tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25062883790852886352024-03-13T22:29:05.316-07:00one size fits mostkatehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18446611340975476629noreply@blogger.comBlogger37125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506288379085288635.post-60009095644977560322013-04-14T00:25:00.000-07:002013-04-14T00:25:01.311-07:00a princess, a war, and a tower. <br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i have always had the idea that i was a princess in the tower</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">waiting to be rescued</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">by a knight in shining armor </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">galloping on a steed </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">bursting onto the scene</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">slaying dragons, you know, the works.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">but when i started to think about it</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">who is to say that i have found my way to the tower?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">that i have battled across the scorched desert?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and freezing mountains peeks?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">that i have crossed brimstone and fire?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and have slayed my dragons?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">how can i have my knight save me from a place that i haven't even found?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">how can i be worthy of saving when i haven't even fought for myself? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">right now i am stuck somewhere between hot as hell deserts and vile brimstone.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and someone forget to mention in the manual that there are dragons all along the way.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">breathing fire.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">spitting venom.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">trying to keep me from my castle.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">from being told i am the fairest in all the land.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">that i am worthy of being fought for.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and much to be loved.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">for some reason this dragon i have been fighting is much bigger than expected. and much meaner than i could ever have imagined in my darkest nightmares. it's been beating me down. crushing me under it's large talons. scraping and bruising me. ripping me apart. limb by limb. i stopped lifting my hands to fight. because it's easier to curl up and wait for the darkness to take over.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">wait for the pain to become a steady dull numb.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">wait for it to be over.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">to consume all that's left of me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">wait to finally.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">just.</span><br />
<strike><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">die.</span></strike><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">but something i learned a long time ago came upon me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">like that first breath of air after being held under water too long. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">like my lungs were learning what air was for the first time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i realized that i set out on this journey in a pair of flats and pool floaties. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">how on earth could i face battle when i have no armor? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i have nothing protecting me except these weak hands and ever stumbling feet.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">how could i have been so proud to think i can do this alone?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i am the farthest thing from a warrior.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i am weak.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i am faithless.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i am weary.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i am heavy-laden.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">but surprisingly enough,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i have not been defeated.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">because i am no longer walking this journey alone.</span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i never really was.</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i have Someone who has been fighting with me all along.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">through my rivers and over my mountains.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">who wanted to step in front of me and help take the powerful blows crashing down on me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">but i wouldn't let Him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i didn't need Him to help me with <b>this</b>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>this</b> was mine, <b>this</b> monster, <b>this</b> journey.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">it's too personal to invite Him into <b>this</b> arena.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He can handle everything else. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">all my other dragons.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">all my other battles.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">but <b>this</b> one, <b>this one i could fight on my own.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">or so i have been telling myself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">but i can't do it alone.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i can <u>not</u> do it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i am too small for this big battle.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i have been david without his slingshot.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">noah without his ark.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">just throwing pebbles at this giant.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">using my little floaties to help me from drowning.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">but i need more than me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">more than all i have in all of my strength.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i need Him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i need His armor. i need His sword. i need His shield. i need His breastplate. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i need His place of rest. </span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">i need His help in<b> this.</b></span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i need Him more than i need a victory. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">because i am so unable and so fragile.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i always thought the tower gig was about being rescued.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">taken away from the castle.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">away from the beasts.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">but it's not about being rescued.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">its about me fighting to earn my place upon that tower. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and to be someone worth fighting for.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i thought that the desert and fire was for the knight to battle.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">but it's not.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">it's for me. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">it's my fire i have to smother.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">it's my dragon i have to slay.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">it's my tower i have to climb the steps up to.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i have to fight for myself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">to believe that i am worthy of the fight.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">to know i am worthy of love.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">worthy of happily ever after.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and when i complete the journey.</span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">whenever that may be.</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and i finally reach my tower</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">perched up high in the clouds.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i will be in a place of happiness.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">with who i am. and who i use to be.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">in a dwelling and deep love affair with the One who was wiping off my dirty knees.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and healing my broken bones all along the way.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i will be dancing and growing with the One who whispered lovely and beautiful into my deafened ears when the war got too loud.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i will be in a place where i can delight and be delighted in.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">where i can rest.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i will be ready and worthy of being fought for.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">because i, <b>not alone</b>, had won the war waged against me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and found completion in the King who made me a princess worthy of a tower. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i won't need someone to rescue me anymore.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">because my knight wont have shining armor.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">it will be rusted and cracked.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">he will have his own wounds.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">his own defeats.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and his own victories.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">when i was fighting against my demons,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">he was in some other desert.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">in some other place.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">clinging on for dear life in his own avalanches and wars.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">getting to a place where he knew his worth.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">as a man.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">as a son.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">as a prince.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">where he learned his steps didn't move forward unless he put each and every movement into the hands of the only One who could save him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and when he finally reaches me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">in my precious tower.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i won't be sleeping.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i won't be surrounded by dwarfs.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i won't have ridiculously long hair.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">or singing dishes and brooms.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">but i will<b> know</b> i am loved.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and <b>believe</b> i am worthy.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i will stick out my hands.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and let him run his rugged fingers across my battle scars.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i can tell him i fought for my happiness, i fought to find love for myself in this broken world, i fought with the One who created and saved my soul, and i fought to give him a heart that he deserves. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and he will show me his scars.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">his broken bones.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">his cracked ribs.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and tell me he fought for himself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">he fought for his Redeemer.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">he fought for the right that one day he could love me the way a princess deserves.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and we will leave that tower behind.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">for a new path.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">a new journey.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">a new Kingdom to strive for.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">with my heart full</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and my heart complete.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">we will set out on the journey.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the three of us.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">there will be more harsh climates.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and beasts to defeat.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">but i wont be alone.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<i><b><u><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">because i never really was. </span></u></b></i><br />
katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18446611340975476629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506288379085288635.post-74425596641868791972013-01-06T00:04:00.001-08:002013-01-06T00:04:30.318-08:00dear body<br />
i saw something online about this and though i feel silly, i feel its necessary for us. for us to move on from here. what i found said to write a letter to someone you've wronged. it can be a family member, a friend, or even an enemy. you don't have to give it to them. you can tuck it away in a dresser drawer somewhere. you can light a match and watch it burn til it's nothing but a pile of dust. or you can roll it up, put it in a glass bottle, and let it wash away into the sea. whichever way you decide to go the words you've been holding onto in your heart for so long will finally be out in the open. you will rid them from bouncing around the confines of your chest. you will finally be free of the pain that's been building.<br />
<br />
so here is goes.<br />
<br />
dear body,<br />
<br />
i know we've had our ups and downs. to be honest, mostly we've had our downs. i have hated you, humiliated you, and tortured you. i've always wished you were something you are not and never once taken the time to appreciate anything you've done for me. i constantly focus on all your faults and never once thanked you for the good you've done. i am a hypocrite like that. i wish people wouldn't judge me for the way you look but all i do is constantly bash you for looking the way you do. i am your worst enemy. i should have stood up for you when someone would call you a name. i shouldn't have whispered venom into your skin every single time i looked at you in the mirror. i shouldn't have gone to extremes to try to change you. i shouldn't have gorged myself then purged myself. i should have tried to find ways to love you through all of the bad i saw. how can i expect people to see me for who i really am when all i am is a monster to myself? i have been evil, dangerous, and malicious to you. and i am so sorry for that. i wish there was something else i could offer but there is nothing i have left to give. just three words. i. am. sorry. i am sorry for so many things. but mostly i am sorry for hating you. for poking you. picking at you. pushing you. for never taking care of you. for never once being thankful that you are the reason i can wake up in the morning. that you are the reason i can get over sicknesses. that you are the reason my legs move one after another. i am sorry i have only focused on hating one part of you when there is so much more to you that i never took time to be appreciative of. i know we have a long journey ahead of us. and i can't promise i will always be good to you. but i can promise that i will try to be better. that i will try to love you. and i will try not to hurt you anymore. i want this new year to be a year of change. a heart change. a love change. a take care of us both change. and i hope i can give back to you the way you've always given to me.<br />
<br />
i am sorry for the past.<br />
but im hopeful for the future.<br />
<br />
love,<br />
kate<br />
<br />
katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18446611340975476629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506288379085288635.post-4865870931656849042012-10-16T00:11:00.001-07:002012-10-16T00:11:45.260-07:00dear kate,<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">ive missed you. god, ive missed you terribly. i convinced myself that you weren't gone but once i took the time to stop and look you were no where to be found. ive been keeping myself busy to not have to miss you. i numb the hurt with constant plans and meaningless technology because i don't want to think about you anymore.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">but i do. and i cant hide it anymore.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">i miss you smiling throughout the day because you feel pretty when the sunlight is shining on your skin or when your favorite song comes on the radio that you aren't afraid to sing it loud. i miss you writing down your thoughts on napkins and on the back of old receipts because you are afraid the moment will pass and that thought will be gone forever. i miss how you use to long for the ocean. that sandy, salty water could always mend any wound and that the smell of trees reminds you of a time when you were invincible. i miss that you weren't afraid to live or to cry or to feel. that you were carefree. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">that you were <i><b><span style="font-size: xx-small;">free.</span></b></i> </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">i miss all the things that use to make you you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">because you aren't her anymore.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>you're gone.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">when i close my eyes and breath deep and slow i can remember a time when you were happy. when i felt like everything was going to work out. when i knew deep in my heart it was all going to be okay. i honestly don't know what happened. maybe i stopped trying. maybe i should have fought harder. maybe i got too consumed with all the bad that i forgot about all the good.<i> the good</i>. ahh i use to believe there was so much good in you. but i let others convince me otherwise. im so sorry i didn't believe in you enough to tell them they are wrong. i know they are wrong but why cant i say it? why cant i truly believe it? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">i wish i was stronger. for you. but im trying. im trying to remember that smile. remember how it felt to feel beautiful. trying to long for the things that use to make my heart alive. i want you back. i want me back. i don't want to be a shell of the girl i use to be. i want to be the beating heart girl i am meant to be. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">i want to be happy and look in the mirror and say, "it is good."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">i want to smile just because i can't help it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">i don't want to miss the girl i use to be anymore because i finally found her again. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">i want to be better.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">i want to be stronger.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">i want to be me again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">i want to be carefree.</span></div>
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<i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">i want to be <b><span style="font-size: large;">free.</span></b></i></div>
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katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18446611340975476629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506288379085288635.post-26630583658216268782012-06-06T08:50:00.003-07:002012-06-06T08:55:12.638-07:00uncomfortable<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
monday was a good day for me.<br />
in fact, <a href="http://fromkatewithlovee.blogspot.com/2012/06/delcaration-of-good-todays-every-day.html" target="_blank">i delcared it would be good. </a><br />
and for the most part: it was.<br />
<br />
i woke up in a good mood. i got to work on time and even had time to make something for breakfast. although the day seemed to drag on for an eternity, when i got home from work i changed into my new work out clothes and took off to the park to start my new walking/jogging routine. i listened to music and walked around the park that was filled with dog walkers, joggers, and disk golfers. i traveled over little bridges and under beautiful shady trees. i ate healthy all day, drank way over my eight glasses of water, and though the florida air was making my breaths harder to take in- i felt amazing.<br />
<br />
another thing i decided to start this week is to try to go a whole entire week without wearing a pair of spanx, or a sucker-inner (that's usually what i call it.) i feel confined and trapped and i realized that i preach about loving your natural body but i squish mine down with spandex every chance i get. so this week i decided to be sucker-inner free. <br />
<br />
<i>take that spandex</i>. </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">but i digress.</span><br />
<br />
after eating a little dinner i made my way up to meet some people for monday night bible study. i hadn't had any caffeine all day and was dragging so i decided to get some black tea to sip on during study. i am a regular at the starbucks we have bible study at and see them all on a weekly basis. one of the girls behind the counter took my order and as i was paying she asked me a strange question.<br />
<b><br />"are you uncomfortable?"</b><br />
<br />
it definitely took me a second to process what she asked. all i could think of is that it was such a weird question to ask someone. i mean, ive seen her there before but i wouldn't consider her a friend or someone i talk to other than the here and there chatting. i don't even know her name so why is she asking if im uncomfortable?<br />
<br />
so i responded, <i>"uncomfortable? what do you mean?"</i><br />
<br />
and then she said the unthinkable. <br />
<b><br />"oh, aren't you pregnant?" </b><br />
<br />
pregnant?<br />
PREGNANT?<br />
as in with child?<br />
<br />
i tried to play it cool and not embarrass her and said,<i> "oh no im not. sorry." </i><br />
<br />
i could tell she realized her mistake and tried to play it off swearing it was me or maybe one of my other friends. i pretended one of my other friends was pregnant and said that we look alike so its hard to tell and laughed through it all. i didn't want to make her feel bad.</div>
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i should have said, <span style="font-size: large;">"well now i am uncomfortable."</span> but i didn't want to make the situation worse. i smiled, laughed, and apologized for the confusion. </div>
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<br />
it wasn't until i sat down that it truly hit me. <u><span style="font-size: small;">why on earth was i the one who apologized?</span></u> why was i trying to not embarrass her? why were my concerns on her feelings when she didn't even consider mine before she opened her mouth? she is the one who mortified me and said the one thing you <b>never, ever, ever</b> say to a woman unless you have attended her baby shower, seen the sonogram, and physically felt the baby kick. if none of those things happen you <b>NEVER </b>ask a woman if shes pregnant. even if she looks 10 months pregnant.</div>
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<br />
my first thought was to leave. flee. run as far away as i could. but my bible was already at the table and there was no way to make a quick escape. my second thought was, <i>"why didn't i wear my stupid spanx?"</i><br />
<br />
the next few hours all i felt was embarrassment. i kept looking down at my non-pregnant belly and wishing i could crawl in a hole somewhere. my mind starting racing at the ideas of all the things that i could use to patch up this hole that got punched right in my stomach. <br />
<br />
but i had to tell myself no.<br />
NO.<br />
no i wont let you go on a binge and ruin everything good in this day because someone said something stupid. no i wont let you self sabotage and self medicate. no.<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">no.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">no.</span><br />
<br />
and you know what?<br />
i listened to myself.<br />
and instead of going home and stuffing my face with everything i could find i went over to a friends house. and we walked down the dock and hung our feet over the edge and i tossed all those thoughts into the sea under a full bright moon.<br />
<br />
there will always be stupid people who come your way. there will always be a billboard, magazine, and tv show that makes you feel less than worthy. there will always be <i>"that something"</i> for you. but its the moments after that matter. its the do or die. its what you do when you think no one else is watching. when every lie you hear starts to taste bitter instead of like a sweet escape. when you have every option to break but you chose to hold yourself together. even just one last time.<br />
<br />
i may bend.<br />
i may scar. <br />
but i will not break.</div>
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<b>never, ever again.</b></div>katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18446611340975476629noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506288379085288635.post-35958375899286568902012-05-25T07:37:00.001-07:002012-05-25T07:40:43.931-07:00in my skin<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
i always feel like im fitting too tightly. that im just barely meeting the weight requirements. <i>you must be this weight to be comfortable in life.</i> when i get on an elevator i pray that another bigger person doesn't get on because we will all go down. we maxed out the limit.<b> </b></div>
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<b>i maxed out the limit. </b><br />
<br />
but mostly im always feeling too big. like when mario gets one of those magical mushrooms and sizes up. but unfortunately there is nothing magical about my large body. and unlike mario i don't get to shrink back down after a while. <br />
<br />
i am always in the way. in the hallway. in the kitchen. in the aisle at the grocery store. in every room i go in. im always blocking the road like a giant boulder. <i>can someone grab a bulldozer and get her out of the way please?</i><br />
<br />
and to be honest i cant breath. i squeeze into tiny plane seats and pray my seat belt clicks. or like the time i got asked to get off a roller coaster because the harness wouldn't snap shut. the walk of shame i had to take past girls from school giggling because i was too big. the pain and humiliation pressed on me harder than that harness ever did. and my clothes. they hug and grasp me in all the wrong places and i count down the minutes til i can get home and take off the sucker-inners and spanx. all of those things that hold me in throughout the day and melt onto my skin. all of the things that make me take short and shallow breaths. and all of the money poured into objects that make me feel just a <i><span style="font-size: x-small;">tiny bit smaller. </span></i><br />
<br />
but i realized that no matter what i always feel too big for my own skin. despite the spanx and <strike><i>"look instantly slimmer"</i></strike> clothing. looking at myself undressed is like looking at a distorted image. things are shifted and changed and not where they are suppose to be. i feel like ive reached my limit and maxed out my living space within the confines of my skin. <br />
<br />
i wish i could bulldoze it down and build from the ground up. lay a smaller foundation and fill the rooms with less stuff. <b>less garbage.</b> but it doesn't work that way unfortunately. its not something you can just start all over.<br />
<br />
my wish is to take up less room. to fill less of a chair. to sit comfortably in a restaurant booth. to not be terrified of the middle seat on a plane. the constant worries and planning makes my head spin. everything is mapped out and every possible problem is analyzed and stressed on before it ever has a chance to happen. <br />
<br />
i want to fill up space with life not body. i want to command the attention of a room with jokes and laughter not murmurs of, <i>"have you seen her recently"'s</i>. but most of all i want to fit comfortably in my own skin. like it is a custom gown that was designed just for me. i want to dance in it all night, run my hands across its silky frame, and love everything about it. i want to fit in it perfectly. and like a gown...i want to feel beautiful in it. a beauty that seeps in through tiny little pores and makes you smile because you are just so damn happy.<br />
<br />
i don't want to be too big.<br />
i don't want to feel like everything is too tight.<br />
i don't want to feel like a stranger in someone else's skin.<br />
i want to be like mama bears chair in goldie locks.<br />
<b>i want to be just the right size. </b></div>katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18446611340975476629noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506288379085288635.post-88208140128475883392012-05-18T09:29:00.001-07:002012-05-18T09:29:17.554-07:00perfect.<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">"What is it about different that makes us think it's not perfect? We set the bar higher and higher and once we reach it, this perfection, what have we achieved? It's never enough...The concept of perfection is not flawless or ripped from a magazine. It's happiness. Happiness with all its messiness and not-quite-thereness. Its knowing that life is short and the moments we choose to fill our cups up with should be purposeful and rich. That we should be present for life. That we should drink deeply. That's perfection."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">-Kelle Hampton </span></div>katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18446611340975476629noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506288379085288635.post-88623748144738833802012-05-08T13:06:00.001-07:002012-05-08T13:06:33.475-07:00i need your help.<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">
i have talked a lot on the subject of beauty throughout one size fits most. ive shared my struggles with self esteem and never feeling like i was quite pretty enough. i talked about times when i felt completely beautiful and other times when i absolutely hated everything about myself. i realized recently though that the way i see beauty is completely different than the way others see beauty. and it got me thinking about how each and every person defines beauty.<br /><br />so i decided to ask:<br /><b>how do you define beauty? <br />or when do you feel the most beautiful?</b><br /><br /><i>for girls</i>: is it a feeling? something you can create? is it a certain outfit you wear? or the way that someone looks at you? <br /><br /><i>for guys:</i> is it the way a woman carries herself? is it all physical? is it different for each woman?</div>
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<br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">you tell me.</span><br />comment on the blog.<br />message me on facebook.<br />send me an email.<br /><br />tell me what makes you feel the most radiantly beautiful. or what makes a woman beautiful to you. </div>
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i am excited to see what you all think.<br /><3</div>katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18446611340975476629noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506288379085288635.post-67787687163843628422012-05-01T20:59:00.000-07:002012-05-01T21:04:20.315-07:00new life. old me.<div aria-label="Message body" class="msg-body inner undoreset" id="yui_3_2_0_1_13359293392721990" role="main" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; margin-bottom: 22px; margin-left: 23px; margin-right: 24px; margin-top: 25px; overflow-x: auto; overflow-y: hidden; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">one thing i told myself i wanted to do when i moved to florida was be a new person. i wanted to leave the insecurities, struggles, and haunting past in the dust and never look back. <a href="http://onesizefitsmost-kate.blogspot.com/2011_07_01_archive.html" target="_blank">last summer</a> when i visited i really loved the freedom of not knowing anyone here. i didn't worry about wearing make up all the time or about the way my hair looked. i wore goofy sun hats and was more concerned with the sun on my skin than whatever clothes i was wearing. i promised myself it would be like that again. <i>this new life would be different. </i><br /><br />but unfortunately, i haven't been upholding my self made promise. i have found myself fidgeting with my hair so much that one of my friends literally yells at me to stop. it takes me too long to decide what to wear and whenever i do make a decision i spend the remainder of the evening pulling and fixing and trying to make myself look good. i stress and over analyze everything.<br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">but why?<br />why is this time different?</span><br /><br />i have been here the same time length as i was last summer but this time it seemed to be harder. i have been asking myself this question since i got here and i think i might finally know why.<br /><br /><b>this was suppose to be my new life. </b><i>and i was suppose to be new too</i>. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">now don't get me wrong. i wasn't under the illusion that as soon as i moved here pounds would fall off of me and my body would magically transform into something beautiful. but i <u>was</u> hoping i would be different. that i would be able to let go of all that garbage i cling to for reassurance in my self disgust. that i would finally get better </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">or whatever that means</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">. that i could let go and live my life not plagued by doubt and insecurity. </span></div>
<div aria-label="Message body" class="msg-body inner undoreset" id="yui_3_2_0_1_13359293392721990" role="main" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; margin-bottom: 22px; margin-left: 23px; margin-right: 24px; margin-top: 25px; overflow-x: auto; overflow-y: hidden; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">it has been hard this time around because i have started to make friends and people have gotten to know me. the real me. not the better version i was hoping to have finished by the time i settled in.<br /><br />kate 2.0. </span></div>
<div aria-label="Message body" class="msg-body inner undoreset" id="yui_3_2_0_1_13359293392721990" role="main" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; margin-bottom: 22px; margin-left: 23px; margin-right: 24px; margin-top: 25px; overflow-x: auto; overflow-y: hidden; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">i guess in all reality i just really want to be liked. i know that sounds so petty and childish but it's true. i want people to really see me and like me. i want to be the kind of person people want to be friends with. i want to be pretty. put together. i want to seem like i have it all figured out.<br /><br /><b>but i don't. </b><br /><br />im not put together. im flawed. cracked. broken. imperfect.<br /><br />and i don't have it all figured out. heck, i haven't even figured myself out yet.<br /><br />but i am starting to think that that's all okay. because i've met new people since i moved here and for some strange reason they do like me despite my grocery list of flaws. </span></div>
<div aria-label="Message body" class="msg-body inner undoreset" id="yui_3_2_0_1_13359293392721990" role="main" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; margin-bottom: 22px; margin-left: 23px; margin-right: 24px; margin-top: 25px; overflow-x: auto; overflow-y: hidden; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">im not sure who i will become or what will be my story as time goes on out here. but i have hope that it will be something farther away from where i am now. a baby step in the right direction is still a step away from where i am now. and every day i make a move is a day i am closer to happiness. i can't leave who i was in the past and expect to become brand new. that would mean every struggle i have gone through and all of the progress i made was for nothing.</span></div>
<div aria-label="Message body" class="msg-body inner undoreset" id="yui_3_2_0_1_13359293392721990" role="main" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; margin-bottom: 22px; margin-left: 23px; margin-right: 24px; margin-top: 25px; overflow-x: auto; overflow-y: hidden; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>i know i'll become the woman i want to be one day.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i> she just needs a little more time to get ready. </i></span></div>katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18446611340975476629noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506288379085288635.post-42431811420040077842012-04-30T11:39:00.001-07:002012-04-30T11:47:25.732-07:00a beautiful weekend.<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
i felt beautiful this weekend. actually, three times i felt honest to goodness beautiful. <i>from the tips of my toes to the very deepest place in my soul</i>. i know that's something weird to say but i guess the only way i can describe it is feeling completely content with who i am in every single way. and that's something i am not use to feeling.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>friday night:</b></span></div>
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the night had definitely not gone according to plan and had turned into some kind of nightmare. but around midnight me and jordan decided to go to the beach. i had never been at night before and the stars were twinkling too sweet to go ignored. we had both dressed up earlier in the evening in dresses and skinny jeans and drew on eyeliner for our planned girls night that unfortunately never happened. we first climbed up the lifeguards tower and enjoyed the awesome view from being so high. eventually my feet started aching for cold sand to wiggle between my toes so we made our way to the waters edge. the moment our toes touched the warm water we both got the same idea at once. we stripped off our heels and skinny jeans and ran back towards the water with our mini dresses covering just enough that we weren't indecent. we splashed around, chased the waves, and danced in the water. we both sat down and let the waves wash over us. our wet and sandy dresses clung to our skin and yet we didn't care. we were happy, we were completely content with the universe, <b>and we were beautiful.</b> we laid in the sandy water for a long while and talked about life and love and regret. i remember walking away when it was starting to get too late and feeling like the ocean gave me something. something indescribable. i feel like i took a piece of the gorgeous emerald coast and buried deep into myself in the place only i can see. something just for me and something to keep always. it gave me a piece of freedom i never knew existed.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>saturday night:</b></span></div>
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late in the evening i had been talking to a new friend i met here, steven, about the beaches and he asked me if i wanted to go with him. it was 10pm and i was in my pjs but i decided to go for it. he drove to my house and came to the front door to come get me when he had arrived. in all my years of spending time with guy friends i have never once had a guy come to my front door. i had never felt more feminine and girly opening it up and seeing someone waiting for me. he of course asked me how i was doing as soon as we started walking towards his truck and once we were driving he said it might be cold so we stopped by his house so he could get me a jacket. we went by starbucks and pumped caffeine into our veins before heading to the island. he played me his favorite songs and we sang along to the black keys as my hair whipped and tangled around in the passenger seat. we sat for a little bit while he played me some songs he had written and the waves complimented the guitar in a perfect harmony. we eventually walked through a hotel to get to the beach and as soon as my toes touched the sand a smile spread across my face. we left our shoes by the dock and took off towards the water. i slipped on his sweatshirt and the two of us walked down the beach with our feet getting tickled by the waves that stretched out to reach us then receded back to their home just to come back again. to be honest i don't know how long we were walking. we laughed as we got to know each other and walked until we knew it was almost too far. the thing i like about steven is i feel like ive known him all my life. that's how comfortable i am around him and only after knowing him a week. and the weird thing is that even though this could have been a romantic moment-it wasn't. because i know he doesn't feel that way for me and i want him in my life just as a friend. but as we walked down the beach i felt completely at peace. with myself and around this handsome guy i normally would have been insecure around. i played in the waves and got soaked from the waist down but i didn't worry about what he thought or how i looked. all i cared about was tasting the air. feeling the hard sand beneath my feet. and letting go of all the insecurities that would have normally ruined this moment for me. after we were walking in silence for a little bit he simply said, "im glad i met you" and i agreed. and not just because i made a new friend but because being around him makes me feel beautiful. and that's how ive always deserved to feel.<br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">sunday morning:</span></b><br />
i woke up early and got ready to go to church with my new friend patrick. i waved my hair, dusted on a purple eyeliner to make my eyes look especially blue, and slipped on one of my favorite sundresses. i wore a pair of bow flats and misted myself with a sunny perfume. i walked down the street to his house and the whole way there i gave thanks for how beautiful the day was. i met a few of his friends before church and smiled honestly when i met them. ive always been insecure about my smile but these three men made me smile genuinely and without worry. there was something good about their presence that made me want to be the best and truest version of myself. the service was great and i even sang along without trying to mute my voice so i wouldn't be heard. i laughed and smiled and joked without once thinking about the way i looked or how they were viewing me. because i honestly think they saw me for me. for who i am. and they didn't mind how she looked. i felt beautiful and sun kissed in the florida sunshine and like all the baggage and insecurities ive been toting around fell off of me like a cleansing rain. <br />
<br />
of course throughout this weekend there were times i fixed my hair too much. moments i fiddled and bit my lip in nerves. and hours i stressed and cried over the way i looked. but there were three times this weekend that i felt the truest and most beautiful i have ever felt in my life. all three were different times and in different places. i was a different kate in every instance but still felt truly authentic. they might have been fleeting and momentary but i guess its a hope to hold on to and a goal to strive for. the truth is the times i felt the most beautiful were the times i wasn't trying. and i would like to think that counts for a lot. because beauty isn't something manufactured. beauty is something created from deep inside ourselves and something felt in our entire being. and this weekend i felt that feeling truly from the bottom of my soul and i hope that's something i never forget. </div>katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18446611340975476629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506288379085288635.post-61365619188781462552012-04-20T07:04:00.004-07:002012-04-20T07:04:45.649-07:00online article<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">this author in this article seemed irritated by the banning of these images which made me furious. what do you think?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;"><a href="http://news.yahoo.com/pro-anorexia-%E2%80%98thinspiration%E2%80%99-photos-shouldn%E2%80%99t-be-banned-from-social-media.html" target="_blank">thinspo article</a></span><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18446611340975476629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506288379085288635.post-48190770259072605932012-02-25T14:29:00.001-08:002012-02-25T14:30:43.542-08:00i can be both<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">as many of you know i have struggled a lot with femininity much of my life. i have written blogs dedicated completely to the subject. i have had the hardest time trying to decided between being one of the guys or being a girly girl. but last week i realized that<em> i can be both.</em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">i woke up at six am in the morning to get ready for the day. i took a shower and spent time plucking my eyebrows and washing my face. i got into my little white car parked in the driveway and with damp hair and sweatpants i drove to the grocery store up the street. there i filled my small hand basket with cinnamon, sugar, biscuits, and almond extract. i smiled when the cashier said, "have a wonderful day ms.sutton" because for some reason that always makes me happy. i then spent the next few hours getting my hands messy in a sugary-cinnamon dream while carefully rolling each cinnamon bun into little balls of yummy. once the cinnamon balls were in the oven i finished taming my wet curls and painting a sparkly sunset of golds and pinks onto my eyelids. after slipping on my cowboy boots and flowery blue top i filled the still warm rolls into a little wicker basket and skipped out the door.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">i waited a few minutes outside my friend robs house until he finally answered the door. with his locks of hair stretching in a million different directions and squinty eyes i could tell he had just woken up. as we waited for our other two friends to arrive we sat in silence as our christmas blend tea brewed in the kettle and warm jazz music serenaded the room. once he had woken up a little bit we quenched our hungry bellies with delicious tea and my mornings cinnamony hard work. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">as soon as the other two arrived the room quickly filled with guns, ammunition, and the smell of men's deodorant. after a few trips to the truck i planted myself in the backseat and was soon swimming in bags of soon to be targets. with windows rolled down and music blasting we made our way up the hill, over the bridge, and down a dirt road that i believed to lead to no where. but once the truck was parked i realized i had stepped into a man made shooting range. made by the three men i was standing with. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">in no time the tailgate was down and loaded with an assortment of different guns and rounds of ammunition. the targets were put in place on the hill and bright orange ear protection was snugly fitting inside our ears. the first shot literally terrified me to the bone. i thought with the ear protection i wouldn't be able to hear anything....boy was i wrong!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">i have shot guns in my life before. i learned when i was little, taught it at summer camp, and even went to a range last year with a friend and got some professional advice. but for some reason being around three men who knew what they were doing, two of them being former marines, i got scared and intimidated. i decided i would be the camera girl for the day and try to take action shots of them blowing up soda bottles and dollar store glass ornaments instead of shooting. but one of my friends insisted i tried and he helped me hold it, load it, and angle it the proper way. it took me a few minutes to actually pull the trigger and when i did i think i screamed in excitement and terror at the power i felt. after unloading the clip and shooting a really, really powerful gun that made me ear ring for twenty minutes; i decided i was done for the day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">but there was something about shooting the gun that made me feel feminine. it was in the way he helped me in a non condescending way. the encouragement they gave me to pull the trigger. and the congratulations they gave me when i actually hit something. all that all made me feel so good.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">normally i would have been stressed out about getting dirt on my jeans the moment i stepped out of the truck (literally mud all over me the moment i got out!). or that by going shooting with guys it made me manly. but this time was different. because i realized that i could still be feminine and myself by baking morning treats and buying lisa frank coloring books at the dollar store and that i can hang with the guys and go shooting and eat sloppy joes the same day. i dont have to pick just one. i know that seems like a simple concept but its something i have struggled with all my life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">it makes me so happy to say i have peace in this all. peace in finding femininity in a room full of men. peace in coloring pictures of puppies in cowboy hats while all the guys watch star trek. and ultimate peace in finally realizing they dont expect me to be anything other than what i am. which is a girl that hangs with guys. a girl that can be both :)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: x-small;">p.s. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: x-small;">some of the targets the guys bought were little dollar store stuffed animal bunnies that were adorable and in a rainbow of different colors. i wanted to keep them all but they kept telling me they were for targets. so after a couple rounds had been shot we went to set back up some of the stuff that had been knocked down or clean out the things that had already been shot. the seafoam green bunny i fell in love with was still in tact and not covered in dirt or mud like his fellow companions. so when no one was looking i saved him and slipped him in my jacket. i almost made it through the rest of the trip but one of his bright little ears popped out of my jacket and i was met with smiles and questionable looks. after some convincing they decided to let me keep my new little bunny friend. so now edmund the bunny has a home always <3</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: xx-small;"><strong><em>hes the one on the left <3</em></strong></span></div>katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18446611340975476629noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506288379085288635.post-60458508605057910692012-02-11T12:40:00.000-08:002012-02-11T12:49:22.085-08:00perfect.<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">there are many definitions and ideas to what the word perfect means. for this post i am going to focus on this definition.</span><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="color: #741b47;">perfect: exactly fitting the need in a certain situation or for a certain purpose</span>. </span></strong><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">i have struggled with the idea of perfection or being perfect for as long as i can remember. every little girl wants to be a <em>perfect</em>, pretty princess, every high school girl wants to be <em>perfect</em> on prom night, every engaged woman desires to be <em>perfectly </em>beautiful at their wedding, and every person dreams of being seen as enough. as <em>perfec</em>t. because we feel that by being perfect we are the epitome of wholeness and togetherness and by having those things that we are without flaw. in society we have been told that in order to be <strong>"perfect</strong>" we need to be a certain size, a certain weight,or a certain idea of attractive to be seen as perfect. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">somehow the definition of perfect has been directly related to the way a person looks. a common phrase people say is that,<strike> "no one is perfect".</strike> and by societies standards that is absolutely correct. while there may be a few people who do fall into all those categories the general population of people do not. but that does not mean that we don't strive to reach this unreachable idea of perfection.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">this blog is dedicated to talking about the tortures and heartaches ive put myself through to try to reach this goal and how it hasn't worked out so well for me. all of the ads advertising, <em><span style="font-size: large;">"lose weight now"</span></em> or plastic surgeons that are in business are around because of people trying to perfect themselves or make themselves seem flawless. a tighter face. a smaller stomach. a bigger butt. all those things and hundreds more. ive talked about my opinions of plastic surgery before </span><a href="http://onesizefitsmost-kate.blogspot.com/2011/10/under-knife-and-microscope.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">here.</span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> but sadly no matter how many surgeries and crash diets a person goes on they will never meet societies view of what they <u>should be</u>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">but there is hope</span>. because in the true definition of perfect, <strike>and not societies depiction and warped opinion</strike>, it states that being perfect <em>is exactly fitting the need in a certain situation or for a certain purpose</em>. so by definition, being perfect is fulfilling a purpose in which you were designed for. no where does it give requirements. no where does it say you have to be a size zero or have a certain size bust. it doesn't even address artificial attributes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">and for some reason that reality gave me immense peace. ibecause no, i will never look like a super model. i will never be tall enough, pretty enough, or skinny enough for that.<strong><em><u> but i can be</u></em></strong> too loud, too emotional, too compassionate, and too much sometimes. <strong><em><u>i can be</u></em></strong> overweight, frumpy, and unattractive and that's all okay. because that's the person i am meant to be. that is the person i am. and by <strong>being myself, which is a very flawed girl, i can still be perfect.</strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">so by writing this blog i am in definition--perfect. i am writing my heart and addressing issues i feel that are too important to ignore. im exactly fitting the purpose that i was intended for. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">of course i have many, many flaws and society will look at me and shake their heads in disgust. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>because society focuses on who we should be</strong> <em><span style="font-size: large;">and not who we really are</span></em>. they want to change us instead of accept us. the true peace i find is that by embracing this view of perfection i don't have to do anything. i don't have to change or warp anything. all i have to do is strive to be a better person but never a different person. i just have to be me because i know i am enough. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">i am perfect.<br /><strong><em>and you are the definition of what perfection truly is.</em></strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">don't ever believe anything else.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">{i heard this song on the radio the other day and it fits perfectly with this post}</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">made a wrong turn</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">once or twice</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">dug my way out</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">blood and fire</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">bad decisions</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">that's alright</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">welcome to my silly life</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">mistreated</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">misplaced</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">misunderstood</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">miss "no way, it's all good"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">it didn't slow me down</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">mistaken</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">always second guessing</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">under estimated</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">look, i'm still around</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">pretty, pretty please</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">don't you ever, ever feel</span></div>
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<strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">like your less than </span></strong></div>
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<strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">less than perfect</span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">pretty, pretty please</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">if you ever, ever feel</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">like you are nothing</span></div>
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<em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">you are perfect to me</span></em></div>
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<em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">you're so mean</span></em></div>
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<em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">when you talk</span></em></div>
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<em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">about yourself</span></em></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><strong><u>you are wrong</u></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">change the voices</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">in your head</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">make them like you instead</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">so complicated </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">look happy</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">you'll make it</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">filled with so much hatred</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">such a tired game</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">it's enough</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">i've done all i can think of</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">chased down all my demons</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">i've seen you do the same</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">pretty, pretty please</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">don't you ever, ever feel</span></div>
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<strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">like your less than </span></strong></div>
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<strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">less than perfect</span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">pretty, pretty please</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">if you ever, ever feel</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">like you are nothing</span></div>
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<em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">you are perfect to me</span></em></div>
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<br /></div>katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18446611340975476629noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506288379085288635.post-50154433585417066892011-12-17T13:33:00.000-08:002011-12-17T13:44:22.653-08:00a 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. <strong>i apologize.</strong><br />
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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.<br />
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so...<br />
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<em>to be honest. i am exhausted. i am hungry. i am drained. and i am spent. </em><br />
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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. <br />
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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 <u>easier to be angry at the world then deal with being angry at myself.</u><br />
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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<em> hungry</em> 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.<br />
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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 <em><strong>physically or mentally</strong></em>. 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. <br />
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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 <strong>sooner</strong> rather than later.<br />katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18446611340975476629noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506288379085288635.post-12699216934369270172011-12-10T12:03:00.001-08:002011-12-10T12:42:09.144-08:0012.10.11.<div style="text-align: center;">
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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 <em>trying</em>. it wasn't just happening. so, i decided to wait to write until i felt like i was ready.</div>
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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. </div>
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its almost impossible for me to try to put into words what i have been feeling. but all i can share is this song.</div>
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"and you can't fight the tears that ain't coming<br />
or the moment of truth in your lies<br />
when everything feels like the movies <br />
yeah you bleed just to know you're alive<br />
<em>and i don't want the world to see me</em><br />
'cause i don't think that they'd understand</div>
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when every thing's made to be broken <br />
<strong>i just want you to know who i am</strong>"</div>katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18446611340975476629noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506288379085288635.post-62421434066022377312011-11-19T14:22:00.001-08:002011-11-19T14:33:46.150-08:00no pity party here.<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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 <strong>SO</strong> 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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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 <span style="font-size: x-small;"><em>worried </em></span>that i would be <em><span style="font-size: x-small;">worried</span></em> 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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">sure i had a little liquid courage to keep me motivated but the <em><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">WHOLE NIGHT</span></em> 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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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 <em>i really</em> 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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">because in that moment. in that entire evening i was<strong><span style="font-size: large;"> me</span></strong>. i was confident. i was <u>HAPPY</u>. 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. <span style="font-size: x-small;">even if its a little baby step.</span> </span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GxM3akejDgg/TsguQFN8PQI/AAAAAAAAAak/L8eGdXUE9-0/s1600/joe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GxM3akejDgg/TsguQFN8PQI/AAAAAAAAAak/L8eGdXUE9-0/s320/joe.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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thats the birthday boy himself mister joe :)</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UVJF-34gixs/TsguQ43g2dI/AAAAAAAAAas/LxxT184_9pc/s1600/kel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UVJF-34gixs/TsguQ43g2dI/AAAAAAAAAas/LxxT184_9pc/s320/kel.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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my partner in crime and me on the bus. i wouldnt have made it that night without her.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zXnyIetorrA/TsguRZmXuMI/AAAAAAAAAa0/LivW1eV3GBs/s1600/tim.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zXnyIetorrA/TsguRZmXuMI/AAAAAAAAAa0/LivW1eV3GBs/s320/tim.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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me and tim. probably one of the nicest guys i know :)</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PDdTpAgL8mk/TsgusmuNBtI/AAAAAAAAAa8/QYHfVxo5qPg/s1600/group.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PDdTpAgL8mk/TsgusmuNBtI/AAAAAAAAAa8/QYHfVxo5qPg/s320/group.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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some of the group <3</div>katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18446611340975476629noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506288379085288635.post-79728954574708939272011-11-12T11:48:00.001-08:002011-11-12T13:58:30.296-08:00natural kind of beauty.<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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. <em>timeless. </em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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 <strong>SOME</strong> 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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">but for me its the time after that i feel the prettiest. actually, when i feel almost <em>beautiful</em>. 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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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.</span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7nsKvkau0UU/Tr7bxE_l49I/AAAAAAAAAac/ol-Cle3e3pQ/s1600/mask.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" nda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7nsKvkau0UU/Tr7bxE_l49I/AAAAAAAAAac/ol-Cle3e3pQ/s320/mask.jpg" width="240" /></a> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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. </span></div>
</div>katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18446611340975476629noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506288379085288635.post-31986138131779421652011-11-06T16:27:00.001-08:002011-11-06T16:27:29.868-08:00one day.one day<br />
some day<br />
i will be one of the lucky ones<br />
captivating<br />
alluring<br />
and completely mesmerizing<br />
i will steal your attention<br />
and you won't wanna ever see me go<br />
i will be the star of the show<br />
and loved by all<br />
i will be light<br />
i will be free<br />
i will be complete<br />
<br />
but until then<br />
i will be the unlucky one<br />
unnoticed<br />
ashamed<br />
and invisible <br />
the sidekick in the corner<br />
waiting on the bench<br />
for one day<br />
or some day<br />
when i will be more than this<br />
because i am heavy<br />
i am a prisoner<br />
and i am broken. katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18446611340975476629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506288379085288635.post-87693032230626290272011-11-05T10:13:00.000-07:002011-11-05T10:15:23.648-07:00hearts song<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">i was so unique <br />now i feel skin deep <br />i count on the make up to cover it all <br /><em>crying myself to sleep cause i cannot keep their attention </em></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em><br /></em>i thought i could be strong <br />but it's <strong>killing</strong> me <br /><br />does someone hear my cry? <br />i'm dying for new life </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">i want to be <strong>beautiful </strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">make you stand in awe <br />look inside my heart, <br />and be<em> amazed</em> <br />i want to hear you say <br />who i am is <span style="font-size: large;">quite enough </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">just want to be worthy of love <br />and <strong>beautiful</strong> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">sometimes i wish i was someone other than <strong><span style="font-size: xx-small;">me</span></strong> <br />fighting to make the mirror happy <br />trying to find whatever is <strike>missing </strike></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">won't you help me back to glory </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">i want to be <strong>beautiful</strong></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong> </strong>make you stand in awe <br />look inside my heart, <br />and be<em> amazed</em> <br />i want to hear you say <br />who i am is <span style="font-size: large;">quite enough </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">just want to be worthy of love <br />and <strong>beautiful</strong> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><3</span></div>
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<em><span style="font-size: x-small;">beautiful- bethany dillion</span></em></div>katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18446611340975476629noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506288379085288635.post-3103709818982010302011-11-04T19:57:00.000-07:002011-11-05T09:21:21.117-07:00relationsinkingships<div style="text-align: center;">
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<em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: x-small;">relationships.</span></em></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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. <strong>especially, me</strong>. 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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em>its to talk about me.</em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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 shower...it 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?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">i have never had an "official relationship" or anything resembling a normal one at that. i have always wanted it to be easy. <u>boy meets girl. boy likes girl. boy goes after girl. boy falls for girl. boy makes girl his girlfriend.</u> so, so simple. with me its never been that way. because boy has always been <span style="color: #e06666;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">ashamed</span> </span>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 <span style="color: #cc0000;">embarrassed</span> 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."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">and i now know that the answer is <span style="font-size: large;"><strong><em><u>YES.</u></em></strong></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: x-large;"><em>i deserve this.</em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>and i deserve all those things despite all the reasons i have told myself i don't. </strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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. </span></div>katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18446611340975476629noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506288379085288635.post-31064466509532440492011-10-29T11:00:00.000-07:002011-10-29T11:01:30.770-07:00guest post :)<div style="text-align: center;">
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<em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">happy weekend all :)</span></em></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">yesterday i had the honor and privilege to guest post on one of my favorite blogs in this blogosphere. courtney from </span><a href="http://vintch.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">vinch</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> 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 </span><a href="http://vintch.blogspot.com/2011/08/new-series-telescope-heart.html"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">microscope heart series</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> on her blog </span><a href="http://vintch.blogspot.com/2011/10/microscope-heart-kate.html"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">right here. </span></a></div>
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<em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">have a blessed and <strong>safe</strong> weekend.</span></em></div>
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<em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><3</span></em></div>katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18446611340975476629noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506288379085288635.post-86355192929176964572011-10-22T12:51:00.000-07:002011-10-22T12:51:28.395-07:00imperfections 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.<br />
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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. <br />
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<strong><em>JEANS.</em></strong><br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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 <strong>three times</strong>. 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. <br />
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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, <em><span style="font-size: x-small;">cute</span></em>? <br />
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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. <br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--25R8affUfI/TqMd0PpU0YI/AAAAAAAAAaA/IUGHOiWXiBY/s1600/309619_281028801918694_100000347305052_937880_796534791_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" rda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--25R8affUfI/TqMd0PpU0YI/AAAAAAAAAaA/IUGHOiWXiBY/s320/309619_281028801918694_100000347305052_937880_796534791_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18446611340975476629noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506288379085288635.post-18023481694498557722011-10-22T12:06:00.000-07:002011-10-22T12:22:05.265-07:00imperfections.<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">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. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">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. </span></div>
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<br /></div>katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18446611340975476629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506288379085288635.post-34130496003246885602011-10-21T16:09:00.000-07:002011-10-21T16:09:03.549-07:00an apology.<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">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. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><em>but, unfortunately i did. </em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">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 <strong>i struggled. i fell. and i failed myself.</strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">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.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">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.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><u>its what you do after that really counts.</u></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">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. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>but im not giving up and its gonna take a lot more to bring me down. </strong></span>katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18446611340975476629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506288379085288635.post-30486704007350986292011-10-15T12:14:00.000-07:002011-10-15T12:57:56.875-07:00under the knife and microscope.<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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 <em>who i am</em> 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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">i came upon this picture and an article this morning and it really puts all that i am saying in perspective.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: x-small;"><strong>"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."</strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">not even yahoo username mike d. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: x-small;"><em> </em></span><span style="font-family: Georgia;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: x-small;"><strong>“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.”</strong></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: x-small;"><strong>- Elisabeth Kubler-Ross</strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">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? </span></span><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AkcDENxJM8M/Tpng6o-jsJI/AAAAAAAAAZY/ER0cAb9hN1U/s1600/Pearl-in-shell_square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" oda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AkcDENxJM8M/Tpng6o-jsJI/AAAAAAAAAZY/ER0cAb9hN1U/s320/Pearl-in-shell_square.jpg" width="319" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">i am not against surgery when it is necessary but i definitely dont think plastic surgery is the answer to self esteem problems.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">i know that weight isnt the only thing people want to change on their bodies too.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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 <strong>never </strong>have those things. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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 <em>the way we see ourselves</em>, not trying to actually perfect ourselves.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">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? <strong><em><u>who </u></em></strong>would you be without them?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: x-small;"><strong>“Sometimes we strive so hard for perfection that we forget that imperfection is happiness” - Karen Nave </strong></span></div>katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18446611340975476629noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506288379085288635.post-84883598856069935672011-10-11T23:21:00.000-07:002011-10-15T12:14:57.191-07:00drive.<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">tonight was exactly what i needed<br />after an emotionally and physically stressful weekend i let loose a little<br />i rolled the windows all the way down<br />and let the cool october air blow through my hair<br />i cranked up the newest song to woo and romance my heart<br />and sang along with every lyric<br /><span style="font-size: x-small;"><em>maybe a little too loud</em></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">i let my hand play in the wind outside</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">and felt myself be free under the gorgeous full moon<br />i didn't care what the people around me were thinking</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">or what the guys next to me were laughing at<br />i didn't drive down the streets that make me hurt</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">i didn't think of how i looked<br />or what i was wearing</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">who would be judging me</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">or where i was going next</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">i didn't think at all</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">no.<br />i just drove</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">and all i cared about was the breeze on my face and the song in my ears</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">consuming me</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">making me lovely under the moonlight</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">i was simply me</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">unmasked</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">unguarded</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">and wonderfully <strong>happy</strong></span></div>katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18446611340975476629noreply@blogger.com0