I am constantly re-inventing myself, and it makes me wonder if I’ll ever totally find who I am/who I want to be, or if it will be a constantly changing idea. Does everyone experience this type of thing? I have friends who seem so concretely sure of who they are. They are like beautiful little rocks. They seem to know who they are, what they like, and they stand next to those aspects of themselves with steadfast clarity.

Then there’s me, sitting over there, constantly getting rid of/re-wearing clothes, trying to act differently, be different, to see what honestly reflects who I am. Unfortunately, who I am right now and who I want to be are two different women, and I’m not sure how to bridge that gap. If I try to act more how I wish I was rather than who I truly am, does that make me a hypocrite, or am I just learning and slowly making this acting more of a reality?

This brings me to aesthetics. I am perfectly aware that appearance isn’t everything. That being said, the way I dress is one of my absolute favorite ways to express myself. My outfit definitely affects my confidence level, which is why despite what I might put off, I usually think these things through pretty thoroughly. There are several online communities (and some in real life) who all dress/present themselves with the same type of aesthetic, and I want to belong to one of them. Somewhere. But I’m not sure exactly where I fit in there, either.

The other problem is, I’ll become really attracted to a certain kind of aesthetic, and identify heavily with it for a few months or even just a few weeks, but then it’s like I’ve pressed the refresh button and I’m suddenly off on a different path.

The main thing I wonder is what I asked earlier in this post: does everyone experience this? Or is my life just…overly-transitional? 


Left school for the weekend despite being invited to things, events happening, and having work to do, I needed to get away from it all for a little bit. I was doing fine, even considering telling my parents “sorry, I’ll have to come home another time” because of everything that was going on, but then on Thursday I just started feeling…ill.  

I hate that since my life has gotten to the ideal place that I’ve wanted it to be in for awhile, yet I can’t seem to handle it. I have a lot of different friends, I’m an editor on the school paper, and literally just landed my ideal part time job working on an actual, real newspaper. My weight could be better, but I’ve been getting a lot of positive attention for my looks lately, which is definitely weird. I am not at all used to getting compliments based solely on my appearance from strangers. In fact, it pretty much never happened until I got back to college three weeks ago.

This is such an in-between place in life, even more so than high school, I think. In high school you’re still a kid, for the most part you kind of know what your next step will be, and you still live under someone else’s control. In college/around college age (at least for myself and many other people I know), you’re caught in a strange place. You still identify with teenagers and teen culture, you’re not totally financially independent but you’re almost…transitioning into it. You’re in a learning environment, yet many professors will treat you more like an equal than a kid they’re babysitting. You start looking for real jobs, wondering about your career, wondering about if casual dating could become a serious relationship, or maybe not.

It is kind of overwhelming. I’m an adult. I can vote, I do not live with my parents, I have a real job in a real office. Yet I still go to school. I still only can work part-time because of school, so I’m still dependent on my parents financially, yet I no longer have to follow their rules or constantly try to meet their expectations. 

I wonder where I’m going.


I am in such an in-between stage in my life, it’s so strange. Now that my second semester of college is ending, I’m kind of..finished, mentally. I will continue to do all my work and such, but I suppose I’m just sort of..finished.

The way time is passing along, it will be next semester in no time. We’re already picking classes out, I already have a new roommate and room for next year (such an upgrade from my current room, so that’s nice). I just have this weird, anticipatory feeling in my chest that I can’t seem to shake. It’s the feeling of want. I want so many things, and it’s bothering me, because I don’t want to want them.

I want to move on to new classes.

I want to start looking for summer jobs.

I want to expand my friendships.

I want to move into my new room with Aaliyah.

I want to lose the 20 pounds I gained over the past six months (so badly).

I want to have graduated college already and move on.

I want to write something that will get me noticed.

I want to move up in the world.

I want to constantly buy thrifted clothes even though that’s not financially feasible.

I want Alex by my side (so, so badly).

Alex is something I struggle with wanting more than anything else. Sometimes, I feel like I’m the only person who is wishing really badly for another person to be by their side in the middle of the night, but I know I’m not. One visit to tumblr will reveal a whole ocean of people whose other halves or broken ends are floating around out there in other beds.

He’s my biggest in-between of all: we’re so far but so close, and my life seems to be marked off by the days we’re together, and measured by the thin tape that spreads slowly over months that we’re apart. I’ve lost the words on how to make him real when he’s not here.


I find it funny that the things we want the most, our ideal job, our perfect husband, wife, or friend, our favorite car, are all referred to as dreams, like having a dream job or a dream man. I always find this strange because my goals in life are not something that ever show up in my actual dreams.

My actual dreams are weird, and often awkward. They are very much just my brain trying to organize what’s happened to me that past day, and not so much my ideals of the future. Sometimes, I’ll even dream memories in really good detail. However, dreams are always the past, whether it be a memory of childhood or something that happened an hour before I fell asleep.

So in light of this, I will not be saying things like “dream house” anymore. I will say what I want my career goals to be, however vague or precise. What my goal weight or pants size might be, not my “dream body” (because to be honest, in my dreams I never see myself, except for those few weird pregnancy dreams that I’m definitely not going to go into).

I know this is just me taking the English language too seriously, but nevertheless. Dreams don’t happen, even dreams that are memories are not real, there is always something off about them.

This is me being all weird and introspective for the day. Sorry, guys.

One of Those Things That has to Be Said

Right now, I’m having one of those moments where I really feel like I have to get this written down and if I write it in my journal it will be all scribbly, because the fast I write the more my handwriting declines in quality. But, when I type, even when I’m typing at rapid rates, it still comes up looking just as legible. What an invention, the typewriter. Ha.

Anyway, the important statement I want to make: first of all, I should be doing a lot of other things right now. I have a short paper due tonight that I have not even started yet; I should be writing that. I need to take a shower and get ready to go to lunch with my friends in less than an hour. I need to spruce up my room a little before my parents come visit later on this afternoon (to keep them under the illusion that I am both a very clean and academically successful person, which in my case is kind of more of a give-and-take than a best-of-both-worlds situation). Most of all, I should REALLY be brushing my teeth because I woke up within the hour and I’m sitting here in nothing but my fluffy robe with my hair doing whatever the hell it wants and brushing my teeth seems like an urgent thing to take care of for some reason.

Which really does bring me to the point of this completely spur-of-the-moment post: I have a damn good life. Yes, I have problems, emotional hardships, car troubles, my eyebrows grow too fast, I miss my boyfriend, etc etc. But my life could be so much worse. I am upper middle class white girl going to a nice private school, who has a solid group of friends, a good GPA, an iPhone, and a really cool ceramic pig in my room (his name is Marshall). My parents are still together, and even though he’s a couple thousand miles away most of the time, I have a really great boyfriend.

To put it bluntly, my life is probably what most people would consider to be great. The only real and genuine problem I think I have is that because I have clinical depression/anxiety, my mind does not seem to see it that way. It goes around and picks out all the worse things and brings them to the surface, when all the great things, that greatly outnumber them, sink into the back. I could be very sick, or financially destitute, or not know my father, or have to sell my body to live, but I don’t have to do any of those things. And that, pardon my french, is fucking fantastic.

So yes, I’m not that skinny. I struggle with my body image a lot. But I am healthy. While my mind is a little strange sometimes, my body itself is healthy enough to do whatever I want, and I am extremely lucky for that. I intend to hike and run and climb all the stairs to my room and classes with great vigor from now on, because I can! I am blessed to be able to climb stairs and should enjoy climbing stairs while I can still do it!

So yes, I miss my boyfriend a lot. To give more background (although I’ll probably talk more about him soon in another post, we are best friends and it’s hard for me to describe how great he is here), he’s a US Marine and has been in the corps for a year now. It’s very difficult for both of us. I miss him almost all the time; having your very best friend who is also the guy you’re definitely in love with be so far away all the time is not an easy thing. But it’s not all bad. Our relationship has only gotten stronger this past year. We now know how to cope, and make each other feel better even when we cannot physically be there for the other person. We saw each other 27/365 days in 2013. It’s not a lot of days, but it will only get better from here. 2013 was boot camp, he didn’t have a lot of money or leave saved because yes, he’d just started up. It’s only going to get easier from here on out, because we can plan to see each other a little more often, and most importantly, we know how to cope. I love this guy like crazy, but our relationship is so much healthier because of the things we’ve learned apart: he has learned to be more attentive and willing to share, and I have grown a newfound sense of independence, both of which will help us in our relationship and for the rest of our lives.  Many of the girls I met whose boyfriends got to Parris Island the same time my boyfriend did are now single, or more commonly, already with someone else entirely. Their relationships were just not compatible for the long distance. It’s a tricky situation, and the only reason Alex and I have not only made it but made the most of it is because we are best friends and we have been for years. A relationship started purely off of physical connection is not likely to last being apart more than 300 days of a year, because if you have nothing to talk about, it’s basically over. Do I miss sex? Yes. Can I live without it? Definitely, I’ve been doing it all year, and a lot of men and woman have to go a year or two years without seeing their special someone, so it’s completely possible. When we actually get to see each other and have some alone time, is it exceptionally great? Yes. Yes it is.

That’s that, I suppose. I am a very lucky woman in this world. I could have been born somewhere else, born with some disease or gene or awful parent that predisposed me for a much more difficult life. But I wasn’t.  So, little rant about my boyfriend aside, this is what I am trying to say:

Is my life easy? No. Life isn’t easy for anyone. Even the richest white girl in the world has her own set of problems. Even Oprah has bad and confusing days. Life is hard. One of my favorite bands, Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, sings a very good song about just that. Life is hard, that’s how it’s always been and that’s how it will be, that is what life is in its very nature: a rewarding struggle. So my life isn’t easy, but the point of all this is that my life is good.

The most important lesson I have learned so far is that life is hard, but nothing worth doing is easy.