Saturday, December 17, 2011

a little honesty served with a side of shame.

i can feel it coming on the horizon. this foggy, cloudy, mess of depression and weirdness starting to burn away into the afternoon. i have been nothing short of a hot mess these past few months and to all of those in my life who have been effected by my sour mood. i apologize.

this post is very hard for me to write because it is admitting a lot of things i haven't been willing to admit. even to myself. i have started writing then erased this three times already but the whole point of this blog was for me to get the truth out there and hold myself accountable.


to be honest. i am exhausted. i am hungry. i am drained. and i am spent.

i knew i was going to be struggling a lot with the coming holidays and the hibernation months but i had no idea how bad it would be. i have been downright depressed and nothing has seemed to make a difference. there have been multiple stages i have been going through. some worse then others. but i just wanted to let you in on whats been going on in my mind since i haven't written in a while.

first. the butthole stage. yep, i said butthole. because i have been one in the meanest way. i am normally a really happy and nice person but these past few months i have been so mean. especially to the people i love most. i think the anger and exhaustion of being mad at myself got to the point where it started pouring out and reaching everyone in my life. i couldn't hold it in no matter how hard i tried. with this stage also came the anger. woo the anger was a little out of control. the road rage. the unexpected burst of hatred that came from no where. i don't exactly know why i have been so angry but i think its easier to be angry at the world then deal with being angry at myself.

next was the overeating. and bad. literally anything and everything i could eat i would. even things i didn't like. i actually was so hungry that i ate something i was allergic to and spent the next few hours in the fetal position holding my stomach in agony and throwing up. i would eat to the point where it hurt to sit up or when i finished i would be so full i actually got dizzy and nauseated. but for some reason i couldn't stop my hand from going to my mouth. about four or five of the nights during these weeks i would get rid of the food in destructive ways which would in turn make me feel worse. get angry. get upset. then eat some more. it literally is the worst cycle ever.  it is so unbelievably hard to recognize that you are even eating sometimes and sometimes i would be in a weird black-out state where i didn't even know i was in the middle of a binge.

the last stage, the stage i am in now, is the sleep phase. i have been averaging more that 70% of my day sleeping. i sleep til 11:30am. wake up for 20 minutes. sleep til 3:30pm. wake up for an hour and shower. go back to sleep til around 7 or 8pm. then i wake up for a few hours and eat for the first time in the day. then lay back down in bed until i fall asleep and do it all over again. my logic behind this is that if i am sleeping. im not eating. sometimes i wake up in a dead sleep with horrible hunger pains but usually within a few hours it goes away. to me i feel like i am protecting myself because im not overeating and binging but i know that it is not healthy for me to do this physically or mentally. sleeping makes the day more manageable because im not thinking but in turn this has caused me to be very, very anxious and out of touch.

i don't have an end to this post because i am still in the heat of the battle. but the good thing is i am starting to feel normal again and more like myself. which is something i haven't felt in what feels like eternity. mostly i am looking forward to the new year and a new beginning. but i still have fifteen days to go and i am hoping and praying to feel like myself again sooner rather than later.

Saturday, December 10, 2011


i first want to apologize for it being so long since i have written a post in here. this blog is on my mind daily and i have tried to write but that was the problem. i was trying. it wasn't just happening. so, i decided to wait to write until i felt like i was ready.

these past couple of weeks have been nothing short of a nightmare. i have been overwhelmed, depressed, and all sorts of moody. a huge contribution could be finals and my finances but a lot had to do with what is going on inside of me.

its almost impossible for me to try to put into words what i have been feeling. but all i can share is this song.

"and you can't fight the tears that ain't coming
or the moment of truth in your lies
when everything feels like the movies
yeah you bleed just to know you're alive
and i don't want the world to see me
'cause i don't think that they'd understand
when every thing's made to be broken
i just want you to know who i am"

Saturday, November 19, 2011

no pity party here.

last weekend i celebrated my friend joes 21st birthday in style. being the last one out of our group to turn 21 we all decided it would be fun to go all out. so, we got a party bus. and let me tell you. it was SO much fun! about twenty of us piled in the fancy party bus complete with an ice filled bar, complimentary champagne, and a booming stereo. we laughed, we joked, and had an amazing time. all in all it was probably one of the most fun nights i have had in my whole life. i feel blessed to have friends to spend quality time with and the opportunities to do an awesome thing like we did.

and in truth. i had a blast. which was something that i wasn't sure i was going to have. see, i was one out of the only five girls on the bus and the rest were guys. a few of which i kinda have crushes on. and i was worried that i would be worried when i was on the bus. the other girls i hang out with are gorgeous, thin, and the guys drool all over them. i got really anxious, started fussing, and got a little moody to be honest. but the weird thing was once i was on the bus all of my insecurities were gone.

sure i had a little liquid courage to keep me motivated but the WHOLE NIGHT i didn't once think a negative thought about myself. i wasn't aware until the next day that i was the biggest girl on the bus and that my bangs got sweaty and fell out of my bobby pin. i didn't stress out that my makeup was virtually smudged across my whole face and that my tight curls lost shape and zig zagged in every which way. i didn't think about any of that. in all honesty i wasn't really thinking about what i looked like at all. and when i went to the bathroom i didn't allow myself to look in the mirror. and for the first time in years i wore a skirt without dark tights or leggings to cover my legs up. i rocked a tank top and skirt and owned it like it was the easiest thing in the world even though it was absolutely terrifying.

a few days later when i saw pictures from the evening i had a mini heart attack when i saw how awful, gross, and ugly i really looked but for some reason it didn't linger and bother me for days after like it normally would have. i was so carefree that night that no picture with 23847 double chins could take that away from me.
because in that moment. in that entire evening i was me. i was confident. i was HAPPY. and even though writing this now it feels artificial it wasn't that night. i was genuinely happy with myself. and i know that  its a step in the right direction. even if its a little baby step.

thats the birthday boy himself mister joe :)

my partner in crime and me on the bus. i wouldnt have made it that night without her.

me and tim. probably one of the nicest guys i know :)

some of the group <3

Saturday, November 12, 2011

natural kind of beauty.

every since i was younger i remember being told that guys like all natural girls. that there is something simple yet beautiful about them. that they are elegant. timeless.

but when i look at the kind of girls that most guys go for, there definitely seems to be a huge lack in all natural and a big heap of dark makeup, perfectly fixed hair, and clothes that look like they were painted on. i thought all the people who told me that natural girls were pretty were just trying to make me feel better and would lie when they said i looked beautiful without makeup.

and i definitely don't think there is anything wrong with girls who dress up and make themselves look good. but as a young high school girl who never wore much make up and had an awful widows peek and down the middle parted hair i was constantly in conflict. because the girls who caked on makeup and wore revealing clothes got the boyfriends. and i knew that that wasn't the type of attention i wanted but i got to the point where i need SOME attention. even if it was bad. i wanted to have a guy fall for me in my all natural state like i had been promised would happen. but i realized that would never happen. so i got bangs, straightened my poofy, frizzy, wavy locks, wore dark make up, and tried to dress more feminine and revealing. and it worked. i got attention. and just as i thought it definitely was not the good kind. but i thought if a guy was attracted to me in any way it was better than not having any at all. but i wasn't myself and i didn't feel comfortable. so after a couple horrible run ins and a few years i decided i would stick with my tshirts and cardigans, lost the purple and teal eye shadow and replaced it with more natural colors, and started wearing my hair in its wavy, crazy, wild natural state.

and don't get me wrong. i still absolutely love to get dressed up, have sultry makeup, and feel like i am attending a red carpet premiere. as i have gotten older its something i look forward to and enjoy. nothing can make me feel more feminine than having curled hair, long eye lashes, and a pair of heels on. and when guys stop and look at me for a brief moment when i walk into a room wearing a little black dress and bright red lipstick i feel like a movie star. 

but for me its the time after that i feel the prettiest. actually, when i feel almost beautiful. when the sucker-inners are on the floor and the heels are replaced with buzz lightyear socks. when my make up is still on but a little smudged, my curls have loosened and fallen, and i slip into my favorite pair of sweatpants and old ratty band tshirt. because that is me. that's the girl i long to be everyday. the girl i want to show the world. the girl who isn't afraid to be seen undone or incomplete. the girl who use to get scolded every holiday for taking off her pretty christmas shoes the moment she walked in the door to run around the backyard barefoot. the girl who has hair that curls and flips and waves all over the place and the girl who washes off her make up the moment she walks in the door. the girl who hates jeans, shoes, and bras and wishes sometimes she was born in the 60's so she could be a hippy and not have to wear clothes. the girl she is when no one else is looking.

and she is the girl i love being. the relaxed girl after the party and festivities are over. and i realized recently that i am the happiest when i am her. when i allow myself to strip down to the basics and just be comfortable (which is something i completely forgot about.) and of course i feel pretty when i dress up but the whole time i am picking and pulling and stretching and fixing. but when i crawl into my bed after a long night out i can breathe easy (probably because im not wearing spanx anymore) and know i am the most natural me i can ever be.

and maybe they were right all along. maybe guys do like girls when they are in their natural state. because when i am all kate and all natural i feel beautiful. and when you feel beauty, you create beauty. and that isn't something that a little black dress or make up can fake. that something that only comes from being yourself.
so tonight i am going to dress up as pretty as i can for my friends birthday party. i am gonna squeeze myself into a pair of spanx and i am gonna worry too much about how my hair looks all night. my feet will hurt, my thighs will rub, and my make up will run. but when the nights over and all the boys have gone and i am finally alone i will slip on my old senior sweats from high school and my favorite old vw bus tshirt and i will smile to myself. because i can finally be myself. and i can feel beautiful for the first time all night.

Sunday, November 6, 2011

one day.

one day
some day
i will be one of the lucky ones
and completely mesmerizing
i will steal your attention
and you won't wanna ever see me go
i will be the star of the show
and loved by all
i will be light
i will be free
i will be complete

but until then
i will be the unlucky one
and invisible 
the sidekick in the corner
waiting on the bench
for one day
or some day
when i will be more than this
because i am heavy
i am a prisoner
and i am broken. 

Saturday, November 5, 2011

hearts song

i was so unique
now i feel skin deep
i count on the make up to cover it all
crying myself to sleep cause i cannot keep their attention 

i thought i could be strong
but it's killing me

does someone hear my cry?
i'm dying for new life

i want to be beautiful
make you stand in awe
look inside my heart,
and be amazed
i want to hear you say
who i am is quite enough

just want to be worthy of love
and beautiful

sometimes i wish i was someone other than me
fighting to make the mirror happy
trying to find whatever is missing

won't you help me back to glory

i want to be beautiful
 make you stand in awe
look inside my heart,
and be amazed
i want to hear you say
who i am is quite enough

just want to be worthy of love
and beautiful

beautiful- bethany dillion

Friday, November 4, 2011



to begin to even start talking about relationships would require a whole entire blog dedicated to the subject alone.  but don't worry. i am not writing this post to talk about mushy gushy romance. i am writing to talk about the lack of it in my life.

for as long as i have been attracted to the opposite sex it has never gone well for me. i tend to fall for the bad boys, the rebels, the ones with serious problems, and the guys who generally don't give a crap about anything. especially, me. but the reason why i fall for these guys isn't because their hard exterior is tantalizing. its because somehow they seek me, the vulnerable, out like a prey and capture me when when i least expect it. i fall victim to their charming manipulative ways.

i have been told by dozens of people i should write a book about my ridiculous and sometimes humorous endeavors with men and who knows; maybe one day i will. there are way too many to list and even more to painful to talk about. but this post isn't to talk or bash then men who have come in and out of my life.

its to talk about me.

see, the problem with me is i think when a guy treats me badly i deserve it. i attribute it to my low self esteem and the fact that i never thought i was good enough or pretty enough for a guy who would actually appreciate me. i have had a guy break up with me because he said he "settled for me" and when i asked him what he meant he simply looked me up and down and made a disgusted face. and yes it hurt. it damn well crushed me. i cried for days in the fetal position in my bed (and sadly didn't wasn't pretty). but all the while i thought i was getting what i deserved. that somehow i deserved to be crushed for attempting to find a relationship because who are we kidding...who would ever want to date a girl like me?

i have never had an "official relationship" or anything resembling a normal one at that. i have always wanted it to be easy. boy meets girl. boy likes girl. boy goes after girl. boy falls for girl. boy makes girl his girlfriend. so, so simple. with me its never been that way. because boy has always been ashamed of this girl. i have never had a guy want to make me his official girlfriend for the world to know. no, we had to date in secrecy because his mom wouldn't "allow it" although in reality the only reason why is because he was embarrassed of me. it took me almost 10 months to figure that out. and that's not the first time. i have had guys want to be around me or call me only when they are drunk. guys who like me just because i was always there. guys who came after me and pretended to like me just to challenge my purity. and guys pretend to like me just to get closer to my friends. no guy has ever seen me and thought, "wow, i must be with her."

all i have ever wanted was to walk in public and hold hands. literally. when i see couples with linked arms, holding hands, or with their arms around each other something hurting inside of me starts screaming why? why cant i have that? don't i deserve to be shown around? don't i deserve to not be hidden due to embarrassment?

and i now know that the answer is YES.

yes i deserve to be something that is fought for and cherished. to not be ashamed of. i deserve to be kissed in public. to be taken on a date. i deserve to have a man who actually cares about me be in my life and not use me for his own personal gain. i deserve to be treated and adored like a princess. like something special.
because i am something special. and all those other men who have come in and out of my life and tore up my insides never saw that. but you know what? that's okay. because they don't deserve to see me for who i am and to get to spend time with me.

because i am special. i am unique. and yes, i am flawed. but that doesn't change the fact that i deserve a romance and love that is not perverted by selfishness and false ideas of beauty.

and i am not blind. i know how men view women. especially me. i know i am a big girl. i know i have a big nose and forehead. i know that when i laugh and talk i don't do it pretty and gracefully. i know that my hair is messy more than its put together and that i am not the kind of girl most guys would pick out of the crowd.
but i also know that i don't deserve to be treated the way i have been. i don't deserve to have guys play with my emotions constantly and use me when its convenient for them. i deserve a romance like nicholas sparks writes. like in the notebook. to have a man want to be around me so much that he would literally jump onto a moving ferris wheel to ask me out. i deserve to have a guy make me a telescope and to name a star after me because he knows what i care about. or to have a man help me with the things on my life list. i deserve a man who will love me all through his time in war and fight to get me back when the pain is too unbearable.
i deserve this.

and i deserve all those things despite all the reasons i have told myself i don't.

and i know all these things. i really do. now its time to start believing them and put them into effect in my life. its not gonna be easy. im gonna have to say no and protect myself. i am going to cry, scream, and fight but in the end its all i can do to keep my heart together. because this heavy heart cannot bear many more burdens or hurts until it finally falls apart.

Saturday, October 29, 2011

guest post :)

happy weekend all :)
yesterday i had the honor and privilege to guest post on one of my favorite blogs in this blogosphere. courtney from vinch has given me unbelievable encouragement and support on my journey here and i am so blessed to have had the opportunity to be on her blog. you can check out my submission for her microscope heart series on her blog right here.

have a blessed and safe weekend.

Saturday, October 22, 2011

imperfections post number one: legs.

it is kind of sad that it has been difficult for me to try to narrow down just one thing to talk about for this first post. but after some careful thought i finally settled on my legs.

i have always had smaller legs. well, small for my size. my body is kind of shaped like a potato with toothpicks. i have a huge center with these little twigs poking out from underneath. its kind of silly really. the problem i always faced with my legs was actually showing them. for some reason wearing a dress, skirt, or pair of shorts has become absolutely terrifying to me. the whole time i am in an anxious worry spell wondering if too much of my thighs are showing, if i have cellulite, or if by showing them off i am exposing how much bigger my tummy is. a million and one different thoughts run through my mind as i stand before my mirror trying to dress and finally i decide on a pair of jeans.


jeans have become my security blanket and worst enemy. i realized that they aren't the most feminine and the whole time i am worried about looking too manish. so its a losing battle. i can wear something pretty and girly and feel insecure, or wear a pair of jeans that are comforting but make me feel manly and insecure. in the end, i always feel insecure.

i guess another thing i don't like about my legs are the shapes of my knees. i once had a friend tell me my knee caps look like lions (weird, i know ha!) and ever since then i have been weird about my knees showing. i worry they are too saggy, too crooked, and too wobbly and boney. sometimes i stare at them stretched out in front of me and pull and push the skin and bones around trying to imagine what my knees would look like after surgery. of course i wont get reconstructive knee surgery but the thoughts always in my mind.

but after starting to write this post (i actually began it last week) i did something unheard of. i wore a dress. not once. not twice. but three times. in ONE week! and not only that but i wore a pair of shorts twice. five days last week i was wearing an article of clothing that showed my saggy knees and chicken legs. five days i didn't second guess myself in the mirror as i stood there stressed out beyond belief at the pale logs coming from my waist. i rejected the negative thoughts that flowed through my mind as i looked down at them while driving around.

i know it doesn't seem like much but to me it feels huge. because when i walked across campus in my dress and cowboy boots i felt good. dare i say, cute?

its one step in the right directions and hopefully the legs that will carry my to the finish line can be legs that i one day come to love and can show off unashamed.


i have talked a lot about imperfections and the different trials and battles i have gone through to hide them or to keep them a secret. i have lived my life in shame and in a pool of guilt and i am finally getting fed up with it. i am about to reach my breaking point. but mostly i am getting tired of my insecurities being the only thing i think about.

so, i have decided that i wanted to start a series---or even just a collection of posts--- highlighting my insecurities and working through them. on here. out in the open. sure, there will be some i wont be able to talk about right away--if ever--but i know that by bringing them to light that they will lose their power over me. and that is something i so desperately need right. i need a cleansing of guilt. a renewal of my spirit. and a new chance at this battle i am fighting.

Friday, October 21, 2011

an apology.

i feel like i haven't been completely honest with you all. while there have been some wonderful ups in these past couple months there have also been a lot of downs. i originally started this blog as an accountability partner and to keep me from falling down that path i have struggled on for many years.

but, unfortunately i did.

its really hard and embarrassing to admit but the guilt i have been holding inside is so much worse then the actually admitting of it. so here i am. admitting i struggled. i fell. and i failed myself.

but i guess there's always tomorrow. or even the day after that. i can wallow in my self pity like i have done for year or i can suck it up and deal with the consequences one day at a time. i knew this journey wouldn't be easy and maybe all the attacks and low blows i have had are because im doing something right.

maybe its okay to admit you failed. its okay to not be perfect. because man, i am imperfect. maybe its okay to talk about things that most people don't wanna talk about. and maybe its okay to have a rough patch.

its what you do after that really counts.

i am sorry i failed and that its taken me this long to admit it. all of my posts have been genuine and from my heart, i just have been hurting a lot more than i have let on. and i am sorry.

but im not giving up and its gonna take a lot more to bring me down.

Saturday, October 15, 2011

under the knife and microscope.

i cant tell you how many times i wished i had enough money to get plastic surgery. in high school i would write all the things i wanted changed in a dry erase marker on my mirror so when i got ready in the morning the words hung over my reflection looking back at me. soon they were all i saw. mostly i wanted a tummy tuck and i would read articles about the recovery process and the risks and everything and anything about it. i became an expert on the subject and planned on getting one when i turned 18.

but a few years ago i had a real change of heart. to be honest i am not sure what changed my mind but i realized that if i was to get a tummy tuck that it would be artificial. it wouldn't be me.  i would probably be happy with the way i looked on the outside but not happy with who i am on the inside. i would have the reverse effect of what i have now. i would look in the mirror and see a flatter tummy but i would know i didn't do it myself. i wouldn't be able to live with myself. and to me, it would be the same exact thing that i had been doing for years with my eating problems. always trying the extremes to control my body. this time i would just be going under the knife. taking it to that final step.

i also know that if i got one proceedure it would be a snowball effect. i am an all or nothing kind of person and soon i would be looking in the mirror evaluating every imperfection. once again, putting my insecurities under a microscope. first it would be my tummy. then maybe my nose. then my boobs. then my face. then my knees. then my butt. the list goes on and on.

because in all reality can we ever be 100% happy with our bodies? if we can change one thing...why not change it all? right? because our society tell us that we need to be this weight if we are this height. that we need to have those boobs. those biceps. that flat stomach. those long legs. we need to be perfect and the funny thing is NO ONE is all those things. and never will be.

i came upon this picture and an article this morning and it really puts all that i am saying in perspective.
this woman is beautiful and i think she has a gorgeous body. all those lines signify the surgeries she would have to obtain to have a body like barbie. This is a quote from the article. "Here’s a breakdown of what she'd need done to be the kind of doll women aspire to: a brow lift, a jaw line shave, rhinoplasty, a cheek and neck reduction, a chin implant, scooped-out shoulders, a breast lift, liposuction on her arms, and tummy tuck. And that’s just the half of her." that is a horrifyingly disgusting reality. a scooped out shoulder? chin implant? come on people. that woman has a completely healthy, normal, beautiful body. i read comments on the article and someone put:

"There is nothing wrong with having all those surgeries. I don't like the way they made it seem like a bad thing. She is fat, has a strong jaw lines, and a manish figure and she would benefit from at least a few of those procedures. Modern society and feminists are brainwashing us to believe that perfection is just a fragment of our imagination but its not. Plastic surgery helps people become better. Especially women."

i know i shouldn't read the comments because they always make me mad but really? perfection IS obtainable by plastic surgery? especially for women?

not even yahoo username mike d.

 that is absolutely ridiculous. i think that even if she got all those surgeries to become "perfect" that she wouldnt be happy. because happiness comes from within. its what fills us up with life. with beauty. my dear friend natalie wrote a beautiful blog and had this quote on there and i felt it was perfect for this.

“People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within.”
- Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

its kind of like the pearl. the shells come in so many different shapes and colors, some pretty and some plain, but on the inside each pearl is uniquely beautiful. radiant. but what if the pearl was on the outside? what if you didnt have to crack the shell open to find the hidden beauty? or what if you found a gorgeous shell and cracked it open just to find nothing? the true beauty of the pearl lies within. what would be the point of the pearl trying to perfect its shell when the truly important part is what is inside?
and if i am being honest, i think plastic surgery is cheating. for my tummy tuck it would be the easiest way out. i wouldnt have the satisfaction of knowing i worked my butt off to get the result. sure, its hard. i have the hardest time losing weight. but having surgery to "enhance" my body would be just changing the god-given body i have artifically and realistically only temporarily and taking hard work and dedication out of it. where is the self satisfaction and confidence in that?

i am not against surgery when it is necessary but i definitely dont think plastic surgery is the answer to self esteem problems.

trust me i know. its not something a couple thousand dollars will change. its an internal thing. self esteem cannot be magically repaired by a sugery. its a yearly, monthly, weekly, daily, per second constant battle.

i know that weight isnt the only thing people want to change on their bodies too.

say you think your nose is too big? who cares! it was put on your face for a reason. and it brings attention to your face and highlights other wonderful features like your eyes and lips.

or you think your boobs are too small, not perky enough, or arent how you would like? so what! they are beautiful because they are on your body. they compliment your curves in a beautiful way that a boob job cant. they are natural. and that is beatiful and cant be faked or replicated.

i just think that we need to start loving our imperfections for all they offer to our bodies. they are the things that make us unique and a plastic doll or magazine gloss picture can never have those things.

and yes there are things we CAN change. like our weight. our abs. our muscles. and all the things that we can get by working hard and really truly trying to perfect the way we see ourselves, not trying to actually perfect ourselves.

what are the imperfections tiny or big that bother you? can you fix them? or can you learn to love them? what would you be like without them? who would you be without them?

“Sometimes we strive so hard for perfection that we forget that imperfection is happiness” - Karen Nave 

Tuesday, October 11, 2011


tonight was exactly what i needed
after an emotionally and physically stressful weekend i let loose a little
i rolled the windows all the way down
and let the cool october air blow through my hair
i cranked up the newest song to woo and romance my heart
and sang along with every lyric
maybe a little too loud

i let my hand play in the wind outside
and felt myself be free under the gorgeous full moon
i didn't care what the people around me were thinking
or what the guys next to me were laughing at
i didn't drive down the streets that make me hurt
i didn't think of how i looked
or what i was wearing
who would be judging me
or where i was going next
i didn't think at all
i just drove

and all i cared about was the breeze on my face and the song in my ears
consuming me
making me lovely under the moonlight
i was simply me
and wonderfully happy

Thursday, October 6, 2011

inner beauty

in class yesterday i had a heart dropping, stomach turning, inner body temperature boiling moment. and because of it my self esteem virtually fell off the chart.

the weird thing is no one said anything to me or called me any name. i didn't get a dirty look or have someone snicker when i walked by. it was in and of itself this picture.

(the sad thing it was so easy to find this. i went to google and typed in "inner beauty quotes" and it was near the top.)

this picture, caption and all, was on the guys binder who sits next to me. he dropped his pen and i reached over to pick it up for him and when i sat it on his desk it rested just on top of this picture tucked behind the plastic next to a picture of him and a few of his guy friends. he saw my eyes quickly dart across the image and i know he must have seen the pain fill me as they traced the words and took in their meaning. and instead of covering the binder or looking away he looked me right in the eyes.

and he smiled.

it wasn't a friendly smile. it was a, "guess what, this is about you" kind of smile. it was a, "i think you are ugly and fat" kind of smile. and it pissed me off. i wanted to throw his binder across the room and tell him how many people that picture is going to haunt and hurt. i wanted to punch him in his stupid nose and break it just like that picture broke something inside of me. i wanted to cause him pain. i wanted to tell him the million and one reason why that picture, no, those words, are hurtful and destructive. i wanted to make him see. i wanted to tell him everything.

but i didn't. do you know what i did?

i smiled back.

yep. i cheesed it at that s.o.b. and simply said, "here's your pen" and turned back to face the professor. i washed the pain and humiliation off my face just as quickly as it came and spent the rest of the hour and nineteen minutes in class focusing on the teacher and world war one. obviously he has that picture on his binder for a reason. maybe he thinks its funny. maybe he does it so girls like me get their feelings hurt and he doesn't have to personally feel guilty because hes not the one saying it. regardless, he has that placed there because he wants to get a reaction and i wasn't about to let him win. at least not when hes looking.

last night i kept the situation out of my mind for the evening and really kept my focus on anything and everything other then that guy. but as midnight rolled around and i was staring at the black ceiling of my room i felt those words, that perfect woman in that picture, and his pleased-with-himself grin creep up on me. i felt all the insults ive been called, all the tears ive cried, and all the self hatred start to shower me. they started to cover me--suffocate me. my chest physically started hurting to the point i had to get on the ground and hold my body so tight like it was the only thing keeping me alive. i cried and winced at the pain. physically and much, much deeper inside of me. i kept saying the word no over and over. i told myself he's wrong and that he doesn't understand inner beauty because from the looks of it, he is severely lacking in that department. after what felt like hours i crawled into bed, pulled the covers over my head, and fell asleep. mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted.

but this morning i woke up feeling new. after a soul wrenching conversation last night i decided i am going to try to live life fully every single day. i want to live life unapologetically. on purpose. i want to do things that make me happy. experience life and feel beautiful because of it.

i took a long shower and took my time in lathering my body and really letting the few degrees too hot water fall all over me like a cleansing rain. most of the time, well all of the time, i take as quick of a shower as i can and get dressed instantly because i hate seeing my body without clothes on. but today i took my time. i put lotion on my freshly shaved skin and let the water drops from my hair trickle down my back. i made myself a chai latte completely undressed. no one was home and this was my morning. my morning to live unapologetically. to do exactly what i want to do and to be whoever i wanted to be. even if that's an overweight naked girl. i slipped on a short fleece robe and the warmth felt good on my damp skin. i slid on a pair of ugg-like boots and took the doggies outside to brave the cold weather. the crispy air pinched and nibbled at my barely covered skin and created prickles on my freshly shaved legs. but i didn't care. i lifted my hands and stretched every muscle in my body reaching up towards the heavens and you know what? my robe flew open! but i didn't care. because in that moment wearing nothing but a pair of boots and wet hair i felt more alive, more free, and more beautiful than i have in my entire life.

the thought that popped into my mind at that moment was towards the guy in my class and the only thing i could think was, "suck it! you aren't going to bring me down!"

i realized my nudity might blind the neighbors so i scooted back inside to my bedroom and i did something i haven't done in years.

i looked at myself naked.

eeek! it was scary my friends. but you know what? it wasn't as awful as i remember.
i noticed that i have a pretty collar bone. that my legs are thankfully skinny and look really cute in a pair of boots. that my boobs aren't as saggy or ugly as i remember and actually kinda pretty. i noticed curves and shapes and beauty i had never seen before on my body.

and sure i noticed my awful stomach and double chin and how ugly i look without make up but i realized that there are some things i might be okay with on my body.

and i also realized that even though i don't feel beautiful when i look in a mirror, that i do feel it sometimes when im not looking in a mirror and that's okay. because inner beauty is real. and its not only reserved for a certain type of person. i feel beautiful when i don't look in a mirror because i am feeling myself. i am feeling the beauty that is radiating from inside of me.

and if i feel beautiful with my arms in the air like a crazy person with my robe flapping open in the wind that's okay too because im just being me. and even though shes not as gorgeous as the girl in the picture above, shes a hell of a lot prettier inside then someone who would make a picture like that to make people feel bad about themselves. the road to loving yourself starts one step at a time. and this morning i took a pretty big step.

Friday, September 30, 2011


this is a dance about addiction and the way it can literally break us apart.
the emotion is overwhelming.
i posted it on my other blog a while back and then i realized today how much it really applies to everything i have been talking about on here.
take a second to watch it.
it is breathtaking.

whimsically strange

i did a little bit of soul searching today while looking through old pictures and i realized something about myself.
im weird
like really weird
and i always have been.
i have been called it for years and years but now i fully get it.
here is example a, b, c, d, e, f, and g to prove my case.
a) underwear on the head. not just any underwear; my brothers underwear. i guess it started early.
b) spongebob costume. i wore this around in public. and no, it wasnt halloween.
 c) yes those are 50 cent fake tattoos turned into a sleeve. and yes i wore this in public. even to a concert i was working at.
d) nerdy costume. but i DO wear my hair like that on a normal day. rockin the side ponytail napoleon dynamite style.
e) i dont think much can be said about this.
f) this picture is all sorts of awful. but hey...i am most certainly rockin that alligator head like im americas next top model.
g) that is in fact a toilet seat cover. on my head. not sure why but its there.

some people think the term "weird" is bad
and i guess i use to be offended when people would call me it.
but according to dictionary. com weird is:
fantastic; bizarre
and bizarre means:
markedly unusual in appearance, style, or general character and often involving unexpected elements; outrageously or whimsically strange; odd:
i think i can be okay with that.
i am me and as far as i am concerned no one else can be.
so why not be proud of the weird, strange, unusual person i am?
when was normal ever fun?


i have struggled with feeling feminine since i can remember. i grew up with an older brother and spend most of my childhood around his friends. i would ride bikes, roll around in the dirt, and chase them around the backyard with our laser tag sets. i loved being "one of the boys" because lets face it; guys are much easier to spend a lot of time with. they are simple and easy. the perfect recipe for a good time.

as i got older and into my teenage years it was always my best friend, her boyfriend, his friends, and me. we were always hanging out with the boys, playing mini golf, getting into some form of trouble, and driving around hitting trash cans in the wee hours of the morning. i think its then that i realized i had a struggle with feeling feminine. i had been so use to being around the guys and being "one of the guys" that i completed neglected all actions of being a girl. i farted around anyone (especially the guys during a game of doorknob), burped, laughed unnaturally loud, and made inappropriate comments all the time. i was obnoxious, in your face, and didn't show any signs of being "girly". not that there is nothing wrong by any means with being a tomboy but i realized that when the guys in the group i had feelings for didn't like me back it was because they thought of me as just one of the guys. i was put in the "friend zone". i had always prided myself on not being like other girls but in the attempts to be cool around the guys and fit in i denied myself the rights of being a girl. which i desperately wanted to be. and in all reality guys don't wanna date "one of the guys", they want a girl.

i have also struggled with feeling feminine because my association with what "feminine" truly means is horribly distorted. my best friend is well liked by the male sex. guys just like her. and who is to blame them?! shes cute, funny, smart, and feisty. shes also five foot nothing and weighs about 100 pounds. she is in all means of the word dainty and petite. and guys love that. on the other hand i am 5'7, definitely not 100 pounds, and very rarely, if ever get attention from guys. in my mind i thought in order to be considered a girl and be treated like one i had to look like her. dainty. petite. small. and lets be honest...those are things i could never be no matter how badly i wish that would change. because my genes are different and unfortunately even plastic surgery cant really change that.

i also realized that the two of us are treated differently because of our size differences. like when we would go on trips with our guy friends and we had to cross the river. they could simply just pick her up and carry her across. me? ha that's a different story. i would fumble across the rocks and end up with my feet soaking wet. i wasn't able to be carried across safely and dry because in all reality, they couldn't carry me. but in my mind i was telling myself that she is being treated like a lady because shes small and girly and i was treated like just another person on the street because i am big and not worthy of that treatment. for a long time i was truly jealous of my friend because i felt like she got the royal treatment everywhere we went because of how she looked. and in all reality, that's probably mostly true. but then i realized that being envious of her and letting that destroy my self esteem wasn't her fault and it wasn't getting anything accomplished.

to this day i still struggle with being feminine but in a totally different way.i abandoned my farting and dirty joke telling self years ago but i still do get treated different because of my size. now i try to not let that effect me as much. but i wont wear vans anymore because i feel like they make me look manly. i wont wear certain colors or styles of clothing because they accentuate my swimmer shoulders. i stopped wearing band tshirts or any tshirts for that matter because they weren't girly enough. i cant stand baggy pants because i have no butt and they make me look like an overweight thirteen year old boy. i have so many self proclaimed rules that i lead my life by that getting dressed is completely exhausting. i constantly think, "will this make me look pretty, feminine, and girly?" and i constantly compare myself to every girl i meet. its overwhelming and draining. but i feel like i have to work overtime to gain back those years i lost in the in between phases of my life.

then there's the hair. my latest struggle.up until two days ago i had been growing out my hair for the past two years. i had long, curly, chocolate brown hair and i loved it. its what i had always wanted. but i got to the point where i needed something new. i hang out with a huge group of boys so i decided to get their input. most of them ignored my question but a few were adamant about me NOT cutting my hair. they kept saying, "long hair is feminine and girly". which is great because hey look! i have long hair! so that should mean i am feminine and girly right? the exact confirmation i have been dying for for the past twenty two years of my life. i spent hours online before my hair appointment looking on discussion boards and yahoo answers to see if guys like longer or shorter hair more and about 99% of the answers came back long hair.i was in a dilemma because i wanted to cut my hair but i felt guilty that by cutting it i would be denying myself that feeling of femininity i have been so long dying to feel.

but as i was sitting in the chair at the salon i had a realization. even if i have hair down to the floor and its gorgeous and healthy and wonderful and everyone praises me for it that wont make me feminine. because being feminine comes from inside of us. from that fragile place in every girls heart that longs to be a princess rescued in her tower.

so, i chopped it off and dyed it a redpurplebrown color. my long, curly, chocolate brown hair is now gone. it wasn't a huge drastic moment but i took off a good seven or eight inches. even typing this now my hair just resting on my shoulders makes me feel a little anxious. i keeping thinking, "where is the rest of it? where is my hair!?" and to be honest, i mostly cut it BECAUSE i was told by so many not to do it. and surprisingly, i am happy with it! last night the boys i hang out with saw my hair and i was so nervous they were going to call me ugly or some awful name but funny enough they didn't even notice! i asked them what they thought and they said, "its not that short." one guy asked me, "why did you do that?" but other then that they didn't seem to notice.

how stupid can i be that i thought they would be effected by my hair cut. but i wore it confidently and proudly and that is the thing that guys notice.

and sure, rapunzel threw her hair down the castle wall for her prince to come save her and unfortunately i cannot do that now with my short, layered, brownishred hair.

 but i guess that just means i might have to wait a little bit longer.
or he will have to find another way to come find me :)

my struggle with feeling feminine and beautiful is a long road that won't be ending soon. but i feel like making decisions for myself like i did with my hair are the stepping stones to loving the person that i am. i can't expect to be treated like a feminine lady by others if i cant even treat myself like i am one.

anyways, those are my thoughts as of today. thank you everyone for the continuous support and encouragement <3

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

dear _____,

i feel your eyes on me
burning right through my walls
tearing apart my covered up self
when will this be good enough?
when will all that i am satisfy you?
because you can never be satisfied
you cannot be quenched
your thirst for perfection is haunting
with every lie i tell myself
i am fueling your power of deception
that what you show is how i am suppose to be
no i will not be taken prisoner to your trickery anymore
perfection cannot be reached
and i know i will never be one of those girls
the "perfect ones"
flawlessness from head to toe
the envy of every girls eye
the lust of every mans touch
i can batter and bruise myself
scar and tear myself apart til there is nothing left
and despite doing all these things
i will never reach this vision
this vision of perfection
because even if i torture myself into this nothingness
day after day
i will still be me on the inside
which to you will never be enough

i have one shining light in the darkness of this despair
and though i might not be perfect on the outside like society shows us we "should be"
i have Something that is perfect inside of me
Something singing life into my soul
unlike you who scream death into my self worth
i have Something whispering hope into my dreams
faith into my veins
and love for myself into my heart
i have the ultimate beauty inside of me
that isn't made up of makeup plastered faces and flawless bodies
its made up of overflowing love and beauty
something that cannot be reached by starvation and self abuse
but by self sacrifice and abandonment of self hatred
and though i still look at myself
i take comfort in knowing that i was made in the image of perfection
and that the person i am wasn't a mistake
i was carefully pieced together
i am beautifully and wonderfully made
and i am starting to see that its okay to be me
imperfect in many ways
and damaged
but finally starting to love the person i was meant to be
even though she'll never be perfect

Saturday, September 24, 2011

self induced hell

i cant catch my breath
gasping, inhaling, clutching my chest
trying to find some form of air to fill these desperate lungs
my thoughts chill me to the bone
tearing down wall after wall put up
trying to keep these negative thoughts out
the banging in my chest is the only thing letting me know i am still alive

the clanging around inside echos through my body
beating in every limb and fingertip
moving its way deep into my core
these moments, these painful, destructive, moments
are the only thing that strangely brings me peace
because the pain lets me know im alive
and that maybe one day they will be over
to never return
these desolate moments alone
clinging to feelings of self hatred
when i feel like i will never win
i remember that i am still here
much alive

and that my lungs are still gasping for hope
that my heart is still beating for something

other than this self induced hell

Friday, September 23, 2011

the f word

you have all heard it before. easy to say. even easier to spell. short. to the point. simple. everyone knows what it means. there is no need to look it up in the dictionary. and even worse it shoots out like venom and quickly infects anyone its aimed at. such an easy word to say.

fat girl. fat thighs. fat face. fat stomach. fat ankles. fat hands. fat cheeks. fat. fat. fat.

if i had a penny for every time i heard a person refer to another by this word-- i would be the richest person alive.

what a disgusting reality.

i have been called every variation of this word but for some reason the real thing stings much more. the association with this word is so negative, so heavy, so painful.

how many time when you are telling a friend about a girl you cant stand have you said, "oh yeah, the fat girl" or the "fat one" or the "big one"? or how many times when you find out your ex boyfriend is dating someone new does your friend comfort you by saying, "don't worry though, she's fat" and strangely enough you find comfort in that?

but then on the opposite side of things when you are talking about a girl of normal size do you say, "oh the average weight girl" or "the skinny girl"? never. because for some reason weight is instantly not important.

i can honestly say that NEVER in my life have i called a girl or person fat. especially as an insult. i have consciously made a decision to not point that out because honestly...whats the point?

calling someone fat doesn't make me skinnier.
calling someone fat doesn't make me prettier.
calling someone fat doesn't make them any less of a person.

and in all reality it would make ME less of a person.

even when someone calls another person fat not as an insult it still makes me feel sick. because instantly it takes who that person is as a person and throws it out the window. by putting that fat label on someone it takes away from all the other wonderful things they are. it insantly says THIS is what is really important about that person. nothing else they have to offer.

i recently found out i have been referred to as "big katie" and "fat katie". the reality of that hurt because it made me realize how much my weight is seen by other people. but then. it pissed me off quite frankly. because how many of my other friends have a quirkly little title before their name exposing their biggest insecurities. like pimple sarah? b.o. dan? freakishly tall mike? saggy boobs kendra? (those are all made up people by the way). would that be socially acceptable? what if i walked into a party and said, "hey stuff-your-bra-to-make-your-boobs-look-bigger amanda! how are you?" how would people react? I'll tell you. they would freak out! call me some variation of the b word and tell me i am malicious. but if someone calls me "fat katie" its okay because i laughed it off.

NO its not okay.

the fact of the matter is everyone is insecure about something. but exposing someones weight seems to be the most socially accepted because people laugh it off and joke about it to hide how it really feels. no one wants their insecurities brought to the attention of others. would you want yours talked about casually like the weather? probably not.

think about how many times you have referred to someone as fat. or joked with a friend about them being fat. or about someone else being fat. think about how many times you've said the word fat?

then thing about how many times was that word used to uplift someone? to give them encouragement? once? twice?
probably never.

fat is a negative word. an evil word. it is cancer to self esteem. it echos through the insecure's mind and buries itself deep into the crevices of their hearts.

the next time you are describing someone think about the adjectives you are using. think about how many times a day you say something about the way a person looks to describe them. and realize just like the "f word" our parents taught us about, its just as vile, just as destructive, and should be treated the same way.