worth it, especially if you have chronic conditions to cope with. Not only is my current one more comfortable to sleep on, but I chose one that goes up and down with the help of a remote control, so I don’t have to rely on flimsy pillows for back support while I’m reading or watching TV.

I Flew Solo For The First Time

Aside from an eighth grade trip to Washington D.C. I had never flown on an airplane without my family. The mere idea was terrifying at first,and despite the short turnaround, I didn’t take it lightly. My friend and I had been planning my visit to Austin, Texas, since late summer, but it had been difficult to find a block of time that worked for both of us until shortly before Thanksgiving. Getting through the airport went smoothly, and I was grateful for the assistance and accessibility. Though the days were slightly unpredictable and required flexibility on my part, I was glad to have a break from the constant noise, and to have some quality time with someone I care for. It was the first time I had stayed with someone closer to my age for longer than just a weekend, and I learned a lot about direct communication and being less afraid to voice what I wanted and needed (which was incredibly different from when I was nineteen/twenty). I realized that I still have some internalized ableism to address, and I cried more openly than I have in months. It was all a breath of fresh air, and something that I felt that I needed to do for myself, in itself. 

I’m On A Continuous Health Journey

I received some news around springtime that while somewhat expected, it still left me asking “what now?” and sent me looking for a full-proof formula on how to care for my body.  I continue to identify my experience based on particular symptoms, rather than the diagnosis that’s in my medical file because I’m not here to argue with anyone about the validity of what’s happening. I took a break from alcohol for a little over a month, and have continued to focus on cutting back and only drinking in moderation. I joined a gym (after having primarily worked out at home with free weights since 2014), and while that’s something I’ll still use if it’s the only option, I’m finding that weight machines provide more support and make more of an impact. 

There’s a lot of nuance, and no day is one in the same. I’m still learning to be okay with that and find peace with it. 

I’m cautiously optimistic about 2024: I’d like to see some professional breakthroughs, and accomplish certain things without harming my physical and mental health. I’d like to get into a writing routine, which I’ve been putting off because writing often brings out my emotional side, and it’s hard being lectured for crying unless it involves tragedy. I want to spend more quality time with certain people, and to have a social life without packing so much into a week, perhaps even a month. I want to feel strong again and have more energy. (First step is cultivating a doable nighttime routine and going to bed before 11pm at least four nights a week). 

I want to continue building a gentle life. 

Here’s to a new year, and may it be what you’ve hoped for, prayed for, and envision it to be. 

Heart Sign

For several decades now
Generations have witnessed war and tragedy
Inside and out their front doors
What used to just be the evening news
Now a twenty-four hour cycle of coverage, debate, and speculation
What worked years ago now seems obsolete
And regardless of opinions and statistics
The outlook appears bleak
Moments of bliss are now followed by guilt
Gratitude, joy, pain, and suffering are a heavy hold
Compassion fatigue sets in
Simultaneously with, or followed by depression

The ebb and flows of life
Are not black and white
Coexist do darkness and light

It’s not wrong to grab and savor joy
A musical and/or sports fandom
Cozy reading
Delicious food
Movement
Belly laughing
Touch and physical closeness
New experiences
Nostalgia
Sparkles and glimmers
Dancing in technicolor

Joy is strength and respite
A buoyancy
What gives us the willpower to take action
When the world seems to be on its knees
And there is power in the collective people
Who come together
To take care of one another
And call for better

And while life is not a fairytale
The stories, romanticizing the every day, and child-like wonder
Sure make it a lot more interesting

Unmasking Emotional Triggers: Navigating Responsibility for Self and Others

I can feel my face growing hot and tingly, as though I’m embarrassed (despite just having come across a picture). Something starts to happen in my chest, and in hindsight my guess is they were heart palpitations. I’m trying to breathe deeply in order to prevent an emotional spiral. Yet it’s as though I’m trapped in this bodily experience and I don’t know how to calm myself down. 

//

I’m watching an incredibly popular yet controversial Netflix series. From what I recall at the time, there was no “viewer discretion advised” and the darkest scene hadn’t yet been taken out. I had heard of the book and was intrigued by the concept. I limited myself to one episode per night with the understanding that it would be heavy, and it most definitely was. It got to a point where I began having nightmares, waking up disoriented and perplexed about where it all came from (I had a similar experience with watching Thirteen back in high school). I sensed that this series wasn’t something I could handle, and decided to refrain from watching again until I felt that I was in a better headspace. 

//

I couldn’t find a formal definition for “emotional trigger,” but from what I understand, it’s a visceral psychological reaction related to a previous traumatic experience. Sometimes the person might feel as though they’re reliving the trauma all over again. In recovery spaces, there are a lot of boundaries put in place during meetings in order to prevent harmful discussion, or the person reverting back to harmful behaviors. 

Unfortunately, the word “trigger” itself has been plagued with negative connotations over the years. It’s been used to mock those who are rightfully upset or angry, which has probably led to misconceptions about being upset or hurt versus genuinely being triggered.

I’ve wrestled with a number of questions on the subject: am I responsible for reducing the likelihood of people being triggered? (and vice versa). Do I absolutely need to put detailed warnings in captions on social media before sharing something? What about educational settings, especially higher education?

The short answer is that it’s complex and comes with many layers. It truly depends on the situation, the audience, and the environment. For instance, if I’m being vulnerable with a group of people (without established rules or boundaries) I don’t want to have to overthink about what I’m going to say and how it’s going to come across. People are allowed to excuse themselves from conversations, take breaks, and do what they need to do. But when I’m having an individual conversation, it feels slightly different. I often think about Dr. Henry Cloud’s book Boundaries, when he touches on that while we’re not responsible for someone’s emotional state, but we are responsible to them. Meaning, if someone comes to me and says “This was (or could be) harmful”, or maybe even just hurtful, I should take the time to hold space for them, listen without getting defensive, and make amends if it’s appropriate.

Academia is tricky; I’ve been out of the classroom for almost a decade, and while there I didn’t engage with media that I found problematic. On one side, there’s the whole “the world is harsh and life is unfair, and you can’t avoid something because it makes you uncomfortable” argument. While this is true to some extent, it comes off as “I had to go through this and I turned out fine so you should too.” We can acknowledge the realities of life while still practicing compassion and empathy. And while learning to use proper coping mechanisms is important, not everyone has access to mental health care that gives them a safe environment to do that. I’d say that if parents are allowed to object to books that their kids are reading in grade school, higher education students have a right to advocate for themselves as well.

As a writer and an activist, social media has become an important part of amplifying things that I care about. I do add a “read with care” note when it comes to certain pieces, along with books that I’ve read (I know that certain words result in content suppression, though I’m not sure about specific warnings, which I’ll continue to research and appreciate any insight on). Over the years I’ve experienced a lot of tone policing in regards to things I’ve shared, from writings to photos to outside articles (and didn’t come from strangers). It was hard to let it roll off my back and not question myself, especially because the whole reason I started blogging in the first place was to share my perspective as a disabled woman (who grew up with the “overcomer” narrative), and when called for, to take a stand. I’m not going to demonize social media when it has provided many opportunities for the Disability Community, including friendship, accessibility, and trying to make an impact. 

And here’s the thing:

Yes the internet has become a breeding ground for division and toxic thinking. It seems like everything is either politicized or polarized. But you, the individual user, are responsible for how you use it and let it impact your life. It’s entirely possible for you to see something you disagree with and keep scrolling. You can unfollow or mute someone without having to unfriend or block them (blocking is always the last resort for me, unless I sense that someone has harmful intentions). If you don’t like it, don’t look at it. Put your phone/tablet/computer down and direct your energy elsewhere. 

If you’re on the receiving end of criticism (some which might border on vitriol or bullying), know that you’re not powerless. Facebook, Instagram and company might be considered a public forum, but that does not mean having to debate or defend your opinion on every little thing (especially when one has an opinion, and one clings to an ideology). In my experience, there are some matters that are no longer up for debate. It’s important to discern when one is looking to learn, clarify, etc. and when one is just looking for a fight (leave the conversation alone and see what kind of messages you come back to). There are battles that are not worth fighting, and there are battles that you’ll never win. It has little to do with you and everything to do with that person who’s desperate to be right. 

I say all of this as someone who is easily triggered by arguments. I understand that conflict (in relationships) is healthy, but my first instinct when I suspect the slightest inkling of tension is to run and hide. I hate having heavy conversations in cars because I feel trapped. If things escalate, I prefer to be in a place where I can close a door, take a break, and re-engage when everyone has calmed down. 

Even more so, I startle easily. Tap me on the shoulder and I might yelp and jump as though I’m watching a horror movie. My body is hypervigilant, even when my mind doesn’t sense danger. I’ve been trying to figure out the root cause for years and can only come up with theories; it could be slightly neurological, and it could be trauma-related. But I’ve long since accepted that it might just be part of me, because I’ve lived like that for so long. 

Life is hard, but that doesn’t mean we have to be so hard on one another. We all need more grace, especially when we don’t get it right. We’re all hurting, and a lot of us still need healing. 

I don’t know the path forward, but I want to move with empathy and compassion. To be soft and strong. To make room for multiple things. If nothing else, for both.

Loving Young

These summer months

Have brought a resurgence

In old things new

A fascination

Of what was once insinuated

That when you’re old enough

You box up

Or give away

No longer a child

And children don’t keep their old toys

First it was the 90’s action figures

In all different colors

That I barely remembered

But came to love the show all the same

Then movie about a doll

One of the very first which I played with

That reminded me of the challenges, triumphs, and empowerment

Of being a woman

Twice over I’ve laughed and cried

With my whole self

And group of radioactive turtles

Not quite my favorite or as many memories

But the fresh takes made me giggle

Some might call this a season of nostalgia

When life wasn’t about living through electronic devices

Or social media

But maybe there’s a sense of timelessness to it

Personally, I needed it

A reminder to seek joy

Revel in laughter

Recall what makes you feel lighter

Regardless of whether or not it’s deemed “cool”

It’s not about the past being better

But perhaps seeing it fresh eyes

Introducing it to new generations

Realizing how it shaped you

Or merely because

 indulging in a pop culture phenomenon feels good!

A comfort

When the rest of the world

Especially the media 

Seems so heavy

One could say this is nothing new for me

That I’ve always been childlike 

*Side-eyes boy band CD collection

To the point of being labeled 

Something other than a grown woman

I’m here for the Barbie Energy

The evolved and the reimagined

The magic of revisiting something wonderful

Perhaps a continuation

Keep it going

Let’s keep dreaming

And being in

The things that don’t weigh us down

When I Took A Break From Alcohol

It had only been dinner and two glasses of wine. I initially fell asleep as I normally do, but then awakened around two a.m. as if I’d been hit by a truck. Everything (aside from my head, surprisingly), hurt all over. By the time I worked up the willpower to get out of bed, I could barely move. The fatigue and weakness stayed with me throughout much of the day, and while I can’t pinpoint what exactly was the cause of such things, I intuitively knew it was time. 

I needed to take a break from drinking, full stop. I chose Lent not necessarily because I was giving something up, but because it seemed like a reasonable time frame. I actually fasted on Ash Wednesday, save for water with a pinch of lemon juice and salt for hydration. I only told a small group of friends at first, because there was something about abstinence from a substance that felt sacred. I wasn’t sure if my decision was only temporary or would eventually take on permanence, and I didn’t want anyone trying to sway where I was at. Not only did I need to break a pandemic habit, but I was trying to figure out if it was triggering a specific reaction in my body. 

There were a lot of flavored seltzer waters and tea. Interestingly enough, I discovered the beauty of steeping cold tea (at a minimum of six hours, and a mason jar is usually most efficient). I had root beer for the first time in over a decade, and I wish La Croix could be purchased in individual cans, rather than having to buy them in boxes. I discovered that my favorite booze-free beverage (so far) is Betty Buzz’s sparkling lemon lime, though it can be tricky to find in most grocery stores (and expensive to order online). I liked (and still do enjoy) having a variety of both fizzy and tepid things to try, though I cannot stand the taste of tonic water. Sending weekly photos to that trusted group helped me keep track of my progress, and helped me stay accountable on the challenging days. 

And by challenging, I’m referring to the social/public aspect of not drinking. There was one instance when I went out to dinner with my family, and I asked for a cucumber cooler without the gin (using the term “virgin” in that context sounds outdated and just plain weird). The waitress took my order, but then came back and asked if I wanted vodka or tequila in it instead. I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt because it sounded like English wasn’t her first language, but it rubbed me the wrong way.

I struggled with finding the courage to order a mocktail, especially if I didn’t have a specific one in mind (side note: club soda, a lime or two, and simple syrup is a good place to start), and since it wasn’t a particular month, mocktails themselves weren’t exactly advertised on menus. (I’ll get into the importance of that later). 

But that awkwardness turned into frustration in moments where I felt like I had to explain my decision and was met with, “Well alcohol isn’t good for anyone, and the world would be better off if people stopped drinking.” This undermines just how difficult it can be for some to give it up (as Laura McKowen discusses in her book We Are The Luckiest), whether it’s temporary or completely. Even though I only abstained for forty days, it was still a lonely time, as I skipped out on various social activities, and I was additionally dealing with chronic joint pain. There’s a different and more compassionate response when someone discloses that kind of decision, such as “I’m proud of you,” or “How can I support you?” The former is dismissive and painful, and can be part of the reason why someone doesn’t talk about that part of their journey (especially when they need to). 

The novelty of drinking wore off a long time ago, but I’ve had a complicated relationship with it since I was in my twenties: 

Shortly after turning twenty, I experienced a night on the town from hell. When I tried to talk about what happened with someone whom I needed help from, I was met with, “Well I’m not responsible for my drunk actions.”

During my first year of being a legal drinking age, a friend from high school was killed in a drunk driving accident.

 Between twenty one and twenty-five, There were a number of incidents where I wasn’t coherent enough to give consent, though to be clear, alcohol does not cause someone to violate another person’s body, and assault can still happen when one or both parties are completely sober.

From twenty-six to twenty-nine, I dated several men who struggled with alcohol abuse (insisting they could recover on their own or didn’t have a problem), and not only was it heartbreaking to watch, but it was also hard to set boundaries when I became a de facto therapist for them. I learned that I cannot  be in a romantic relationship with someone who refuses to take responsibility when they could have easily caused harm (or worse) to themselves or someone else.

By now, I have a better understanding of what too much does to my body from a physical standpoint: too much triggers muscle weakness, which makes it difficult to move, and extremely difficult to get up if I fall (there are other factors involved also, such as how tired I am that day or how much I’ve been walking/moving around). Hangovers mean I can barely keep anything down, including water. My body can’t metabolize that stuff the way that it used to. Perhaps I was only fooling myself into thinking that it ever could. 

I admit, I still enjoy the sentimentality of a glass of wine, especially when I’m sitting by the fireplace or watching a hockey game. Tequila is the only hard liquor I really touch these days, and it’s rare. I’m incredibly mindful of how I go about it, especially now that I’m aware of other options. 

I’ve never been one to preach or try to convert anyone to anything, because there are very few things in this world that are black and white. I will say that creative non-alcoholic beverages (not just soda or juice) need to be available year-round, rather than just for Sober October or Dry January). Non-drinkers deserve to be able to socialize in public if and when they’re ready/comfortable, and if someone says that they’re not drinking for whatever reason, that should be the end of the discussion. It’s tough that most coffee shops no longer seem to be open past six o’clock, or there’s a lack of accessibility to both those and public libraries. (whether it be due to distance or disability). There’s a definite need for public community spaces that people can be in without the pressure or requirement to spend an unnecessary amount of money.

And while I won’t get into AA or recovery (I attended Eating Disorders Anonymous meetings and had a sponsor, and the way she treated me left a bad taste in my mouth), I do believe that making better choices requires more grace. Allowing yourself and others to be all of who you are, especially when you have setbacks. Guilt and shame do nothing but deny our humanity, and keep people from moving forward. And a little humility goes a long way.

I’m trying to live a more gentle life; a life that’s focused on presence and ease, rather than caving into hustle culture.  And it starts with being gentle with myself. Especially when I’m afraid of embarrassing myself, afraid of being abandoned, or even outright rejected because of what I cannot control.

I’m thankful for those who supported me then, and for those who continue to support me as I try to implement the best care for my body, mind, and soul. One foot in front of the other, one day at a time.

Knocking

It’s frustrating, not knowing if it’s you or them or some combination of the two…

Fresh off of graduation high

There were no limits to the sky

I had a dozen dreams

At twenty two 

that was good enough for me 

With a pen and a degree

A golden road of possibilities 

Maybe I had rose colored glasses 

About glamour and sky scrapers

Fast paced and deadlines

“It’ll be too much pressure”

Supposedly aiming higher than I could see

But what’s an aspiring career creative supposed to do?

Told to take what you can get

“Not enough experience”

Without direction or guidance 

It chips at confidence 

So I made myself small

To fill a resume 

And get a little pay

Micromanaging and gurus

Instead of mentors and leadership 

Work harder, some said

Ignoring the toxic systems already in place

Set up for failure instead of success

I didn’t know how to pause and assess

To pivot, more broadly, and go another way

You say I’m not good enough

Before seeing what I can do

You say it’s not a good fit

But you’ve yet to see me

Leaving me lost 

with empty questions

How do I reinvent myself 

If all I get is silence or half truths?

I’m not in my twenties anymore 

But 2023 has me roaring 

Talking to whomever I can

To find that magic button 

That will elevate my dreams

And I know dreams change 

Landscapes, lifestyles, and markets never stay the same 

Desk life isn’t what it use to be

Blame it on technology

I fault your lack of variety 

Willingness to embrace diversity 

Especially when it comes to those 

Who have different needs

All I’ve ever known is my gift(s)

Wanting to use them

To offer a unique perspective 

And I don’t need a cubicle to use them well

But it would be nice

If you evolved

As I do

And gave me not just a chance

But a real opportunity 

That becomes a trajectory 

Secrets Vs. The Sacred

I go through seasons where I’m an open book and seasons where I resemble a turtle using its shell as a refuge. It’s been almost a decade since I first learned about the concept of vulnerability, of sharing your heart and perhaps baring your soul with another person, and I’m convinced that it’s less black and white than it’s ever been. There isn’t a concrete formula that makes your experiences and truths land well, and regardless of how you go about it, there will always be those committed to misunderstanding and refusing to sit in their own discomfort. 

At the very beginning of my recovery journey, I was incredibly transparent about what I was going through. I didn’t want to hide it or act like it wasn’t a big deal, because it was. I believed it was part of the healing process (which it can be), but when you’re in a raw or fragile state, an unexpected reaction or lack of empathy can feel like rejection. That created some emotional distance, and another layer of pain, self-doubt, and struggle to receive love and care. I regret that some relationships changed, and I still wonder if that would have been the case had I been speaking and writing from the scar and not the wound. 

I did not have access to a typical therapeutic environment (most treatment programs only take private insurance. One had a scholarship option but that comes with the caveat of only having one shot to get things right, which seems unrealistic in my experience). I know people were concerned about what I was posting on social media at the time, that I could suffer consequences for it professionally, and going so far as to suggest that I was just doing it for attention. In retrospect, I wanted to keep myself accountable and find community somehow. It was where I was at, and sometimes it’s not about whether you do the right thing or the wrong thing. It’s the reality of the situation, and doing the best you can with what you know in that moment. 

There’s something to be said for not sharing something publicly right away, especially in an age where strangers feel the need to express their opinion on everything, or acquaintances think it’s their business to nose in on yours because you’ve shared something deep and real on an online platform. This can even be true for things that give you joy, like celebrating your body or a special occasion (weddings, births, vacations, relationships, etc). You shouldn’t have to defend yourself if you’re an adult making adult decisions about wearing shoes that only you have walked in. You shouldn’t have to explain what lights you up, what lifts you up, and what helps you feel whole. 

Secrets are rooted in shame and trying to control what goes on around you. Sacredness is recognizing that you don’t feel the need to disclose or open up about something immediately, or until you have a better understanding of what’s happening. It’s okay to take the time to grieve, to celebrate, to soak in whatever it is on your own terms and at your own pace. But if it happens to come up organically or come out on its own, that’s okay. 

Letting yourself be seen and known by a person or a community is terrifying, especially when you experience the world in a way that regardless of how much you try to explain it, they’ll never completely understand because they haven’t been there. Here are a few things I try to keep in mind in order to feel more comfortable and to feel most like myself. 

I try to be in the right headspace, and check in to make sure the other person in the conversation is too before diving in too deep. It’s a sign of respect when it comes to mental health, because if someone isn’t in a place to receive what you’re saying, then the conversation most definitely won’t go well. And if you’re on the receiving end, you have every right to say “I don’t have the capacity right now, can you check in with me in a few days?”

I try to keep the conversation in person or over the phone, so that miscommunication doesn’t happen or that things get lost in translation. I value eye contact, having the ability to clarify things right away (although I’m not a fan of having important conversations in the car, because most of the time I’m navigating where we’re going and it’s tough to converse and be present while simultaneously trying to keep track of directions). 

I understand that for many reasons, this is not always possible or realistic. If texting/online is the best option, it’s important to set parameters (Need a break or time to process? Say so. If one can’t respond immediately, make it clear so that silence doesn’t lead to assumptions). I can only speak for myself, but I don’t like being novel-bombed out of nowhere and expected to focus my attention on that, especially if I was already in the middle of a task at hand. 

I genuinely try not to overthink about how things will play out. I still struggle with being direct and speaking up for myself. I get stuck in that child-like mindset of paying attention to a loved one’s mood to determine the likelyhood of my needs being met. I’m still unlearning not to take full responsibility when someone can’t or refuses to try an empathize with where I’m coming from. 

One can only do so much to guage a loved one’s emotional availability. One can only plan and be so calculated so that things might go the way they hope. Sometimes there is no right time to ask hard questions or say what needs to be said (as much as I question that). You just have to do it. And if you’re close with someone or in a non-platonic relationship, there’s something to be said for checking in with each other regularly. 

You cannot force people to see you, hear you, accept you, and/or love you. You can only tell the truth and take care of yourself.

Something Untitled

Something about this life

Certain days have a sheen

You smile and you dance 

Going on like a dream

The air is alive with magic 

The moments align just right

You’re not waiting on the night

You’re not waiting on the next date

Next break

To truly feel alive 

Morning a blessing of grace

Holding space for the spiritual 

Coffee and tea, prayers and reading

From bus to train

Waiting for the whistle

Some days it’s a hustle

But more an opportunity to observe

To sit and be 

Perhaps even meet and engage if appropriate 

But what do you do

When the mundane

Or the world around you

Does not even contain a glimmer

Of joy or wonder?

Put your feet on the ground

Eyes closed

Breathe in and out

Observe your senses

Even the pain, loss, anger, loneliness, grief, unknown 

It all deserves to be felt

And experienced

So that your body does not become a hiding place

Where it all will eventually manifest 

And come out with a roar

I have embraced my child like self again

The storyteller 

The magic-seeker 

The romantic 

But not everyone gets to see her

I am protective of her energy

Along with my own

Thirty One

There’s no way to talk about my current birthday without reflecting on the first year of my thirties. And if I’m being frank, it was a lot. 

There was definitely joy, meeting my twin nieces and getting to spend time with them is something that’s hard to describe in words. I cherish being an auntie, and I love seeing their personalities develop and evolve as they grow. It’s amazing how different they are from each other, and yet I can tell how much they already love each other as sisters!

My mom got married to a wonderful man, and I’m grateful that they found each other. That particular week was probably one of the busiest I had that year, with starting a new job, the ceremony and reception, all while going back and forth from the city to the suburbs for a bachelorette party. I might be a little bit crazy, but when you’ve known each other for over twenty plus years, you do what you have to in order to make everything work. 

And then watching her marry the love of her life a month or so later, it still gets me emotional. Constantly running up to people at the reception, hugging and playing catch up (then pulling them out on the dance floor because one of my favorite songs came on). It was one of the few times I’d danced in public since the pandemic started, so that added a special touch. While I didn’t like traveling home the day after, I can’t say I regret not sitting down for most of the night. Witnessing and celebrating love, the views, and the quality time we all spent together made it all worth it. 

I’ve written previously about how being let go from a job was a blessing in disguise, as it was one of the most toxic environments I’ve been in thus far. But it was soon followed by an uphill battle to get back on Supplemental Income, which started in May and wasn’t settled until December. I had to frequently pray for spiritual endurance because of all the phone calls, submitting documents, and office visits, and overall questioning of why the restoration process was taking so damn long. I was already in the system, and what it came down to is because the Social Security Administration is such a revolving door, hardly anyone has the correct information or knows what they’re talking about. It’s such a messed up system, and I no longer have empathy for “we have so many cases and are overwhelmed as it is.” I’m thankful that I had my mom to raise hell with me, and for the people that checked in on me and let me vent when I needed to. 

My health was, and still is an ongoing matter. I have more knowledge than I did a year ago, and am slowly finding peace with having to make some changes. After I saw a neurologist in January, my first thought was finding the exact meal plan and the exact workout routine in order to mitigate the inflammation/pain. I have to keep telling myself that there’s no perfect formula, and it’s okay to not have answers (or at least all of them). There is still a big part of me that wants to make people feel comfortable, especially those that have been walking with me through all of this. “This is what I’m doing, this is how I’m going to do it, and don’t worry about me because I’ll be fine!” 

Simultaneously, I’m still working on how to admit when I’m not. To let the gaps and tension be what they are. 

I’ve had my word for the year since before the new year even began. 

I want and I pray for a breakthrough. 

Break through in my career. 

In my relationships. 

I want to feel good again, physically. 

To live a gentle life. The kind that’s like sipping coffee out of a french press on a weekend. Reading a book. Watching the sun rise and set. 

I’m writing this on the eve of Lent, which I haven’t taken all that seriously since college (what’s the point of giving something up if you’re just going to go back to it?) But right now I feel moved to do something that’s been pulling at me for a long time, yet I haven’t had the courage to actually start. I’ll elaborate more when I feel the time is right. 

Here’s to thirty one, and having a new and different kind of fun!

How To Support Someone Who’s Struggling (Mentally and Emotionally)

Throughout 2022, it broke my heart to hear about all of the public figures taking their own lives. Yet it seemed like the conversation was more of the same sentiments, and not as nuanced as it should be. I want to be clear about a few things: I’m focusing on how to talk to people so that hopefully they don’t get to a point of being in a mental health crisis, not what to do during a mental health crisis. I’m also speaking from a place of personal experience, and not professional advice. Please take it as that and read with care. 

Ask Meaningful Questions

There’s a lot of debate over whether the question “How are you?” is appropriate or even effective. It might depend on the nature of the relationship and how close all parties are (that are engaging in conversation). I prefer to ask, “How are you today?” because it focuses on the present and it’s a little more personal. When someone asks the former, it’s almost like the person on the other end is being tested: Do you tell them what you think they want to hear, or do you tell them the truth? Sometimes by being honest (without an invitation to do so), the truth-teller risks being the one to comfort and reassure, instead of the other way around. 

If someone is brave enough to be vulnerable with you, follow up by asking “How can I support you?” They might know what support looks like for them, and they might not (at least in that moment).  Sometimes just knowing that someone else is aware of what’s going on, and that they don’t have to hold it in or carry it by themselves is more than enough. 

Hold Space

This time last year, I was having a tough day, a tough week, and not motivated to do anything. A very important person in my life texted me, and I admitted that not all was well. They invited me over to their place and we just sat there together. I can’t remember what we talked about, or if we talked about anything at all. But it was a balm to just be together, and to know that they cared about me enough to not let me feel my feelings alone. To this day, it’s been one of the simplest and sweetest things that anyone has ever done for me. 

Not too long ago, I gathered with two different groups of people knowing that there was a chance that I might bawl my eyes out. In the first group, I shared some things regarding a health situation (and this was the first time that I’d met most of them). With the second group, we talked over food and beverages that were the right combination of laughter and vulnerability. I wish I had been able to have a good cry, but the moment just didn’t happen. Again, the most important part was that we were together, and I felt safe and loved and cared for. 

Affirm Their Needs

Remind them (repeatedly) that it’s okay to get emotional, break down, cry, etc. It’s uncomfortable for anyone witnessing it, but oftentimes the gateway for processing and addressing things. (It’s actually been scientifically proven that crying is one way to relieve the stress cycle). Let them know that needing connection and relationship is normal, and that it doesn’t change your perception of who they are. If “You are not a burden” leaves a weird taste in your mouth (as it does for me, because I personally don’t find that helpful), try “I” statements instead:

“I appreciate you sharing this with me.”

 “I’m grateful you’re opening up to me.” 

“I’m glad we’re talking about this and that you’re in my life”

I think our brains receive messages better when we’re reminded of who we are, rather than who (or what) we’re not. 

I abhor the term “needy” because it has such a negative connotation and implies that we should be able to do this all by ourselves. We all have needs, and we need to have people in our lives that are ready and willing to try and meet them. This is just a theory, but perhaps one of the reasons that mental illness and mental health crises have skyrocketed is because we act like we have to be such an individualistic culture, when the reality is that the only way we truly survive and thrive is by being a village for one another. 

Don’t Put A Timeline on Wellness

I know that insurance companies tend to only pay for a certain amount of medical related things, but timelines or expectations of when healing will happen should not come from loved ones. Questions like “How many meetings must you go to?” or “How long do you need to attend therapy?” seem well-intentioned, but they’re annoying at the very least and hurtful at worst. Healing takes as long as it takes, and the best way to go about it is one day at a time. And sometimes when it comes to things like depression, anxiety, and physical pain, it can often be more about management and coping than reaching a destination. Sometimes it’s clinical and sometimes it happens in seasons or at certain periods of time. Expecting anyone to have it all figured out and then verbally putting that expectation on them is probably one of the least compassionate things that anyone can do for someone that’s trying to feel better.

Let Them Experience Joy

It’s sad and annoying that collectively, we have become nitpicky and judgemental about what people like and enjoy. As long as it’s not inherently harmful, then everyone has a right to experience joy in whatever way that looks like. It could be milking the heck out of the holiday drink choices at their favorite coffee shops. Putting up Christmas decorations in November, or leaving them up until February. Indulging in nostalgia by watching their favorite tv shows or movies from decades ago. Laughing at their own jokes or sarcasm (I’m much more sarcastic in my head than I am out loud). Whatever it is, LET THEM HAVE IT. You don’t have to understand it or share the same feelings, but damn it there’s no need to make them feel bad about it. 

My means of experiencing joy do not revolve around others’ comfort levels. And I refuse to seek joy for anyone else’s sake but my own.

I personally don’t believe that life is about being happy, and that the definition or expectation of happiness tends to borderline on toxic positivity. I believe in being aware and present with all emotions and experiences, whether they feel good or bad. Anger, pain, sadness, loneliness, and emotions that we would otherwise deem negative are all there to teach us something. Denying them and only trying to force ourselves to feel something that is not true only sets us up for trouble down the road. 

Yet there’s also a big question: What if we don’t have the emotional capacity to support someone in what they’re going through? It’s a very hard question to answer, and one that I don’t entirely have an answer for. I’ve been in several situations where I was on the supporting end, and it was extremely difficult for me because I had such a biased perspective, and there was often physical distance, so I couldn’t just get up and go be with them. I had no idea how to set boundaries without the fear of being accused of abandonment, or centering myself. It was all very stressful, very triggering, and ended up exacerbating what I was already battling myself. The worst part was that I didn’t tell anyone for a long time, out of shame and not wanting to be told what to do. 

But here’s what I do know:

There’s a huge difference between being a supporter and a caretaker (no one person should be a caretaker, and if you feel like that, it’s time to talk about getting a professional involved). 

You’re not a bad person for setting boundaries, such as not keeping your DM”s open or having your phone by your bed all night. Unless someone makes a specific request and lets me know that it’s only for a short amount of time, I no longer do that. 

You’re allowed to back away from people or situations where the conversations are going around in circles, and the person has the means to get outside help but refuses to even try. You are their friend/child/spouse, etc, but that does not mean you have to be their therapist. That’s how trauma bonds happen, and most of the time, those bonds aren’t healthy. 

I may not be able to handle certain things emotionally, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to be there in some way. I’m more than willing to help someone find a therapist or support group, sit with them as they make that first appointment, and go with them once or twice to help them settle in. 

And yes, I know that getting professional help isn’t entirely black and white. There’s a matter of finding someone that you connect with, along with what you can afford. Some places have a very long wait list to even do the initial intake. It can be hard if there aren’t any virtual or over the phone options, or if you don’t have transportation to go in person. All of this needs to be talked about and addressed as much as we do with stigma. 

We can choose compassion. 

We can choose to learn and practic empathy. 

It’s not enough to just say that you’re not alone. We need to show up and prove it.

Bookends and Bows

How do you write about a season

Equally joyful

As it was

Difficult and challenging

And sometimes down right frustrating

Babies were born

Families came together

Opportunities found

But then

Life became

A slip and slide

A lot of unknowns

And come from behind’s

My body

Consistently strong and seemingly unstoppable

Suddenly experiencing the unexplainable

A lack of balance

Without a source

Finances uncertain

Going up against a system

Twisted and corrupt

Fighting for what is for many

A livelihood

Relationships tested

Often all a process waiting

Sending love when appropriate

And praying

A scale of “thy will be done”

Versus our current culture

Of hustle

Proving worth

And burnout

While asking for support

And being vulnerable

Realizing how silly it sounded to say

“I’m fine”

“I’m tough enough”

“I’m okay”

In those situations

The hurting ones

Often being the ones offering 

A sense of comfort

A faux cherry on top

When in reality

There aren’t concrete answers

But what if there’s a different way?

A learning to openly admit 

“I don’t know”

“Day by day”

And that’s all right

To learn to listen to one’s body

Powering through some days

Surrendering the next

A come through instead of a come back

Continuing to grow

Not on my own

But with the support

Of those that mean the world to me

Rest

Move

Release

Repeat

Without a pretty bow 

Without a period at the end

But a combination of grit 

And grace

And being human

I learn

Adapt 

And Adjust

When You Struggle With This Type of Advice

It’s something that’s given without hesitation, especially when we see or hear something that makes us feel some type of way. 

It’s often given under the guise of health and well-being or self improvement. 

And if you asked me to give a split second answer, I’d say it’s one of my biggest pet peeves.

 I came across a thought that said “unsolicited advice is an indirect form of criticism.” I ran a poll on my Instagram account, where fifty-six percent of voters said yes, and forty-four percent said no. It generated some thoughtful responses in my DM’s, and I even shared some of my own thoughts afterward. But I’d like to go a little deeper here. Unsolicited advice is something I’ve gone back and forth with for as long as I can remember, and from what I understand, it’s a deeply polarizing issue between the Disability Community and nondisableds because of being heavily rooted in ableism.

I was fortunate enough to feel incredibly supported as a child. I needed encouragement and to be reminded of what I was capable of, even if in retrospect I became the poster girl for the “overcomer” narrative (the idea that if you just try hard enough, you can somehow live as though you don’t have a disability). I developed a sense of determination and grit, and I probably wouldn’t have achieved what I have (thus far) without it.

But once I hit puberty, those sentiments of wisdom began to feel a little bit off, even to the point of being patronizing. I understand now that those closest to me were just trying to protect me from the mine field that is middle school (especially when it came to “mean girl” culture). Yet everything I tried to do seemed to backfire. Example: when I tried to not be a geek, you could in fact tell that I was a geek. I didn’t have the language or the emotional capacity to communicate what I needed and how I needed it, and I struggled with valuing who I was as a person for a very long time. 

To be clear that the impact of unsolicited advice very much depends on who it’s coming from, the situation itself, along with the timing of when the advice is being given. From a broader perspective, it can be self-centering, an attempt to show that we know more and/or are better than the person on the receiving end. A subtle projection of our own fears and discomfort, sometimes in the hopes of getting that person to take action (I’ve experienced this enough to know when it’s happening. Sadly,  it can end up erasing the person’s experience and feelings entirely, prioritizing our need to problem solve or satisfy a savior complex. 

As hard as it is to not immediately react in the face of someone else’s stress, grief, trauma, whatever it may be, the first step is recognizing that there’s a better approach. I’ve learned that it’s important to gather as much information as possible and to make sure I understand what’s happening before I offer any type of response.

 Asking specific questions such as “Do you want my perspective, or do you want me to just hold space for you?” “How can I support you?” “What do you need right now?” are much more helpful than automatically launching into “Have you tried x, y, z?” Or even more cringeworthy, “This is how you…” [insert overly simplified task]

The reality is that not every scenario has a solution. Not every situation can be fixed, at least not right away. Our culture has become so used to instant gratification and this need to address things immediately, that we don’t know how to just sit with people in the waiting, the pain, the unknown. Anything worth having in life takes time, patience, and perhaps even pivoting, especially when it doesn’t feel good. When someone is brave enough to let another person witness their vulnerability, that should not be taken lightly. It’s a gift, and an indication that they value your relationship to where they’re willing to share what they’re going through. When all is said and done, the best thing for them at that moment is to share their experience with you. 

And if for whatever reason it’s too painful to hold space and be with them, then own that and take responsibility for it. Full stop. 

But what if someone needs to hear something, to be pointed in the right direction?

Yes, I’ve been there. Again, it comes down to what you say, how you say it, and when. 

At the end of 2021, I shared that I’ve been on a health journey in terms of experiencing chronic pain and fatigue. On one side of the coin, I’ve gotten a lot of  (repetitive)  comments such as needing to eat more, that I’m getting too skinny again, and “you used to have boobs, and then you lost ‘em!” 

However, a couple of months ago I was having a conversation with a very important person in my life about where I was at, both physically and emotionally. We started to discuss what exactly I was putting into my body, and whether or not that might be a contributing factor in terms of the pain. It meant the world to me that he frequently reiterated that this wasn’t about weight, that he cared about me, and that he wanted me to physically feel better. There was compassion, acknowledgement of not having all the answers, and that this was a process and not an instantaneous fix.

Take a guess as to what I was more receptive to. 

If you’re on the opposite end, you’re allowed and entitled to set boundaries with people. This is difficult for me, because it’s occasionally met with guilt-tripping and being told “Well I’m only trying to help!” Not everyone understands or accepts that impact is always greater than intention, and that you can still stand firm, even if those boundaries turn out to be more for yourself than for your relationships. 

And depending on the nature of that relationship, how you go about it might look a little bit different each time. 

“I know you mean well, but that’s not what I need right now.” 

“I respect and appreciate you, but I’m also not in a headspace for what you have to say. Can I let you know when I’m ready to talk?”

“That’s actually more hurtful than helpful.” 

“I’d rather you just listen and let me get this off my chest.”  

And if it’s coming from a complete stranger, or the person just doesn’t respect what you’re saying, you can let it go in one ear and out the other. 

Just because someone is giving advice doesn’t mean that you have to take it. I’ve actually become more selective about who I confide in and what I choose to share with the world because too many different opinions gets overwhelming. To some, it looks like I’m bottling up my emotions and holding everything in, assuming that I don’t want to talk at all. But really, I’m just doing my best to take care of myself. 

The irony of writing this is not lost on me, because my entire blog seems to center around how I go about life and how I do things (albeit it’s only from my personal perspective, and I don’t write it as gospel). And if this all makes you uncomfortable or defensive, maybe it’s time to take a step back and ask yourself why. 

I’ve tried typing out a closing to this several times, and it’s hard to come up with an ending because I’m still a work in progress on the subject. I can be stubborn, and have a tendency to dig my heels in on various things. I’m aware that I might get pushback on this, considering I’ve been told to shut up and be grateful when help is being offered. But I have a keen sense of when that help is genuine, or when it’s coming from a place of assumption and generalization instead of nuance. 

Unsolicited advice can be a form of indirect criticism. There needs to be a balance between constructive criticism and giving praise, because constantly promoting the first one leads to a slide in self-confidence and increasing emotional isolation. 

We need to leave room for growing in empathy, and allowing people (especially Disabled folks) to take up space.

When Your Career Feels More Like A Maze Than A Path

Upon entering into the workforce, there will be a lot of talk and emphasis on what trajectory your career is going to take. Most likely, you’ll be baptized by the waters of having to do at least one internship before graduation, and maybe even a few afterwards. There’s the pull of the glamor of working in a high-rise office, having a partially built-in social calendar, and all the perks that come with the job itself. People told you that this was the hot new thing, where all the money was at, and you wouldn’t be guaranteed employment for longer than six months if you stuck with your original idea. The possibilities made you feel like the world really was your oyster!

But first you had to pry it open. 

Which at twenty-two and twenty-three is fairly normal, in retrospect. The bare minimum has practically become a rite of passage, and any experience is a good experience. You have to pay your dues and show that you are worthy of the career that you’re pursuing. You’ve been told that hustling and grinding will pay off some day. But what about when a pattern starts to emerge? What about when you realize that your field has changed, and it seems like just qualifying for a role seems like more stress than it’s worth? What about when you don’t know if it’s you or them or something that’s completely out of your control?

To be clear, I’m not a career expert. I thought By now I thought I would have been further along in my journey, and thought that I would have overcome a lot of barriers that many Disabled folks tend to face in the workplace (for the longest time, I thought I could pass as nondisabled in a professional environment. And depending on the eye of the beholder, maybe I did). Sometimes I wonder if there’s a piece of the puzzle that I am missing, or if some things are so ingrained systemically and no one will ever explain how to truly break through it. Sometimes it comes down to knowing what questions to ask, and that often takes a lot of time, courage, and running into dead ends. 

What Do I Want, And What Can I Tolerate?

The first time anyone ever asked me about what I wanted for myself professionally, I had to hold back tears. Since graduating college, all I heard was something to the effect of “a job is a job, and you take what you can get to support yourself.” This attitude can be appropriate when you’re just starting out or if you must do whatever is necessary to financially survive. 

Simultaneously, it can also be dangerous; in my early twenties, I often overlooked warning signs in job postings or management styles within the organization. I ignored my gut when certain practices felt out of line, and I didn’t know how or if I should speak up. Just this year, I took a position without doing an interview (the company wanted to hire me right away, even when I asked to have a conversation beforehand). I received very little support from the get-go, expectations were unrealistic, and management was just flat out awful. I can say without question it was one of the most toxic environments I’ve been in, and I regret having said yes in the first place. 

It’s not always about finding the right niche or an appealing job title. It’s important to consider company culture, work-life balance, and whether or not you’ll be paid a livable wage. 

And sometimes you reach a point where your dream job doesn’t necessarily seem feasible, and that’s okay. Marketing itself has changed so much since I first got into it (and if I’m honest, I went into it so that I could still be creative and not live like a starving artist), and so I’m starting to explore other trajectories where I can do meaningful work and still have time to be creative on the side. Ideally I would love to do copywriting, but if there are just as many (if not more barriers) as marketing, I’m also open to doing project management/coordinator, communications, data entry, or something along those lines. Again, it’s not about specific titles, but doing something that doesn’t make me miserable or drains my mental health trying to get into it, and then trying to function in it. 

Who Do I Talk To?

It’s said that who you know has more influence on getting the job you want than actual talent. One of the first things I learned about networking was to not just rely on recruiters, but to talk to people who come from similar backgrounds, and/or are currently where I want to be. There are several ways to go about this, whether you do in person networking events or stick to the online route Linkedin or Shapr (a Tinder/Bumble style phone app, but for business). Linkedin can be downright intimidating, and the key is conveying the right message: what you have in common, what you want to get out of the conversation, and acknowledging that you know their time is limited and appreciate what they have to give (it helps to have Linkedin Premium, and if that’s not an option, it’s entirely possible to do a little research and find email addresses). It took me several years to learn how to do this, and I don’t always get the kind of response that I want, if at all. It’s easy to assume that no one has time or that it feels intrusive, but I will say that there are people out there who can empathize and are willing to pass on their wisdom and insight. Sometimes all it takes is one person to open the door to an opportunity. 

Finding those who specialize in career coaching and advocacy can do wonders as well. Kelly Nash (of Lipstick and Ink), who has become a dear friend and mentor, walked me through a lot of questions that I had about transitioning out of one field and into another (I knew what I wanted, but overthought the crap out of how to get there. And I’m still working on it). Jo Hamilton (at Expertise At Work) has helped me navigate finding work and being in the workplace with a disability, because it’s a bit of a different ball game when you need accommodations or extra support. 

I will say that you should be wary of being vulnerable with those whose advice might be a little biased. If there’s a generation gap, they might not understand that what was applicable decades ago (or even right before the pandemic) isn’t necessarily applicable now. If someone belittles you for not trying hard enough or projects their fears and insecurities onto you, I’d definitely be careful. I’ve been accused of not wanting to work, and even shamed at one point for supposedly not having enough urgency. It was isolating and frustrating, as though contributing to the economy was the one thing that made me worthy of existence. It’s much easier said than done, but you don’t have to follow or even listen to every piece of advice that you’re given. Set boundaries with yourself at the very least, and know that you’re so much more than what you do for a living.

What Can I Learn, and What’s My Learning Style?

There are always new skills to be learned, and skills to build upon. In my years post-grad, the tricky part is finding what works best. This opinion is controversial, but I believe that unless you’re going for a higher post-graduate degree (Masters, Doctorate, or PHD) then it shouldn’t require being in a traditional in person or even online classroom setting. There are plenty of certificates through Udemy, Coursera, Linkedin Learning, and others that can be done remotely and at a way lower cost. That route is especially useful if you’re already still paying off debt from undergrad, and/or you’re not sure if getting additional certificates will pay off in the end. 

I loved college and I don’t regret attending a four-year University, because I received more than just a degree while I was there. But over the years (and especially the longer it’s been since I’ve been out of the classroom), I’m realizing that I learn a lot better through experience, using tools and programs every day and building muscle memory. Absorbing and then getting tested on information is rarely helpful for me in terms of actually retaining it, and it’s unfortunate (and frustrating) that so few organizations seem to be willing to let their employees learn on the job, or go through extensive training before or when they start. To be superhuman and try to have every part of you dipped in multiple exclusive disciplines is entirely ridiculous. And there was no way I could have learned everything that seems to be required nowadays back in undergrad, because you had to be in one college or the other. 

If you know what you’re good at and you enjoy doing it, you have every right to proclaim to a potential employer (even when they tell you that being talented at a particular discipline is supposedly not enough). The reality is that people need to be supported and set up for success, regardless of how much experience they have. You cannot shoulder all of this responsibility, especially if feedback is such a rarity. 

Rejection, starting over, and trying to find your way (when it feels like you’re walking in the dark) is both lonely and stressful.  It’s important to not be afraid to knock, and to ask questions such as “How can I improve in this area? What skills can I acquire?” The more you ask and the more direct you are, the more confident you’ll become. 

I’m still in the midst of it, taking things one day at a time and letting myself be imperfect in the process. 

I got this, and so do you.

How I Remember

There’s the process of grieving. And then there’s the intention of keeping a loved one’s memory alive.

Sunday morning

Stepping out of the shower

The Phone Call

A fatal accident

Verbally crying, “Why God?”

And then somehow relaying what happened

With a straight face

Followed by a massive headache from the overwhelm of it all

The surrealness of unexpected tragedy

It was the first time I grieved so openly

Weeping and reminiscing

There was complete feeling from the inside and out

Rather than numbing

And trying to go on 

As if there wasn’t a before and after

Six years later

There are formal remembrances

A fishing derby

A memory garden

But for me 

It’s not necessarily marked by specific dates or events

It’s the little things 

That pop into my head

At the most random times

Like songs

A raucous music festival

Certain beverages

Swing sets, camping gear, and trampolines

My relationship with my hometown 

Once complicated 

A place to get out of 

I now hold it like a treasure

The lake itself is sacred

Our adventures were of an era that only a number of us

Got to live in

Where technology was part of life, but not all of it

We struck gold

And I didn’t recognize how precious it was until later

I don’t wish to go back to it (at least not permanently) 

But I carry it with me

Because it helped shape me, and it’s part of me

For the first time since the tragedy, I’m angry

Angry that a beautiful human was taken so soon

He had more life left to live

He was only twenty-two

Angry that I experienced loss up close, twice in three years

And despite how my life has changed because of it

Some aspects of my relationships have stayed the same

Grudges still held

Pointless arguments

Where words are not carefully chosen

And personal responsibility not taken

I know I’m not the only one affected

But am I of the few that’s learned?

I’m not afraid of feeling

I don’t run from the pain

And when I think about it all

I don’t cry out of sadness

But because it’s just emotional

I want to be able to talk about it

With those on the outside

Who want to know about the most special parts of me

This is one of them

Grief is not something I get over

But I’ve learned to live with

And I lean into it

When the moments come

It’s part of being a deep and sensitive person

All of it will always be part of me

On Disability Pride

Born into a world not built for me

Raised to believe I could overcome such a condition 

Balance struggles

Muscle tightness 

“Walking Right” 

Go the distance

Because I was stronger than all of that

And for a time, “overcoming” worked

It had benefits in childhood

I was an athlete for fifteen minutes

I received praise and admiration 

For being independent

It fed me

It pushed me

Until it sickened me

A once unfathomable choice

Between my health and a supposed purpose

I had only known a few peers 

That could relate to my story, my experience

A story I’ve always wanted to tell

But the tone from said bequeathed purpose never felt right

That narrative is no longer true

My focus on embracing, not ignoring

Simultaneously recognizing

The lack of humanity in the treatment of Disabled folks

Embedded in cultural norms for decades

All due to the discomfort that comes from living in 

And living with

What is misunderstood, and not always explainable

I’m a writer with a platform

I cannot stay silent when my soul 

Is moved to speak

Especially if it concerns

Intentionally Exploited Communities

I’m tired of being told to

“Shut up and be grateful” 

Gratitude and rightful anger can coexist

And it is right

That the Disability Community is given Equal Rights

Livable Wages

Employment opportunities that don’t exclude talent and passion

Accessible Housing and Workplaces

Marrying whom they love (especially in interabled circumstances)

Without risking the loss of medical care or livelihoods

Updating and enforcing the Americans With Disabilities Act

Pride is not only flags and parades and corporate support

It is the right to exist, as we are, without the constant fear of harm or death

Self-compassion, without the need to contort oneself in order to merely survive

The right to thrive despite direct and internalized ableism and discrimination

It’s not just a month, but every day

I will no longer fight against my body, 

But I will speak against the systems

Don’t speak for us, but speak with us

Backslide

I come from a place with the backwoods
All in all middle of the road
Most were well off
Money didn’t talk
But it showed

Came of age at the tail end of “Jesus Freak”
Catholic school with a dress code to boot
Life above all, they said
I understood the intent
But something didn’t sit well with me

Young that I was without the language
To articulate the unease I felt
And the fear of asking questions
Due to fear of abandonment by people
That I’d come to love
Where the response would be that I didn’t love Jesus enough
A bad Christian
Destined for hell

As I got older
I began to recognize
The complexities of situations
Dilemmas
Circumstances
And trauma
Without formulas
Save for a text
That could be open to interpretation
The emphasis and pressure for purity
Mainly carried by women

(At least in Evangelicalism)

And I had my own experiences
Assault
Coercion
Withholding of truth
Manipulation
I traveled far and without company
For testing and checkups
Preparation and responsibility
For myself alone

Waking up to the news of the overturn
I seethed, and am still seething
A better understanding of the uneasiness from long ago
Pro life Communities can mean many things
Especially what goes unacknowledged
Privilege
Power
Superiority and Supremacy
Epitome of White American Christianity
What is belief in God without humility?

I believe in free will and in choices
That bodily decisions are between God and a person
And that sometimes you don’t know what you’ll do
Until you’re walking in a particular pair of shoes
It is not necessarily okay, but complicated, nuanced, and heartbreaking
Freedom of religion exists up until it takes away autonomy
The so called Supreme Court is no longer for the good of the country

And if pro life is truly for life
What about examining its different walks and facets?
Caring for mothers as much as we care for babies
Bringing heaven to earth
Providing comprehensive access to preventative care and education
Stop shaming sexual expression and activity
That’s outside of unrealistic ideals

Helplessness
Empowered only by the tiny smidges
Of what cannot by entirely guaranteed
I believe in power in a collective people
That stand with the marginalized
It’s been a journey, one without arrival
And it’s worth the while

Enough That I Am

Words do hurt
Cutting deep enough
To tear and wound
But what about
What we don’t know?
What goes unsaid
Can be
Even more damaging
Leaving the person to guess
To wonder
And ruminate

I overthink
To a fault
And my thoughts
Can become suffocating
Like waves
That won’t stop rolling
Paralyzed in a fog
Of self-doubt
Insignificance
And insecurity

I know this is problematic
And I’m trying to strike a balance
Between self-soothing
and being vulnerable

Because if enough messages
Can tear a person down
Imagine what a message can do
When we build each other up?

Self-confidence and strength
Do not merely come from digging
Toward within
But simultaneously receiving
Affirmation
Celebration
Assurance
And Grace

Capability
Resilience
Gifts
Reminders of being human

I know what I have to offer
Despite days
When strangers say
Or don’t say otherwise
And I keep on
Despite the anxiety
Trusting my instincts
Sharing and connecting
Praying
Growing
Shining
Amen

Thirty

It’s been a month-long celebration, another year and a new decade. I have different groups of friends/family, and have been trying to stay as safe as possible with Covid still affecting social gatherings (and my comfort level). My friends and I stayed at a hotel for the evening, starting off with a fantastic photoshoot by a dear woman who loves taking and being in photos as much as I do. It was refreshing to take the time capturing different aspects oy my personality without feeling like we were in a rush (i.e. take the photo and get out of the way). We posed, giggled, and cheered like we were professionals, then made our way to one of the bougiest Italian restaurants I’ve been to in a while (it was worth it!) Post tapas and martinis, we stopped at a new-ish neighborhood bar, merely for the sake of scoping out the vibe and indulging in a little tequila. It wasn’t long before the bottom shelf was starting to get to me, and I signaled that my batteries were starting to run out. As much as I’ve missed dancing (and two friends that were sick), I personally felt that the risk wasn’t worth it. 

I’ve been asked several times how I feel about turning thirty. Leading up to the actual day, it felt weird: I’m still living with family, and don’t have as much independence. My career hasn’t gone in the trajectory that I thought it would, and I’m not where I want to be professionally. But over the last month or so, I’ve experienced a sense of coming home to myself that’s been stronger than ever. Ahh, there I am. 

My twenties were a lot: a lot of learning the hard way. Loss. A lot of anger that was actually masked as grief. Twenty-three to to twenty six were the darkest years I’ve experienced since middle school. I have regrets, and I ultimately wish that I had waited to share certain things and be vulnerable when I was sharing from the scar instead of the wound. I projected a lot of the pain instead of letting it go, and damaged several of my closest and dearest relationships in the process. But I wish I hadn’t carried the weight of it all either; at the end of the day it was the season I was in, a season that I’ve been learning from and trying to give myself grace and compassion ever since. 

When the pandemic happened, and as it continues to play out, I’ve been asking a lot of questions: What do I really want? Is this something that’s going to push me forward in life, or am I basing this decision on the fear of missing out (or what people might think)? When it comes to what I’m feeling, is it my instincts or my insecurities talking?

If there’s one word I’m resting on now, it’s being grounded. To set intentions for the next decade feels overwhelming, but this is what I’m practicing in the next year: 

Getting Out of My Head

I’m an overthinker, and it’s one of, if not my main weakness.I believe in a time and a place to acknowledge feelings and triggers, but ruminating leads me down a rabbit hole that can become paralyzing if I’m not careful. I started writing in my journal again at the beginning of 2022, but making shorter points rather than long, drawn out diary entries. I’m prioritizing spiritual nourishment, physical movement (especially outside) and reading more books instead of being on social media. And with the help of my therapist and developing better coping skills, I’m trying to heal various attachment/abandonment wounds.

Protecting My Energy

I believe in being vulnerable and telling the truth, but I’m more discerning about who has full access to me. I believe in spontaneity, but I really have to trust you if you’re going to call me up after 7 p.m. and ask me to get together. I believe in discussing different opinions, but I can sense when people want to argue for the sake of arguing. I’m not an argumentative person by nature, so emotionally I tend to shut down (despite knowing that most conflict is actually healthy). And I absolutely refuse to run myself ragged until I’m sick from exhaustion, which was common for me to do a decade ago. As much as I want to still experience life, I ultimately want to feel safe and stable. I need rest and relaxation as much as I need togetherness and connection

Holding Loosely

Whether it’s money or my cell phone battery, I’ve clung to it with an iron fist. For as long as I can remember, I’ve had this deep-seated fear of not having enough financially, or running out of money because I spent it on silly things. Much to my annoyance, I was given the nickname “el cheapo” despite knowing these fears stem from how I grew up. That being said, I’ve been fortunate not to have certain income-related stresses; the best thing I can do for myself is be aware, budget, and trust that what I have in that moment is enough (even when it doesn’t feel like it).

Setting Goals, and Leaving Room

I want to write, and to share my story on larger platforms. I want a space that I can call my own, _that ideally both gives me access to the suburbs and the city. I want a romantic partner, someone that feels like home with, rather than just someone to come home to. I’d like to have a family of my own, even though I’m not sure what it looks like at the moment. I used to be so set on certain things a decade ago, and I had a rather glamorous vision of what it should look like.. But what I thought I wanted at that time may not necessarily be what I need in the long run. It’s important to pursue your dreams, but even more so to take stock of them and not be afraid to refine them. When you hold space for the unexpected, that’s where the amazing happens. 

Here’s to new adventures. 

Here’s to new seasons. 

Here’s to thirty.