I was entirely happy. Perhaps we feel like that when we die and become a part of something entire, whether it is sun and air. or goodness and knowledge. At any rate, that is happiness; to be dissolved into something complete and great. When it comes to one, it comes as naturally as sleep.
When people say ‘This is my baby,’ they don’t always mean a baby. Sometimes they mean a dog.
So what? You failed your finals. You gained some weight. So what? You’re single again. You lost your job. So what? What now? You live. You try again. That’s what.
same ole pimp, ma$e, you know ain’t nothing change but my limp
Trying to keep to my Monday writings, even if the day feels impossible.
I had a lot of reasons for my cheeks to hurt this weekend.
Movie nights, bar scenes and even the random subway stops at 4:30 in the morning.
For the first time in a long time, I had some reasons for my heart to hurt, too.
My dad called me last night to tell me that my baby cousin had been jumped. With baseball bats.
I got in bed and shook all over for a long time.
But then I wiped my eyes, calmed my breathing and reminded myself that he is alive and okay.
He is a star basketball player - written up as one of the top 200 players on the whole east coast.
And while his face isn’t fine, his knees are. A fact everyone keeps repeating;
maybe to make the actual facts easier.
But in every bit of ugliness, there’s some beauty, too.
He could have left, there was a car to get into with his girlfriend and his girlfriend’s mother safely tucked inside.
But he didn’t, he saw them attacking his friend and knew he would be killed if he left.
Thanks to that brave act of courage and love, his friend is still alive.
I spoke to my older cousin on the phone,
his words poured straight into my chest.
"I lost one baby brother, I will never lose another."
And thank god he didn’t.
Thank GOD for that.
In every bit of ugliness, there’s a world of blessings, too.
Today, I am smiling again.
Maybe because Kerry Washington has smiled at me several times (#namedrop)
Or just because I realize that every bit of sadness has to be acknowledged and moved on from.
I am living the best version of life that I’ve known.
I met a guy friend for brunch yesterday.
The last time I’d seen him was the last week of my last relationship.
All he kept doing was telling me “you radiate.”
That’s a word I’ve thought of myself several times.
At the end of the day, he said something that my best friend had just said to me the night prior:
"you have the loudest laugh, but I like that about you."
I remember when my laugh wasn’t loud at all.
I remember getting dressed in a depressing bedroom in Sacramento and half-stating/half-whining,
"I just never hear myself laugh anymore."
Well, I hear it all the time now -
loud and barreling, the kind where I’m always grabbing my mouth to stop it even though it’s already fallen out.
I love that laugh.
It had always been an accidental and wildly definitive part of myself,
the further representation of why I could never pull off that too-cool-for-school persona,
alongside my natural flair for clumsiness.
I had never known to love it, just to deal with it’s relentlessness.
But then it left me - for a long, long time.
I grew to miss that feeling in my stomach, that reverberance in my chest, the sweet joy in my soul.
Like I always say, it’s an endless source of gratitude to be this girlish woman again.
To once again be a free spirit,
instead of a bird with clipped wings.
To have learned through three years of dreary ugliness
that the person I am inside is actually pretty beautiful,
maybe even more so when those insides spill out.
I would live it all ten times over
just to know this truth.
Because it is true what they say -
love yourself first,
let everything else come second
and you will marvel at the difference.
reasons for working out on a rainy Saturday afternoon: finally seeing the stomach definition you’ve spent years creating 👏💪👏
"I dwell in possibility." - Emily Dickinson