Respect

I'm trying to get better about establishing a set of boundaries for not only myself but with the people I choose to surround myself because I'm realizing it's really important to promote general feelings of respect consistently with people. I feel like when you say self deprecating things about yourself in front of other people or you allow people to insult you or push your boundaries all in "good fun" it gets out of hand way too fast. I love my friends but we're 20 and they just don't seem to understand sometimes that when I say "No, that jokes not okay around me," or "No, it's not okay to make those gestures and play around with me in that way," I really truly mean it. And no, it's not me being sensitive, it's me being self aware and setting boundaries because I respect my boundaries and I respect you enough (for now) to tell you to please stop and alter your behavior when you're around me. It gets difficult because I really would hate nothing more than to make people feel like they have to walk on eggshells with me but unfortunately, sometimes they do, because I am sensitive and I do have unique triggers and you do need to treat me a little differently than you may treat some of your other friends. I try to be as easy going, direct, and forgiving as I possibly can be. I also try to be as consistent as I know how to be. If it's not okay with me today, I'm not going to laugh it off tomorrow. If I'm joking about it today, I'm not going to tell you it's off limits next week. Well.....no guarantees, but I try to be conscious of it and stick to what I say.

Another set of boundaries that I feel is important to set as a woman is the way people view and refer to me physically. My past relationship had several issues, many of them my fault, but one I'm still working  through is the way I was treated and viewed physically. It wasn't okay and I wasn't respected and never again will I put myself in a position where I allow disrespect like that to go on. When you have a partner, it's important to remember that they are there to support and love and prioritize you. No, you're not they're "world" but you are a large, important chunk of it and if they don't treat you like you deserve to play that role, then they don't deserve to be a part of your world anymore either. I still wrestle with how I am supposed to view myself physically because it's a balance of being honest about what you can improve upon and whether or not you find it important to be a certain size or look a certain way and then just loving who you are and what you look like naturally, without an agonizing amount of effort. To be honest, having gained weight in my past relationship single handedly ruined my already damaged self esteem. Not because I felt bigger and less attractive (though that is true) but because my then boyfriend essentially refused to be physical with me and couldn't see or love me the way he used to. All because I gained 15 pounds. For 15 pounds to ruin and rule such a huge chunk of my life....it's just upsetting and I don't even understand to this day- why was the effort I put in trying to eat healthier and go to the gym more often not enough for him? Not enough for me?

I got to the point where I would sneak food, have to justify my rationale in deciding to buy a chocolate bar or a burger or some hot cheetos on a weekday when I hadn't even gone to the gym, where I would have to remind him we handn't been physically intimate in over a month...yet again...and that I promised if he paid more attention I'd go to the gym more. He'd nit pick my eating habits in public, praise me like a child when I chose to forgo the shake I so wanted with my burger, stare at me in dismay when I'd get dressed, and grab my sides the morning after a workout to see if I'd gotten smaller. I couldn't breathe in my own home and I couldn't feel okay. I certainly couldn't feel beautiful or wanted. It breaks my heart even now, not just for myself, but for women who go through having to feel this kind of pressure. You know what, I'm single and I eat french fries at two in the morning and some weeks I go without even seeing a piece of fruit and I go to the gym pretty often but that's because I enjoy it...not because I feel obligated to go! Yes, I would like to eat healthier, but I feel beautiful almost constantly and that wasn't true for my relationship days and I don't think that's a testament to my then-partner's character, but a testament to the treatment I allowed. I have a rule for people now- You're not allowed to comment on my weight, what I eat, how often I eat, what kind of workouts you think I should do, or whether you think I've gained or lost weight. You can call me beautiful, or you can get out. I deserve respect and appreciation because I work way too hard on myself to let you try and bring me down or make me feel like less than what I am.

Ladies, please demand respect, love, and support. You deserve the world.

Loss

I've experienced a lot of loss in the past few months. I've lost my home, my relationship, my best friend, and the future I had planned for myself. I feel that I am adjusting really well and I do get through each and every day as best I can without seeming down but I'm really struggling and I just come away feeling so lost at sea. It's really honestly so tough being this island- being my own pillar of strength. I don't have parents to fall back on, siblings to relate to, a boyfriend to make a home for me, or even really a close knit set of friends yet. It's all a process, and I get that. But damn it if I didn't get dealt a process far more complex and trying than other people have been dealt.

I start my days feeling overwhelmed and unsure about what my next move will be. What it has to be. Being financially independent is terrifying. Not knowing how long you'll be able to feed yourself, worrying that life will always be as difficult as it is now- that you're not strong enough or even hard working enough to get to the next stage in life....worrying that everyone views you as "poor" or fiscally irresponsible or just sad. I get so frustrated even talking to some people my age when they tell me about the struggles the face, I'm just so envious. I'd kill to have parents to argue with over what classes I should be taking. I'd kill to have parents who even took an interest in where I was and how I was doing and what my plans for the future are! I'd kill to not have to worry about how I'm going to pay for health insurance and what I'd do if my car broke down and how am I going to pay for school next semester? I feel so much pressure...all the time. I also am now very aware, being single, how much better people respond to you if you seem like you have EVERYTHING covered and handled and you have a smile on your face. I've got this "I've got it" attitude down to a T and when you're around me, I'm fun, I'm happy, I'm lighthearted, and I am as easygoing as I can possibly be because I've realized in order for people to receive me and take me in and be able to process me- I need to come without baggage. And unfortunately, when people get to know me, they perceive me as someone with a ton of unwanted baggage.

Being thrown into the dating world is totally fun and totally heartbreaking. I see reflections of myself over and over again in all these interested prospects. I like some of what I see, and hate most of everything else I see. I realize now that people actually do perceive me as very attractive (for the most part) which is great and has helped to heal some of my wounds from my past relationship but I also see and hear a lot of what I've been hearing and seeing throughout most of my life. People fall in love with the idea of me and the idea of "rescuing" me. People with dysfunction in their own family fall for my own dysfunction and the way I mistreat them. I make people walk on eggshells and feel nervous and afraid constantly, worrying the next thing they say might set me off, hurt me, or anger me. People feel like relationships with me are one sided- that I never really give, I am very closed off, and can be exceedingly critical considering how sensitive I am. People realize after the initial intrigue- seeing that I'm attractive, I put effort into myself and my appearance, that I work hard, that I'm mysterious and that I'm a real serious fighter- that despite all of my great qualities, I still do indeed come with a lot of baggage. Too much baggage for people my age or without colored pasts to handle. I want to be perceived as warm and strong and understanding and consistent but so far, all I've got down is the "strong" part. In being exposed to the dating world and new interactions, I've realized that I still feel like I'm just too much for one person to handle....for someone to want to handle. I still feel like a burden and an imposition and it's frustrating because I want love. I just don't feel like I'm quite at a place where I would know what to do with it or would deserve it just yet. And that's a very sad reality to sit with.

Having lost so many loved ones and what I associated with "home" all at once only makes me feel like I've done something to push away what I want and need and I'm very frustrated with myself. I'm also frustrated with the people I chose to surround myself with.

Every day I try to try a little harder but it's a definite uphill battle and life gets tough when there's no one to truly share with who understands and experiences what you experience.

Qualities

   As a newly single lady, I’m experiencing an overflow of offers! Relationship offers. (And lewd, sleazy comments.) You’d think I’d be flattered and encouraged about the dating world I now get to experience but I’m really just overwhelmed and almost discouraged. I get in this way, where I can’t get past the initial excitement of “Oh my god, someone is interested in ME? I better reciprocate; this doesn’t tend to happen for me. Really, who would be interested in these damaged goods?” It’s really a terrible way to do things. That’s why that’s not how I’m doing things anymore.

   I keep telling myself “Don’t accept scraps!” I’m not damaged goods. I’m just complex. Wise for my age, even. Just because someone is interested in me or has some qualities I love (and some I don’t) doesn’t mean I need to jump right in and accept something or someone who is less than right for me. Damn it, I deserve the whole package and so does my future partner! Besides, I’m newly single and I really need a serious relationship like a hole in the head….That is why I am making a list of the qualities I want in a partner. A list of requirements, if you will. I think we all have one but it’s hard to be honest and admit, “Hey. I want and expect a lot out of my partner to be.” This is someone you’ll be spending an awful lot of time with. Someone you’re trusting your heart with! You better be honest with yourself BEFORE you start dating, instead of several years in. If you only want a man with blue eyes, loves dogs, and never wants children, then you better find someone who meets those qualifications. A relationship is a two way street and you know to put your best foot forward. You should always want and expect a lot of yourself. Why not find someone who expects the same things of themselves?

   Sure my list is insanely specific and asking a lot of a person but am I in a hurry to find another person? No. I should be working on completing myself and being my OWN support system. Relationships are supposed to add to your life, not BE your life. Should I come across someone, though, you better believe I’m making sure they have the qualities I’m looking for because settling does not make for a happy future.

   I’m looking for a man who is kind and generous and thoughtful and patient. A man with depth and an understanding of what it means to struggle and pull through. I’m looking for a man who absolutely loves kids, can enjoy Disneyland trips with me, and likes to watch the occasional cartoon or two. Must have delicious arms and a cute butt. I’m looking for someone who can make me laugh but who doesn’t make jokes at other people’s expense. I’m looking for an intelligent man who doesn’t need to remind everyone just how smart he really is. I’m looking for someone who’s not too big on politics but keeps up. He must be pro gay marriage, not “grossed out” by RuPaul’s Drag Race, and is pro choice. He’s got to have his shit together. He must have a passion, be passionate, and be somewhat creative. He’s got to love driving around with loud music and the windows down. Must love dancing with me.  He’s got to be totally masculine! Must love hitting the gym and knows how to eat healthy, but not too healthy! He’s got to be thoughtful enough to occasionally see romantic movies with me, surprise me with flowers and love letters, and he absolutely must love Christmas. Must be down to earth. He’s got to be a snappy dresser and at least 5’10”! Must respect women. He’s got to call me on my shit in a way that makes me both more aware of my behavior, and more comfortable in my relationship. He’s got to be a decent communicator. Must be a bit of a foodie, or at least not at all a picky eater! He’s got to love being goofy and serious. He’s got to be faithful, respectful, nurturing, and insightful. Must love animals! He’s got to love my quirkiness and be beyond proud of the woman I am. He’s got to think I’m a fox and know that I work hard on myself. He’s got to appreciate me and know that I appreciate him. He’s got to be my partner. Must love sweets! Must enjoy Indian food and ethnic food in general. Must be spontaneous but also extremely consistent. Must have time to be in a relationship! Has to love cuddling and falling asleep together. Has to like the way I look with and without makeup and cute outfits. He has to treat me like an adult. Most importantly, he’s got to be loving. 

Love and Companionship

   I recently went through a breakup. It wasn’t at all how I imagine breakups to be. We’d been together for two and a half years, we were bonded like family, we lived together, and we definitely looked like a happy couple. He was sweet, intelligent, creative, thoughtful, and had substance. I’d like to list MY positive qualities when it came to me as a partner, but I can’t think of many. I go back and try to figure out- at which point did things start going poorly? Unfortunately, I’ve come to the conclusion that, separately, we are two great people, but together- as we are now- we’re terrible together. I was jealous of his loving and supportive family, how “easy” he had it, and how “figured out” his life was. I was resentful and angry and just plain unsupportive.

   One of the last things he said to me before we realized things weren’t going to get better was, “You’re the most selfish, unsupportive person I know. No…wait…..I take that back. You’re giving and supportive towards everyone else BUT me and you’re supposed to love me.” Major ouch. Hurtful but true! Damn coping mechanisms.

   I think, more than anything, I was crushed to be told I was less than perfect. I thought I had been so loving, supportive, and available.  It hurts to admit defeat and walk away from someone you told yourself and everyone else you wanted to spend your life with. It hurt worse to walk away from the one person who promised me love and companionship. I wouldn’t take back my relationship or do things differently. I loved living with him, sharing moments with him, and having an adventure. We learned an incredible amount about ourselves and I’m genuinely grateful for the lessons I’ve learned and the stability and kindness he provided for me.

   I realize now, in hindsight, I don’t fall in love with people- I fall in love with the fact that someone loves me. I also realize now, that’s not at all what I want and that’s not what I, or my future partner, deserves. When you come from a place of feeling just shocked that any person could love YOU and like YOU, it makes it hard to step back and think, “Can this person really give me what I want and need? Are we truly compatible?” You accept what is given to you because you just can’t get over how good it feels to finally have some positive attention and affection. I’m learning now how to separate what feels like love and what is actually just companionship.  I’m also realizing that being selfish and jealous and hurtful, just because you hurt and have been hurt by your partner doesn’t fly. I’m excited to focus on what it feels like to be me and to discover who I am and what I really like. It’s great to be in a position where you can ask yourself: What do I want

The "Fuck Off" Face

  You're on your way to go grab some milk from your local 7 Eleven or whatever, you're minding your own business, and this guy from out of nowhere "hollers" at you and makes some cliche, not very well thought out comment about how good you be lookin'. First response: ew. Your messy ghetto/hipster look does not impress, I don't want to be bothered, and I'm just hoping you don't follow me for the next several blocks. You shoot him the "fuck off" face, as I like to call it. Second response: I'm feeling pret-ty swanky-sexy right now. I DO look good. This turned out to be a pretty swell day, excuse me while I post some chipper, douchey, self centered Facebook status about how fly I am. Third response: Do I look good? Was hipster man trying to be ironic? Do I have something on my face?! Perhaps spandex leggings AREN'T my thing!? Excuse me while I go hide and feel embarrassed about how excited I just was. 

   I don't know about you but I pull the fuck-off face out pretty often and I find myself feeling like an ass. One- some of the compliments are totally harmless and quite frankly very sweet, and yet I still find the need to be a I'm-too-good jerk to the randoms. Two-the fuck off face is only to be used on the boys who shout obscene pickup lines out of moving vehicles! Why the face?! Why feel so conflicted, offended, flattered, and hurt by what was probably a 5 second interaction? 

 

   I don't know if this is common for all the ladies out there, or just the ones who find themselves feeling pretty down on themselves but I wonder- why can't we just feel good about ourselves and take a compliment? Obviously, creeper comments coming from creeper men don't merit a silent happy dance, but sometimes, guys really are just trying to be nice (and flirty). I think my response to harmless hit-on-ery generally indicates how I feel about myself. If I feel straight up offended and like I'm being made fun of, I feel hideous and don't really value myself. If I feel conflicted- flattered and skeptical- then I'm pretty much in limbo with myself. If I just feel like the bees' knees the rest of the day, I feel pretty good about myself and very comfortable with where I'm at- not just physically but emotionally too. 

   Ladies, show of hands, how often do you whip out the "fuck off" face?

A Different Stage of Life

   I've lived in Boston for about five months now and I can count the number of friends I've made on zero hands. I recognize moving across country means it takes a while to make friends but the light at the end of the ever-growing tunnel: I'm not seeing it.
    I've been kind of staying away from the whole blogging world for a couple of reasons. Reason number one being- I'm pretty sure my parents know about my blog and I kind of sit around and wait for the bomb to drop- that day when I get a scathing email about how selfish and deceitful and unsuccessful I am. Reason number two being- I have not found any work. True, I haven't been as aggressive on the job hunt front as I should be (my flyers I had printed out a few months ago are sitting in my cabinet next to my box of unopened business cards). But I've had interviews, I've applied to literally hundreds of childcare positions (as well as retail/interior design/random craigslist positions) and nothing. It's discouraging. I'm discouraged because I don't understand- is it my age? Is it the way I come across online or maybe in person? Did I wear the wrong things? Am I too fat? Did I wear too much makeup or maybe not enough? Do I come across awkward or bad with kids? Are my references saying bad things about me without me knowing? Maybe they're reading my blog.
   So I stopped blogging. I set everything to all the "private settings" I'm aware of, I took my name out of the blog title/URL/actual blog and I just don't understand. And if they ARE reading the blog-well...I'm super discouraged about myself and the way people perceive things like sexual abuse and less than shiny backgrounds. Nowhere in my blog do I talk about me getting shit faced, or going out and somehow physically assaulting some random people, and I certainly don't post pictures of me eating babies. I enjoy working with children- I've worked with children in the past and I'd like to say that I did a great job, and I feel like I'm responsible. This whole -not getting hired- thing eats me up inside. I feel like somehow, people perceive me as a monster. Like, because I was sexually abused or because I had an alcoholic parent or because I openly express that sometimes- life is a battle: I'm just super abnormal or a handful or potentially a future abuser. It literally brings me to tears.
   I'm about to come across as ignorant or like I watch too much TV but why is it that gay marriage and teen pregnancies and mega-assholes like kids from the Jersey Shore can be accepted and talked about casually but being the survivor of sexual abuse or rape is totally taboo and awkward? I don't understand why I am the one being judged- being penalized- for just happening to have been through this thing. I feel like if someone says, "My dad used to beat me and my parents are divorced," all they'll get is support and sympathy (as they should) but I feel like when you say, "My mom sexually abused me and my parents are (or are not) still together," it's a whole different story. First of all, nobody knows what to do with that. Understandable. It's a FANTASTIC thing if you can't relate! But the thing that really upsets me is that people start assuming all of these things about you- she must be making it up, or....she doesn't understand what sexual abuse actually is, or she must be really wounded and damaged and weird, or my favorite: I can't trust my children around her.
   So. The job hunt continues I guess. The holidays just passed and I have to say- we have a love hate relationship. I approach Christmas like you would approach hand juicing an orange. I just try to squeeze every last ounce of Christmas-joy out of December as I can. I bake cookies, I buy the perfect tree, I make spiced cider, I light candles, I shop for the perfect gifts and the perfect wrapping paper and I cook cozy meals. Christmas doesn't love me back though because by the time Christmas Eve rolls around, I'm a wreck. I always cry. I always feel greedy and disappointed and unloved and very much so un thought of. My gifts are never wrapped nice enough, I haven't had a chance to listen to enough Christmas music, my dinner didn't turn out well enough, my boyfriend doesn't love the holiday enough, I missed the first half of A Christmas Story, my boyfriend got more gifts than me. His parents love him more than me. His parents love him more than my parents love me (....or...at all.) There are no presents under the tree from any of my family. I didn't get a single phone call, text message, or email wishing me a "merry Christmas" or maybe asking about how I am. How I'm adjusting. Whether or not I'm doing okay financially. No care package, no Christmas letter, no "I love you, Tara." I, for some idiotic reason, half expected Ethan was in on this big Christmas plan, since Christmas was so disappointing, where my brother or my sister or my dad or all three would show up- on my doorstep, presents in hand with big smiles and an even bigger "Just kidding for the past two years, and quite possibly your whole life! We love you bunches, we know exactly what your likes and dislikes are, and we're here to celebrate your favorite holiday with you in your new home with your fabulous, well chosen boyfriend! We're so proud." Did not happen. (Of course.)
   I spent Christmas Eve evening crying...in bed...and went to bed alone, because I of course got into an argument with my boyfriend about how I didn't get the right things, didn't feel loved, and how much effort I spent all month trying to make everyone feel loved and how it felt as though no one really ever thinks to put that effort in for me. Christmas ( and birthdays) just hilight all that you don't have, in terms of family and friends and love. Luckily for me, my birthday comes just three days after Christmas! So it's like a big fun parade of sad. I think I spent the three days leading up to my birthday...also in tears, as well as pajamas. No magical arrival of family on my birthday, either.
   The combination of being new to the area, having no money and no luck with the job hunt, not attending school, and lacking supportive (or functional) family is just far more painful than I expected (and I expected it to be fairly difficult.) It's lonely. It's isolating. It's overwhelming. And it's exhausting. I feel unsuccessful, un-likable, and angry. I want to be one of those 20 year olds who's parents help pay for school or even just offer emotional support and a phone call every now and then. Someone who believes in me and who will be there. I want to be one of those 20 year olds who has friends. I at least want to not always feel that loss- that lack of a mom and a dad and siblings-aunts and uncles-cousins. To be family-less...the feeling that there's this huge void just doesn't go away. I want something to be easy....just one thing, whatever it is.

   I'm at a different stage in life than most people my age. I'm not a partier, I don't go home to see my parents and talk about my finals and annoying roommates, and I don't have people to fall back on. My idea of fun is doing something mellow and cozy, making good food, getting coffee and talking.... I just feel really old... and really young. Today, I feel homesick. But I don't know what or where I'm homesick for. I feel without roots.

Relationships: 6 Facts You Should Know About Leaving the Nest and Moving in With Your Boyfriend

   My boyfriend and I have a bit of an unusual arrangement. We live together, out of the nest, but we used to live together in "the nest" too! I often say my boyfriend is like family to me, and in a lot of ways we have kind of a sibling dynamic (don't get weirded out!) in addition to the relationship dynamic. No matter the dynamic we used to have, living together (on our own) is so different from what our lives used to be when we lived with his family! Here are some of the harsh realities of moving out from your parents' place and moving in together.

1) There is no dish fairy. NO DISH FAIRY! Shockingly, this comes as a surprise to us just about every other day. As I am typing this, I'm thinking about the fact that Ethan and I have no clean drinking glasses OR silverware to speak of. They're all covered in peanut butter, flour, and various unrecognizable leftovers. One of several benefits of living with your parents (or your boyfriend's parents) is, if you have overly loving and giving parents, that they do the dishes. Even yours! I'm talking burnt on food, mashed potatoed bowls, and numerous ice cream and hot fudge bowls. We want dish fairies.

2) Ladies, you WILL become a nagging screechy scary person. Hopefully you won't feel that way all the time- but it's a reality. Why won't you clean without me having to ask you? I asked you five times already- could you please take out the trash. I don't want your dirty socks on the bed, thrown randomly on the floor, or on the dining room table. Please put your dishes away? Remember to lock the door! Feed the cat when I'm away- I don't like dead cats. Why do you have to leave your underwear in the bathroom? Please don't brush your teeth in the shower. I don't want to know when or hear when you clip your toe nails. Don't make the bed that way. Remember to use SOAP when washing dishes, otherwise I have to go in and do them all over again! Turn off the light when you leave the room. Please flush sometimes? These are things I guarantee you will be saying.

3) Things get a lot lonelier. When you move out and on your own, even if it is with your partner, your schedules change and the adjustment can be really rough. Ethan's going to school and I'm not so I'm home long before he is...or even all day and when he gets home, sometimes all he wants to do is play some video games and chill and all I want to do is talk and cuddle and get out of the house. Or pout. Transition is always hard at first, especially when two of you are transitioning at the same time.

4) The money stuff gets more complicated. So- we live together, we're partners, but one of us has more money than the other? Well- your parents are paying for you but I'm paying for myself, and they're helping me with x,y, and z. Do I owe them a certain amount of money because I'm not their child? Do you owe them a certain amount of money because you ARE their child? Should we both work? Who writes the rent check? Who pays for cable? Who pays for furniture- do you pay for it because you're really the only one who cares what kind of curtains and mixer you have? Does that mean he pays for the TV? Well, who gets what if we break up? Oh my god- how am I going to afford moving out if we break up? Maybe I shouldn't pay for anything we share. Is he keeping tabs? Should I?

5) Dating gets harder. My boyfriend and I love each other and we enjoy each other's company but now that we spend so much concentrated time with one another and money is tight, it's harder to "date" and feel like a young couple. We often refer to our lifestyle as "living like 30 year olds" and we love it! But sometimes, I wish we were younger, emotionally. It's not all bad though! We've learned to really love cooking together and getting dressed up just to go to the park or go grab dessert can be really nice and, more than ever, I feel like I have a partner. He's my cozy, awesome, supportive mister.

6) You pawn tasks off on each other a lot more often and being "fair" can get kind of thrown out the window. No body loves taking the garbage out, or going down to the basement to do laundry- especially when you have to lug your shit up and down 4 flights of stairs. I go back and forth between being the dreaded chore-chart girlfriend, and the "I don't want to do that- you do that and I'll do the easier thing," girlfriend. This would be amusing, except your partner isn't your annoying ass roomie you can get away with pushing around....they're your partner you elected to live with and share a bed with, and hopefully, you appreciate. I find it really hard to step back, be less bossy, and get off my own but and share the work 50/50. I also find it hard not to get angry when I'm doing some lame chore and he's getting to lounge and hang out on his computer or do homework. Even if he did just get off from school and he helped out a ton earlier. It's definitely a tough balance.

Sleep Forever Little Baby: A Self Portrait

   I haven't painted or created any sort of art in a really long time. Painting can be a really intimidating sort of thing, and if you haven't done it in a while, it just gets harder and harder to work yourself up to starting the process. I always get so caught up in worrying about the subject matter and how I'm going to actually convey what I'm feeling when I'm painting and whether or not the finished product would be something I'd want to put on my wall (which it never is) but I find that if I blast my music loud enough, make a big mess, and just start going it works out best.
   This painting isn't about abortion, though I know it kind of looks that way. Before I was born, my mom miscarried two children and was left totally scarred by it. After she had me, she'd always tell me how she wished I was the child she miscarried- like she wanted to trade me for something better or wished I had died in her womb too. I know ultimately, it's not a commentary on me, but rather on her and how unhappy she is with her life and how much she felt the need to hurt me and others in general just to feel a little bit okay about herself but, being so young and hearing about how my mom didn't want me- didn't love me. Wished I had died. It gets to me anyway. When I'm feeling at my worst this is all I think about. Sometimes I really just wish I was one of those almost born babies who just didn't quite make the cut. There's something about the bond a mother and child should have that really dictates how you feel about your place in the world. For a mother to not want her child, even after getting to bond with and really watch that child grow is just devastating. It tends to make me feel like I really screwed up somewhere along the road.
   In a way, this piece is about my relationship with my mom.

This piece was made with paprika, turmeric, beets, tea, coffee, beets, colored pencil, sharpie, and plastic packaging.

Chic for Cheap: On a Grocery Budget but Love to Cook and Stay Healthy? Here are Some Tips!

I'm a food snob. There's no way around it. I like making and eating tasty, fancy food. No ramen for this girl. Even though I'm a food snob and I like to eat out, I'm on a budget and I was finding it really hard to buy groceries for under $100 a week. Actually, we were spending between $200-$230 a week on groceries alone! Well, I have embraced "frugal." It's actually kind of fun to learn how to budget! First, I tried switching to only off brand products- it helped, but not a whole lot. I tried buying less meat and only in season fruits and veggies- again, helpful, but not very. Then I realized, accidentally, that Trader Joe's is surprisingly a lot cheaper than your average Lucky's or (if you live on the East Coast) Shaws. Trader Joe's is unfortunately pretty limited, but if you switch to buying all of your fruits and veggies, as well as dairy and bread solely at TJ's and stick to just buying your meats at your local grocery store, you save a ton of money! We've got it down to $75  week now, which we're pretty stoked about. Try it out. Besides, Trader Joe's is way more fun to shop at- plus you can always pick up some cheap seasonal flowers on your way out.

Cheap for Chic: The Eczema Potion

This post is short and sweet. I feel obligated to share, I accidentally discovered that cinnamon mixed with equal parts honey creates a great eczema soother! I had a really aggressive, unattractive patch of eczema on my neck, and after treating my hair with a cinnamon and honey mixture and rinsing it off in the shower, my eczema on my neck disappeared! If your skin acts up, gets flaky, and hates dry winters, please please PLEASE try it out! That is all.

Chic for Cheap: Updating Dated Pieces (Photos taken from Design Sponge)

   Hey readers! Now, a lot of you know how much I LOVE all things interior design. It's one of my passions and I could spend all day shopping in various furniture stores, rearranging pieces, and creating centerpieces for my humble dining room table. These photos and pieces are not mine ( I copied them from http://www.designsponge.com because it is a FABULOUS site) but I'd like to take what I know about being on a budget and having a love for beautiful homes and share with you.
   I actually have a few funky musty antique shops on my street, geared towards poor college students and at first, I was totally discouraged when I went to take a look-see for the first time. There are a lot of cheep, cheesy pieces-totally dated (and not in a good way) and kind of thrown around haphazardly. There's something to be said for presentation when you're selling low end products. It makes all the difference! Dusty, dated, and faded products are a tough sell. Luckily, if you train your eye, you can find some great foundation pieces for your house if you're willing to put in a little time and effort.


So: I'm going to focus on painting and stenciling pieces. Stenciling can take a lot of time and patience (and painters tape) but if you take your time, you'll be totally impressed with the transformation.


I love this piece because of how much I HATED the armoire/dresser monstrosity as is. It looks kind of overbearing and overwhelming and while I'm sure it has its place, I wouldn't put it in my home. It definitely looks great for storage though. I really love what this person decided to do with it. Geometric, simple patterns really modernize things and grey-blue colors are totally calming and sophisticated. The pop of yellow on the nobs give it that extra umph and I kind of hate/love them but the pillow to the left really helps tie the punch of color in and make it believable. Overall, definitely a great focal point for any room.

I'm totally into this desk transformation because it's so doable. I see this kind of desk all the time for as little as $40 and they kind of just sit there. That's great news for you if you want a new project and a fun little desk! All you have to do is slap on a fresh coat of paint, get some various sized letter stencils, spray paint them on, paint the handles a more modern color, and boom! You have a rad desk.





















I dig this. I have to say, I don't know that I have a steady enough hand to paint this on a piece of furniture but the basic concept is great. Pick a strong solid color, paint the whole piece, then paint a strong and simple industrial image in the center. Pretty fucking awesome. I want this for my entryway!

Chic for Cheap: Honey Cinnamon Hair Dye

   Hey guys! So I went through some hair drama over the past year or two and I went a little hair dye, hair bleach, hair cutting madness. Now I'm paying the price! I used to have really thick, long, shiny hair and it grew about an inch per month. After some accidental bleaching, my hair is still relatively thick, but it lost a lot of its shine and was refusing to grow. I still have a lot of breakage and my hair isn't nearly as soft or shiny as it used to be but I'm treating it right and it's on the slow mend. Because I had bleached my hair about a year ago and then dyed it with the color closest to my natural hair color (dark brown with red hilights) my hair is really unevenly colored. For a while, I switched from permanent dye to semi-permanent dye (again, a color that was as close to my natural color as possible) and I felt good about at least treating my hair a bit more gently but I realized, even though semi permanent dye is a lot less stressful on your hair than permanent dye, it still stunts the growth of your hair and I want long lustrous hair! So I've been looking for better, healthier solutions (that are better for my wallet too!)

   I recently discovered using spices and juices as natural hair dye. Having already brown hair, I went with a mixture that would give me slightly darker hair with some red undertones. I also wanted to make a mixture that, if possible, also stimulated hair growth and strengthened my hair. I looked up what various spices and came up with this:

Ingredients:
-Cinnamon
-Paprika
-Brewed Coffee (2x's as strong as you would regularly brew)
-Olive Oil
-Conditioner
-Honey

You really want to play with the amount of each ingredient you use based on the look you want to achieve. I wanted the treatment to double as a hair oiling/deep conditioning so I used a decent amount of olive oil and conditioner (you can also use lotion in place of conditioner if you don't want to waste your fancy conditioner). Applying the mixture can be tricky because the honey makes it really hard to comb through. I would recommend sectioning your hair and applying the mixture section by section then tying those sections up. You have to get all of your hair pretty saturated and leave it in overnight so make sure you don't have a romantic evening planned! I recommend putting a shower cap over your hair and putting a towel over your pillow, as these spices really stain clothing and fabric. Wash your hair out with cold water, initially.

Home

   Never did I imagine being "on my own" would feel this way. Here I am, in a new beautiful and busy city with my handsome and faithful boyfriend in a decent apartment without too many true "financial burdens." I don't have homework, I don't have a stressful job, and I don't have any restrictions.
   For years, probably ever since I was five, I imagined this time in my life differently. I think I pictured a beautiful spacious home complete with an affectionate boyfriend and nothing but the world in front of me. I had so much time to plan things, or really, just hope for things, that this vision I had became so beyond attainable that I'm realizing life is a let down. Or, it feels like a let down. I feel like a let down. I pictured myself to be someone totally different from who I am today. I envisioned this strong woman with a list of accomplishments- tangible accomplishments. I pictured this person who was already into her second year of college at some prestigious school somewhere making beautiful art or being a really great dancer or maybe living across the world doing something else equally fabulous. I pictured myself being and feeling free. I find myself sitting down, trying to write a list- a tangible list- of all my accomplishments and every time, I walk away frustrated because I cannot think of one thing I have accomplished in my life. To have fought so hard, and run so far and not be able to see or feel any of the reward is frustrating and I blame myself. In order to accomplish something, I now recognize, you need to have a certain amount of confidence and belief in yourself. In order to recognize your own accomplishments, you need to be able to see past the things you didn't or have not yet accomplished.
   I'm have this obsession with the idea of "home." What is a home? What separates the word "house" from "home?" I don't think I've got it down yet. I don't know where I get it from, but I think ever since I was  pretty young, I've loved all things interior-decorating. Whenever I would be upset or anxious, I would secretly move all the furniture in my room and hang and re-hang paintings and fabrics and create this little haven for myself. There were actually days, just after I re-did my room that I would fake being sick, just to enjoy my "new room." Well designed and loved spaces make me so beyond calm, it's ridiculous. My dad and I used to go to Santana Row together, all the time, just to visit Crate and Barrel and Pottery Barn- to me, those were the best times. My dad's this geeky Indian guy who doesn't really have much of a keen eye for anything, but when we would walk into a posh little furniture store and I would get all excited about whatever it was, he would get excited with me because he knew how much I loved all of it.
   It makes me pretty embarrassed to say- the highlight of my week, ever since I moved, is visiting Crate and Barrel. I think I go to C&B three or four times a week. I don't know that anybody else gets this way, but when I walk into Crate and Barrel, I get this kind of giddy feeling- like- "this could be me." A place where bedrooms are romantic, tables are set for family and friends, living rooms are cozy, and you are clearly financially comfortable. This is a place where people are happy and loved. I feel like a real creeper, walking around C&B all day- and a lot of the time, I come home and cry for a while, feeling sort of crushed by a combination of self hatred and stupid longing for something that doesn't exist. Something about being there and places like it just makes me so....disappointed. I guess I'm just disappointed with how life turned out? More accurately, I'm just so upset at all the things I know I can't get back, or I won't be getting. I think what home means to me is this place where family bonds and plays games by some perfect fire- where all these beautiful meals are had and memories are made and home is a place where you know you are loved. I don't really know where I got my interpretation of what a home should be, because reflecting on my own life, I've never truly felt at home- like I belong and I am loved.
   Living here in my 1 bedroom apartment, with my boyfriend and my cat, I feel differently than I thought I would feel. I thought the process of searching for "THE first apartment" and picking out all the furniture and the dish ware and the fabric and the tiny details would make me feel at home- like this is MY space and I can feel at peace and at home, but it really hasn't. I keep feeling like I picked the wrong apartment or I picked the wrong furniture or I picked the wrong city or I picked the wrong person to live with and I have to remind myself that it really isn't about any of those things. I think "home" is probably one of those "from within" things and right now, I am not a home for myself- if that translates like I want it to. Maybe that takes a while to create.
 

Getting Fit and Less Obsessed: Confessions of an Overeater

   I like food. I like food a lot. I'm one of those people now, I guess, who you read about. A "yo-yo dieter." I go from exercising hardcore and eating six little healthy meals a day to eating 3 Drumsticks in one sitting, some Hot Cheetos and home-style mac-n'-cheese. I call myself a lot of names. On an average I-ate-my-weight-in-chocolate-and-sad-feelings day, you'll hear me jokingly talk about what a fatty I am. I call my butt/thigh region a "thutt" (you can't tell the difference between thigh and butt). I call myself pancake-ass, jiggly, cottage cheesy, cellulite filled, and just plain gross. I'm pretty damn funny, actually. But, in actuality, I don't really feel very happy about the way I look and I guess it's pretty obvious. I think my issue now is, after moving out from my parents' place- going from not eating very much food and running all the time, to eating three hearty meals a day, sitting around sad and overwhelmed and stressed about the next phase in my life- I gained quite a bit of weight. I don't look like a whale or anything but I keep gaining weight because after the initial weight gain and lack of exercise, I tried to workout hardcore and I seriously hurt my joints. Initially I thought something was wrong with my knees, which maybe there is, but I think more than anything- the additional weight makes my joints pissed off at me. It hurts to exercise. So then I get into this cycle of "Oh my gosh I'm so fatty I can't even go for a 10 minute run without feeling like I'm an old person."
   I'm really trying to work on my consistency and not taking on too much and being kinder to myself- just doing a reasonable amount of dieting and exercise, or rather changing my lifestyle but consistency is tough! I trace my tendency to overeat certain things back to my childhood. My boyfriend always comments on the fact that the only really positive memories I have of my mom are connected to food in one way or another. She nurtured through her cooking and when I'm really sad, I think I equate eating cozy food and specific foods I had as a child to that feeling you get when you know your mom loves you- and I don't have that feeling very often. I don't think it would even be so bad to be an emotional eater....but I just commit food-icide! Moderation is not something I understand... I wonder what the trick to disassociating food from nostalgic memories is.

I think I need a consistency coach, personal trainer, and a nutritionist...and money for those things, haha.

Being an Adult- The Responsibilities of a Sexual Abuse Survivor

   What I am about to describe and divulge to you takes a lot of, I guess you could say, "guts" on my part. It may not even be the most intelligent thing to share with the world but as an advocator for openness and healing, as well as moving on and growing up, I kind of feel it really is something I'm obligated to share with you guys.
   I genuinely believe that there is no such thing as "good" and "bad" people. Only bad decisions. I also believe that people who are mean or abusive or truly scary didn't start out that way- they, more likely than not, were abused as children or adolescents or maybe in adulthood and that abuse will always shape you as a person-sometimes positively, and sometimes not.
   I talk a lot, in my blog, about how my mom sexually abused me (as well as physically and verbally) and I think it's pretty clear I do not like her. As a kid, though, things were different. As a kid, I loved my mom more intensely than any kind of love I've seen someone have for another person. My mom has always been both a very open person, and a very secretive person. With her, the story always changes. My mom would tell me stories about her childhood and I wish I had listened harder. Asked more questions. I find I have so many questions about where she came from, knowing now the things that both she and I struggle with. Maybe having the answers would help me better understand myself.
   My mother was always pretty consistent about the fact that her mom was always pretty cold. It seemed like she nurtured mainly through food, like my mom does. My mom always speaks highly of her dad- he died when she was 16 and she was devastated. I always wonder, though, if he wasn't the most abusive of the bunch. She praises him like he was some sort of god she was graced with but I never heard much about why he was such a wonderful father. I wonder if maybe he hit his children and his wife. Maybe he sexually abused my mom or some of the family? Maybe he was, in fact, a great dad. I know that when I asked my mom- "Did your father every rape you or your siblings?" She gets furious with me. She always responds with, "How dare you speak badly about my father. I love him and he was a far better person than you." I don't know about you, but that reaction just makes me more suspicious.
   My mom immigrated from Austria when she was 3 with her parents and brother and sister, in the fifties I believe. Her mom was jewish and her father was catholic. My mom faced a lot of racism in Iowa and they called her a dirty German. They hit her with baseball bats, pushed her down stairs, and made it really clear that they didn't like her or her background. I think my mom always felt very isolated and just generally unliked- by her family and the people around her. When my mom talks about what she was like as a child and teenager- she reminds me of me and what I was like as a child. She was a quirky creative little girl who kept to herself and hated conflict. She always tried to bring the family together and it upset her more than it would upset most when she felt someone didn't like her. When I picture my mom as a little girl- a very petite, adorable little blonde girl with sausage curls, a pressed dress, and a bow in her hair- I am angry for her and I am angry at whoever hurt her in her past. I stand by the fact that I believe my mom was raped. My mom mentioned in anger or in a drunken slur a few times throughout my life that her brother had raped her. But when I would later ask her about it, she'd get angry with me and say my mind was "in the gutter." Whether or not it happened, I don't know and I have no proof of but I believe with all my heart that she was abused, mistreated, and put in a bad position several times throughout her life.
  My mom is a weird person. She's terrified of being homeless, is afraid of the dark, is constantly in a child-like state, very dependent, irrational, angry, manipulative, and helpless. She has an addictive personality, takes 8 vicodin a day (among other prescribed pills taken in excess) and has a tendency to drink and sneak alcohol and Butterfingers. I've always known her to be on "the verge of committing suicide." She has the lowest self esteem I think I've ever seen a person have. She certainly hates herself more than I hate her, and that's saying something. To her, I don't think there's anything more scary than being alone. She's a very overweight, very lazy, chronic pain person and she is addicted to collecting things and spending money she doesn't have- even if she believes she's the best bargain hunter you can find. She's actually...intelligent? I think? But most of what she knows and talks about these days are Indian soap operas, Clay Aiken, and various TV series. She's a Sci-Fi lover and far to open about her sex life and various blow jobs she's given but when you discuss something sexually-normal with her- she'll literally cover her ears, sing a childish song, or tell you you're crass.
    Anyway- as a child, I really felt for my mom and her stories about her childhood and the pain she still feels today would bring me to tears. People would hear about and see how I was being raised and they would be very concerned and try to comfort me and I always would say, "My mom's just hurting. She means well and really loves me. She just doesn't know how to love herself." A lot of times I would tell people I didn't really care if she loved me, I just wish she would love herself, and I would be 7 or 8 at the time and people would just stare at me- shocked. I understand why, now. See, moving out of my house, away from my parents was great and crucial in so many ways. I didn't understand until I separated myself from our dysfunction that my parent's love for me was very conditional and therefore my love for myself and other people around me was very conditional.
   It's only taken me until now to realize what the aftermath of what the cycle of dysfunction and rape and sexual abuse really is. Here's the tough thing to admit- the thing I really never really say (and the thing you never really say, either, if you've been raped or molested.) I am terrified of myself. When I'm around small children, girls or boys, sometimes I can get myself into this place where I am just hyperventilating, uncomfortable, and overwhelmed with myself. I feel ashamed, anxious, and revolting. That feeling is the IMMENSE fear that I will repeat the cycle. My mom was raped, she raped me- I don't know how people are supposed to interact in a healthy way with children. What if how I interact is wrong? What if I do something? What if I hurt them? What if I break them? What if I damage this precious, innocent life because I am somehow this damaged, gross person? I can't tell anyone. They'll think I've done something to another child. They'll look at me different. Maybe they'll report me if I say something to a therapist? Is this normal? Do all rape victims feel this way? What's the right way to react? How do I heal from this? Do I heal? Am I supposed to not interact with children? I love children and being able to nurture and care for children makes me feel happy and fulfilled. Is that unhealthy? Should I not be allowed to work with children? Will my boyfriend leave me if he knows this is how I feel?
   I'm fortunate enough to have some really great friends, a very loving, understanding, and rational boyfriend, and people who share my experiences. Luckily, with that combination of greatness, I feel okay and not so afraid of myself- not so ashamed- not so alone in my fear. I have a few friends who have come to me in private and asked me, "I get really anxious and unsettled around little girls (or little boys or both) and I hate myself for it. Do you feel that way too sometimes? How do you deal with it?" And, boy, am I so glad they came to me. Not only was it comforting for them to hear that, yes, I can feel that way and I have somethings I do and tell myself to work through it, but it's comforting for me too. That's why I'm sharing (even though it's probably the single most thing I'm mortified to share about.) Looking back on my childhood, my mom's childhood, and my "freak outs" I have- I realize the feeling I get isn't a "desire" to do something wrong, but the fear that some day that "desire" my mom and whoever raped her had. I don't want to be some monster and the thought of being an abuser is overwhelming and scary.
   This is where being an adult just plain sucks. When you're abused as a kid, it's easy to feel like you're still a kid, what is expected of you is the same as what is expected of a kid, and you are as fragile as a kid (or at least that's how I sometimes feel). The issue is, when you feel worried about the potential you have to do damage to another child- it's time to be an adult. Yes, you were abused. Yes, your boundaries aren't always as clear. Yes, being around children is hard for you to navigate. But you have to learn when to be really honest with yourself and gauge your situation. I think it's okay to feel anxious and nervous around kids sometimes, because as a survivor, you are at a greater risk of repeating the abuse and I don't think you need to beat yourself up for being cautious and afraid that that is a possibility- but if you do feel you're at a place where the line between "wrong" and "right" is blurred- you need to remove yourself from the situation, regroup, and maybe have a therapist help you sort through those feelings and fears and help give you perspective.

   It's your responsibility as a survivor to break the cycle, not repeat it. I think, as a person, you always have the choice to make good and bad decisions. It's figuring out which one's which that gets tough.