One day, she looked in the mirror and realized she didn’t recognize herself.
The hair, the lipstick, the eyes were different, yes. But it was deeper than that. For when she looked in the mirror, she saw the beyond, saw the girl she used to be simultaneously with who she was and who she wanted to be–and realized how far she’d come, how much she’d changed, and how far she had yet to go. The unfurling of herself, the unraveling from their expectations and their predispositions and her own conformity had been long and winding. She hadn’t noticed the almost imperceptible changes–the rejected dogmas, the new beliefs, the ignited fire in her eyes. The desire for something more, and the willingness to step up in her high heels and grab it, even if it meant kicking in a few doors. Still, for all she knows she’s achieved, for all the better she’s found, it still scares her sometimes to look in the mirror and see that person she didn’t think she could be. For that’s the thing they don’t talk about; how becoming someone new is terrifying. To step so far out of the comfort zone, to abandon old cages you were trapped in, to wander so freely you can become anyone is to become someone you don’t know sometimes. It’s terrifying to go so far outside the lines you have to make new ones. She’s different now, true, and it’s cost her things along the way. She’s lost friends and connections. She’s lost some of the beliefs she used to hold in her heart. She’s lost perspective of who she thought she was once. She’s lost her reputation as the “always nice girl.” Sometimes, she doesn’t even feel like the same person. But in the unfurling process, she’s also gained things too, she realizes. She’s gained confidence in the knowledge she can do things that terrify her, from getting tattoos to taking ballet classes to pursuing new jobs to listening to her gut when it says she needs yet another new beginning to understanding when she’s not on the path she should be. She’s gained a belief in herself, that she is worthy of respect, of grace, of opportunity. And more than that, she’s gained her voice, not in an Ariel sort of way…but in a deep-rooted, ruffling feathers, I am here, hear me, sort of way. She looks in the mirror and sees the red lips, the fire in her eyes, the long hair. She doesn’t quite recognize herself, but she smiles because she knows that’s more than okay. Because to really live, to really truly find fulfillment, you sometimes have to undo yourself completely. And you might not recognize yourself at first…but as she fixes that red lipstick, she smiles, knowing that’s sometimes what it takes to grab the reins of your life and become the person you were always meant to be.
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Thanks Plum Deluxe Tea for my free tea!
Sponsored (I did receive the tea for free, but I don’t get any money or anything for this post <3)
Since January, I’ve been on a deep self-care journey…eating healthier, trying to find more peace, and trying to take better care of myself all week long. One of the habits I’ve added is a hot tea in the evening along with extra time to read, one of my favorite pastimes. It’s been really fun, too, playing with different flavors and kinds of tea, so when Plum Deluxe reached out, I was so excited! Plum Deluxe Loose Tea A few weeks ago, Plum Deluxe reached out to offer me a free gift of some of their literary lover-themed teas, and I was all game! They sent me:
I gave them a try, and honestly, they’re sooo good! The Comfort Blend is my favorite because it has just a hint of orange and cinnamon, which is my favorite kind of tea. The teas are only around $7 per bag, and totally worth it in my opinion! They have so many fun flavors, too, so this makes a great gift option for your mom, grandma, or friend. They also have a lot of gift set options and a Tea of the Month Club. I’m really a fan of their packaging as well, and how beautiful the tea looks! It’s perfect for a self-care Sunday ritual...or any day of the week. Head over to their website and give them a try…and then come back and let me know what flavors you’re loving! To all the girls whose worth was reduced to a number on a scale by others, by yourself…I want to say, rise above that twisted belief.
You deserve to feel beautiful, worthy, unstoppable. You deserve to know you are a damn Queen. You deserve to feel at home in your body, to eat the cookie without a guilt fest, to savor every tiny part of life just as you are. You deserve to rest when you’re tired, to step off the treadmill, to stop hiding from the clothes you don’t think you can pull off. You are not a number on a scale. You are not a tag on your clothes. You are not the lumps and bumps or a smooth stomach or the thickness of your arms. You are, my Dear, wonderfully, beautifully magic, exactly as you are, today. It’s perfectly fine to pursue the healthiest version of yourself, to eat in a way that makes you feel good, to move your body. It is not fine, however, to let anyone dictate to you that you have to weigh a certain amount to be valued. It is not okay for anyone to make you feel like you would be more worthy if you shed some pounds. It is not okay to live in a status of depravity and punishment. It is never okay to let anyone define you by a number on a scale. Ever. Not your boyfriend or husband or wife or girlfriend. Not your sister. Not your parents. Not your boss. Not that agent who wants to work with you. Not that friend. Not that social media influencer. Not that stranger at the grocery store. Not that personal trainer. And most of all, not you. You are worthy and beautiful and deserving of living life to the fullest. You do not have to be a certain # on the scale to do that. You do not have to look a certain way to believe you are worthy of incredible things. So eat the cookie. Choose joy. Celebrate how your body moves and looks today, as it is. Congratulate yourself on being a whole person, beautiful and magical and true. Live life wildly, boldly, and unapologetically. And never let the number on the scale dictate your worth. Ever. Last week, I did something I never do at Starbucks: I ordered a different drink than my plain black coffee or my iced vanilla coffee. I’d seen a recipe on TikTok for a customized Iced Shaken Espresso and decided to give it a try. And you know what?? It’s now my FAVORITE drink. Like seriously, so good (Order an iced shaken espresso, no sweetener, Oat Milk, one pump of white mocha syrup, and cinnamon on top. That's it!)
I’ve been saying a lot in this space that mixing up your life is so underrated when it comes to making big changes, to finding your passion. So often, we get stuck in routines and monotony. We get up and do the same things, eat the same things, see the same people, watch the same shows, drive the same routes. Our lives become endless days on a Merry-Go-Round. Predictability becomes our guiding light…and then we wonder why so many of us feel a little dead inside. But I’m here to tell you that today, right now, you can choose differently. It doesn’t have to be as big as jumping on a plane and uprooting your life for Fiji. It can be little. In fact, it’s crazy how little changes add up in big, inspiring ways. Take the different route to work. Get that new coffee you’ve never tried. Wear the shirt you never thought you would. Try the new lipstick color. Switch up your exercise class. Try a new tea in the evenings. Put on that show that never quite seemed like you. Put out the fancy plates for dinner. Paint your toenails a different color. Buy a new pen. Go out for dinner on a night you normally wouldn’t. It’s in the little changes that you can rediscover your vibrancy. This world is so big. Ridiculously big. Stop living small. Stop boxing yourself in. Start adventuring more in the tiniest ways and soon, you’ll understand the power not just in mixing it up…but in taking control of your life, today, right now. You can decide to be different, to do something different. And when you understand that principle, I really do believe life opens up tenfold. The Summer Song Excerpt
They always say you can’t go home again, but let me add to that advice. If you do return home to live with your stoic, lawyer father and meddling mother, make sure you’re not thirty with a bankrupt business and a failed romance.
These were the TED Talk-like thoughts running through my mind as I hunched over boxes in the mildewy basement of Tino’s Italian restaurant, thankful there wasn’t a mirror for me to peruse the assuredly disastrous state of my hair. I rolled my eyes at my senseless inner monologue as the wind howled outside, threatening to send the ancient boardwalk restaurant crumbling. “Let’s face it,” I said aloud, admittedly like someone who was one incident shy from a complete meltdown. “No one’s calling your disastrous self for a TED Talk anytime soon.” My shirt covered in food and my mood as low as it gets from what happened before retreating to the basement, I moved box after box, looking for the mysterious serving dish. Plumes of dust and probably death-inducing mold wafted into the air, but I was a bit thankful for the escape. The Italian music blasted up above, and there were footsteps dashing about as the dinner rush was on. My own feet ached from waitressing all night–and not well if I was to be honest. Still, it felt good to have a moment away from the hustle and bustle of Tino’s, of spilled drinks, and of the constant reminder that everything had fallen apart. And just as I had told myself life couldn’t possibly get any worse, it did. Because as I stepped backward, I lost my balance. The bare bulb shined brightly, now illuminating what I imagined was a horrific face as I tumbled down the stairs, the box and heavy silver platters clanging on top of me. I crumpled down, down, down, thinking this was where it all ended—on the dingy steps of Tino’s basement. Maybe they could use the silver platters at my funeral. When I finally landed at the bottom of the stairs, time warping back to normal speed, everything was fuzzy and fading. My entire body hurt, and I felt myself slipping away. But before it all went black, I heard what I thought was a distinctively British voice yell out a punctuated and startled, “Oh no.” Oh no, indeed, I mused as everything turned inky. We hear so many things about how if you keep dreaming, good things happen–and I really do believe that. However, sometimes you find yourself in a season of life where you’re just stuck. Where it feels like the dream is so far away. Where you just keep getting rejected.
That was the inspiration for my book “The Summer Song.” Tillie Ashby isn’t your typical stars-in-her-eyes romance character at the beginning. She’s really struggling–with a failed business, a failed financial situation, a failed relationship, and a lost best friend. When she moves back to her hometown of Ocean City, Maryland, at the age of thirty, it feels like things can’t get any worse. But Tillie’s story is also about how sometimes magical, once-in-a-lifetime dreams and love can come from unexpected, chance encounters. When a UK pop sensation who is hiding for the summer literally runs into Tillie, a series of life-changing events take place. But can Tillie and Leo’s worlds really mesh? Or is Tillie destined for heartbreak again? This is a book about rediscovering your dreams. It’s a book about pulling yourself up from the ground–again and again. It’s a story, too, that reminds us popstar or down on our luck, we’re all just trying to find happiness. “The Summer Song” is a sweet romance ready for pre-order now. Grab your beachy read and find out why falling in love with a popstar can be a bad idea…or so it would seem. To the little girl still inside so many of us
who was taught she had to be small, To be the quiet one, The kind one, The never ruffle feathers one. To the little girl who was taught she shouldn’t chase butterflies Or stare at the stars too long because Life was on the ground. To the little girl who was taught The worst thing of all was to not fit in, To not belong, To not be seen as sweet. To the little girl who quickly became afraid of being Too bossy, Too mean, Too rude, Too loud, Too boisterous, Too different, Too weird, Too much. To that little girl that sits in so many of us still, At the age of twenty or thirty or fifty or eighty, Lingering and whispering to us that We have to be careful or “they” won’t like us, That we have to stay quiet, nice, and delicate still. That we should stay silent, that we should wear the black Dress because that’s what they’re wearing. That we Shouldn’t stick out, that we shouldn’t want something Different. That we should appreciate and say please and thank you For the life we were granted. To that little girl, I say—it’s time to chase The butterfly, to stare at the stars freely. It’s time to get out of that corner we were put in, To raise our voices and to step into the girl We wished they’d have let us be. It’s time to be unruly and boisterous sometimes. It’s time to speak up at the meeting even if they think You’re a bitch. It’s time to wear the sequin outfit or the t-shirt or Whatever you want without worrying about what They’re going to wear. It’s time to stop settling for the life on the ground They told you that you should want. It’s time to be loud, to take up space, to be unruly And wild and FREE. It’s time to chase the butterflies and look at the stars—or Do whatever the hell you want, whatever makes your soul shine. It’s time to get back in touch with that little girl that’s still inside And give her the permission no one else did-- The permission to be who she wants, what she wants, how she wants And to stop worrying about getting permission to live big. What if I make the wrong choice?
It’s a paralyzing question so many have faced in our lives. We ask it when we’re considering new jobs, new houses, new states. The question plagues us when we’re deciding on life partners, on what’s best for our kids, on which puppy to pick. We ask it when deciding what outfit to wear to the Eras Tour, when thinking about what haircut to get, and all sorts of other smaller decisions. The truth is, most of us are paralyzed by the fear of making the wrong choice. But I think if you switch your perspective just a hair, you realize an earth-shattering realization: there isn’t really a wrong choice. As long as your choice is made with a pure heart and intention (meaning you aren’t seeking to hurt someone), then there really isn’t a way you can go wrong. Sure, you might make a choice and realize it isn’t for you. That new job might be a “grass is always greener” kind of vibe or that house you bought might have horrific neighbors next door. That school you picked for your kid might not be the best fit, and that dress you wore to the concert might be kind of uncomfortable. The haircut might not be your favorite or the car you bought might end up doing terrible on your winter commute. Things might not work out like you want them to–but that doesn’t mean you chose wrong or should beat yourself up about it. There is learning to do in every situation. Every choice puts you in front of new people to influence your path. Every choice teaches you a lesson about yourself, about fulfillment, and about who you really are. And more importantly, even if that choice doesn’t turn out perfectly, so what? The beautiful thing about life that I think we sometimes forget is that you can always change your mind. Always. You can pop on a T-shirt you bought at the stand mid-concert. You can save up and find a new house in a couple of years or apply for a new job if this one isn’t the one for you. You can let your hair grow and explore new schools. It won’t be easy, sure. But neither was the first choice, was it? Life isn’t easy. But it also doesn’t have to be as hard as we make it with all the pressure we put on ourselves to “get it just right” the first time around. There are so many paths we can take, but there isn’t a wrong one. Sure, we might get down the road and understand more fully that perhaps the other path would have been better for us. But I think a lot of us need to move beyond the idea that we are “stuck,” that our decisions are a “one and done.” Because even on the “one and done” kind of decisions, we still can adjust down the road. We can’t go back, sure. But we can move forward with more knowledge, clarity, and the ability to make the next decision with more knowledge than we had the first one. What if you make the wrong choice? You can’t. Because even if you make the “wrong” choice, you’ll learn, you’ll grow, and you’ll head down a path you wouldn’t have. You’ll understand life in new ways. After all, I’ve come to believe that the only “wrong” choice is the choice to stand still and stay miserable because you let fear get in the way. “Even an ordinary secretary or a housewife or a teenager can turn on a small light in a dark room.”
These are the words of Miep Gies, a secretary who worked for the Frank family and then went on to hide eight Jews from the Nazis in the secret Annex. Recently, Gies’ story is the focal point of a Hulu series “A Small Light.” This show does a deep-dive into the figure many have come to call a hero, but there’s something absolutely stunning about the show’s portrayal of Miep: They show that she probably wasn’t the person you think she was. Miep Gies is portrayed as a bit reckless, a bit lost, and a bit blunt. She takes the job with the Franks out of desperation and takes quite some time to prove herself. The series follows the ups and downs of her relationship and marriage, her friendships, and her own fears. In short, Gies isn’t portrayed as a saint or the most likely woman to be a hero. And that’s what I loved so much about this series. It really highlights in a way that is emotional and easy to connect with the point that heroes aren’t perfect or made of a different stock. Just like us, they have doubts, fears, impulsivity, love, tears, and everything in between. Miep Gies wasn’t the most likely candidate to do the brave thing she did–but she made the choice to do it. And in a dark world, choosing to be a light is the biggest choice we can make. This series underscored the risk and the daily struggle Miep went through. Everything from getting food in a society that was rationing to not being able to trust anyone were daily battles Miep faced. Through it all, she fought for two years to protect the Franks. We all know the story didn’t turn out in the way anyone would hope for. Still, Miep’s tale demonstrates her quote in a way we can’t deny–anyone, anyone, anyone can be a light in a dark world. So often in modern times, we forget this. We think that to have purpose or meaning in our lives, we have to start a nonprofit or donate millions or give up our jobs to devote ourselves selflessly to charity work. Miep shows that everyone has the ability to make choices, although sometimes difficult ones, to use their daily lives to help others. She reminds us that there is always a way to make a difference, even when it feels impossible. Her story has stuck with me long after the last episode and will stick with me I think forever–because in a world that is complex and fiercely dark sometimes, Miep Gies reminds us that we all have the chance to do the right thing. You can do it all.
Variants of this inspirational quote adorn throw pillows, Instagram graphics, and T-shirts. At first glance, the sentiment is admirable and even motivational. As a big dreamer, I think it’s healthy to remove mental blocks and limitations. I hope everyone can find the courage to strive for their wildest dreams. Nonetheless, I also think if we do a deep dive, this sentiment can be dangerous to your overall dreams and fulfillment. I do believe you can do it all…but you shouldn’t. The problem with this quote is that without us realizing, it seeps into our daily lives and poisons our fulfillment. What’s meant to inspire us to dream big actually chains us down to a life of monotony and lists. We think we should have a home worthy of a magazine AND be the best mother AND the kind of friend who does weekly brunches AND surprise our husbands with romantic date nights AND climb the social ladder AND master how to make perfect enchiladas everyone will love AND do glam makeup everyday AND have mastered silky, shiny hair AND have a hair free body every single day AND do an hour of pilates five times a week AND make sure all the appointments are made AND be spiritually enlighted. AND AND AND. We think we should do it all because we can. The list is never-ending. We run through a rat race believing there is something wrong with us when we are crying in our imperfect bathroom that isn’t spa-like as we think about how tired we are–and how we are failing. We can do it all. It’s clearly us that’s the problem. We must be too stupid or too clumsy or too disorganized or too lazy. Our lives should look effortlessly perfect like we see on social media and from celebrities and from the moms at school pickup. We can do it all if we want to–and so we convince ourselves we want to. We tell ourselves we have to. We dig deep, wipe away the mascara staining our cheeks, and we throw ourselves at the merciless to-do lists once more. The need to do it all is an inferno we cannot escape once we let it infiltrate our lives. On our relaxation days, we look around and see all the things that aren’t quite right, all the to-dos. Instead of soaking in the sunshine, we look at how the deck chairs need washed. When we’re spending quality time with the kids or the dog, we think about how we really should be taking those perfect photographs to get made into that scrapbook we’ll do someday. We shame ourselves for caving and eating fast food and running out of energy to do our insanely rigid workout schedule. We scorn as we look in the mirror because we didn’t use enough self-tanner and we missed a spot shaving and our eye shadow is lackluster. We are hard on ourselves and see every missed item on our list as a failure. We critique. We critique some more. We try to do more because we think that’s the problem. And eventually, all of that “do anything” attitude becomes a life of monotony, a life missing passion, excitement, and happiness. We wake up in our lives that still don’t have everything mastered and feel inadequate, unfulfilled, and like failures, yet we keep trudging along on the hamster wheel that is quickly spinning of its axis. Thus, the thing I think we need to talk about is this: yes, you might be strong, powerful, and smart enough to do it all. Still, that doesn’t mean you should. Doing it all leaves you depleted. You have finite energy, and if you try to master everything at once, you just do a little bit of everything half-assed. More importantly, trying to do it all is a fool’s errand. No one, no one, no one does it all alone and well. No one has perfect, spotless baseboards and clean sinks while trying to work full-time. No one has a perfect body while running the kids to seventeen activities, managing a stressful work schedule, and cooking dinner every night. No one has magazine-worthy hair, makeup, and outfits while being a hands-on mother and making sure the appointments are all made. No one has celebrity-worthy interior design, meals, bodies, makeup, outfits, bank accounts, careers, vacations, and lives like social media wants you to believe. In the real world, most of us are hanging by a thread. We have dirt on the baseboards, we fed our families ham sandwiches while forgetting the dentist appointment and trying to get to work on time. We are cleaning up cat barf while trying to put on a swipe of mascara and blot away some of the grease in our hair as we wolf down a yogurt we hope is healthy. We are trying to iron the pants for the school play while ignoring the layer of dust on all of the surfaces in the house and hoping the squats we did while brushing our teeth count as a workout. We are hoping no one knocks on our door as a surprise visitor because it’s Thursday and we barely made it through the work week let alone picked up a single item strewn about the house. We’re all hanging by a thread. We’re all trying to do everything–and realizing we’re not doing it well. I think the problem is this, though. I think the problem is we all are keeping up the ruse that it’s possible to do it all. We’re all clinging to that “can do” attitude and smiling through as if we’re not all exhausted. We’re swiping the dust away and hiding the remnants of our life in shambles. We’re getting it together just enough to convince everyone around us that we’re doing it all effortlessly. We’re convincing ourselves and our friends that yes, of course we wash the sheets every few days and manicure the lawn and make sure the kids are eating only organic food. We pretend we’re not all dying inside trying to wear fifty hats instead of just the ones we want. We convince ourselves that the world is going to fall apart if we prioritize and let some things go. We tell ourselves we’re being lazy when we want to relax instead of tackling the window washing or the tax spreadsheet or the list of phone calls. We keep up the facade that we’re happy doing all the things because that’s what we’ve been taught. Still, the “can do” attitude is a thief of happiness if you let it be. So I propose that this week, we all take a deep breath and ignore the gunk from the dog on our kitchen wall or the crayon mark on the table. I propose we resist the urge to wear a full cut-crease eye look every day or iron the slightly wrinkly shirt. I propose we don’t feel guilty if we feed our families bags of chips and peanut butter for dinner or if our hair has been in a bun for a week straight. I propose we all take a breath, take a moment, and ask ourselves: What really matters most? Even though I can do all the things, what do I want to do? What will make me feel successful? Certainly, we all have to do things we don’t want to do. But that doesn’t mean we have to strive for impossible standards in all areas of our life. There are seasons for everything. Seasons to work on our killer body, and seasons to cut back to maintenance mode where a walk or chores counts. Seasons for killing it at work and letting the spring cleaning slide. Seasons where we serve all homemade meals, and seasons where cereal is a food group. We have to learn to be okay with not doing it all and instead, doing all the things that feed our soul, that make us feel alive, and that remind us of who we are. We also have to accept that life ebbs and flows, and that it’s okay if our vision of perfect in one area morphs in the next season of our lives. Furthermore, we need to remember that we can do it all–but we shouldn’t have to do it alone. We need to ask for help when we need it and find support systems. We need to be honest with our friends and co-workers and stop pretending this adult thing is easy. We need to stop showing up in the world as these extreme multi-taskers who are wearing a cracked smile over their dead–inside visage. We need to be brave enough as a society to say yes, we are kickass, powerful warriors who can do it all–but are smart enough not to. Who are intelligent enough to know that it isn’t sustainable to do all the things, isn’t fulfilling, and isn’t what this life is about. Thus, we need to change the quote in our minds to: we can do all the things that really matter most–and all the rest can wait. |
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