Simple, Happy, Uncomplicated Life.

"I'd always believed that a life of quality, enjoyment, and wisdom were my human birthright and would be automatically bestowed upon me as time passed. I never suspected that I would have to learn how to live -- that there were specific disciplines and ways of seeing the world I had to master before I could awaken to a simple, happy, uncomplicated life."

blank.

Our parents and teachers tell us to live strategically. We always have a question to answer. "What do you want to be when you grow up?" "What college are you going to?" "What will you major in?" "What type of wo/man do you want to marry?" "Do you want to have kids?" "What type of job will you work?" Who? Where? What? When? Why?

The people we admire tell us to live in the moment. "Live as if you'll die today." "Life is a journey, not a destination." Blah. Blah. Blah.

All I want to know is: how the fuck am I supposed to find the happy medium? Clearly I have to answer a few of those questions. The bills won't pay themselves. But why? At the end, none of it matters. God won't care if I made $30,000 or $100,000/year. He won't care if I went to community college, a HBCU or only got my freaking high school diploma. So why does all of that matter? It's just extra. Filler. To stress, impress and depress. It's exhausting.

I've come to my annual crossroads. The moment I have, every year, when I decide what I'm going to do with the next couple weeks, months, years of my life. It's exhausting. I just want to find a place where I can love and be loved and have good people around me and no pressure. No questions. Just life. I want to LIVE!

“For women who ...

“For women who are tied to the moon, love alone is not enough. We insist each day wrap it’s knuckles through our heart strings and pull. The lows. The joy. The poetry. We dance at the edge of a cliff, you have fallen off. So it goes. You will climb up again.
You rare girl, once again, you have a body that belongs to no lover, to no father, belongs to no one but you. Wear your sorrow like the lines on your palm. Like a shawl to keep you warm at night. Don’t mourn the love that is lost to you now. It is a book of poems whose meters worked their way into your pulse. Even if it has slipped from your hands, it will stay in your body.
You loved a man who treated you like absinthe, half poison and half god. He tried to sweeten you, to water you down. So you left. And now you have your heart all to yourself again. A heart like a stone cottage. Heart like a lover’s diary. Hope like an ocean.”

Letter From Anais Nin to Clementine von Radics

"If I Could I Would Give You The World.."

In a reflective talk today with my mom about my life and my feelings about myself, she said something that really stuck with me. "Loving yourself does not mean that you have to like everything about yourself. The things that you don't like about yourself, you can change." My mom had me when she was my age (24). She grew up not loving herself because of the actions of other people (family included). It wasn't until recently that she was even able to love herself and understand that she was worth being loved.

During our conversation, my mom brought a picture of her and her twin, my aunt Janine, into the room. After asking me which one was her (haha - she said she was the more "mature looking" of the two), she said that she wrote a letter to her self as a baby. In that letter, she spoke about how she let her down for not loving her enough. Not loving her in the way that she deserved to be loved. Not loving her in the way that all babies and all of God's children deserve to be loved. This spoke volumes to me so I went and pulled this picture up of myself.

The baby in that picture deserves to be loved. She deserves every GOOD thing this world has to offer. That baby though, is ME. I have to love her in the way that my mom and dad and stepdad love me. I have to love her MORE than that even. She deserves it & from this day forward, I will love her - unconditionally.

"...but all I can do, is just offer you my love."