It's NEDA: National Eating Disorder Awareness Week.
I had this whole post ready on how I healed my body from my eating disorder and now my life is full of yoga, running, meditation, eating Cadbury Mini-Eggs, and joy.
Which is true and my life is pretty damn sweet.
But this post is going to be about what happens when the demons come back.
I think in order to fully heal, you have to know what it's like to go back into that dark place and force your way out of it. And if people are going to be emailing me their incredible stories of resilience through disordered eating or diagnosed eating disorders, then I should come clean about my experiences in the hope that if someone is going through the same thing that they can see there's light on the other side.
Last year, I relapsed.
I relapsed because I hadn't really healed yet. That's as basic as I can put it. It started in October of 2011 and lasted until March 2012.
I didn't revert back into a completely destructive lifestyle. It was much sneakier. I also seriously do have a gluten and lactose allergy, so don't jump up my ass about that. I was eating enough.
I relapsed in a very specific way, one that, grossly enough, I thought was 'the safest option'; it wouldn't cause my physical appearance to change in any way, and it would provide me an outlet. That's as detailed as I can get about the situation, but just be assured I wasn't doing anything that would put my health in danger.
Still, it angers me that I let myself go back into a place of mental dust that didn't allow me to deal with my stress in a healthy way. I should have gone to more yoga classes. I should have allowed more time to relax, read, or do something fun. I should have allowed myself to cry.
So yes. I relapsed.
And then I stopped.
The way I can attempt to explain it is as follows - when something happens in your life that is a force of nature, positively pulling you towards something wonderful, and you resist that pull, God won't just push you in that direction. He'll kick you. Hard. Over and over again.
You won't be able to run away, because God or Spirit or whatever's up there controlling it all has His of Her foot in your ass. And that's a big, big foot.
Over the course of a few months, I felt that urge to let go and let God, but suppressed it with bad habits that I allowed back into my life because, of course...they were safer than the unknown. A lot of times our bad habits become comforting.
Then, gradually, I started letting some of those walls come down. The feelings came in tidal waves. I did a lot of crying. Sometimes, I wouldn't even know why I was crying. It was old wounds working their way out of me. But I think it's a lot healthier to cry about something than stuff everything down. It was years of unresolved emotions getting purged.
A lot of the time, we don't want to confess our issues because we're afraid the ones we love will leave. If they do leave, or they make you feel like a victim, kick their vindictive, shitty ass out of your life. (haha. shitty ass. that's gross.)
The ones worth their salt will stick around. Not only that, but they will hold your hand and let you cry, and then game plan techniques with you so you don't fall back down the rabbit hole. They will help you because they want to. And it won't come from a place of victimization or judgment. They'll do it because they want you to be your best.
I've been habit-free for a year, and I can say with confidence that I will never relapse again in ANY capacity.
Because sometimes, not always but sometimes....love is enough.
Love can be all it takes to bring you out of the darkness. It'll make you want to love yourself more, and take care of yourself, because you'll start to see yourself the way you are seen. I wanted to love myself more, and take care of myself, because I wanted to keep a certain element of my life. I knew if I let it, it would make me a better person. And it has.
Love makes you want to experience happiness and peace.
Relapsing has no place in my current peace. My life is crazy, so there's not a lot of room for peace, but there is ZERO room for relapsing.
Love is a big thing. It takes up a lot of space.
And if you let it...love will save you.
ally
Friday, March 1, 2013
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
One Billion Rising.
Over It
By Eve Ensler
Over It
I am over rape.
I am over rape culture, rape mentality, rape pages on Facebook.
I am over the thousands of people who signed those pages with their real names without shame
I am over people calling it freedom of speech and justifying it as a joke.
I am over people not understanding that rape is not a joke and I am over being told I don't have a sense of humor, and women don't have a sense of humor, when most women I know (and I know a lot) are really fucking funny. We just don't think that uninvited penises up our anus or our vagina is a laugh riot.
I am over how long it seems to take anyone to ever respond to rape.
I am over the hundreds of thousands of women in Congo still waiting for the rapes to end and the rapists to be held accountable.
I am over the thousands of women in Bosnia, Burma, Syria, Somalia, Pakistan, South Africa, Guatemala, Sierra Leone, Haiti, Afghanistan, Libya, you name a place, still waiting for justice.
I am over rape happening in broad daylight.
I am over a woman being gang raped and murdered on a bus in Delhi or gang raped and videoed in Steubenville, Ohio.
I am over one in three women in the U.S military getting raped by their so-called "comrades."
I am over the forces that deny women who have been raped the right to have an abortion.
I am over rape victims becoming re-raped when they try to prosecute their cases
I am over women still being silent about rape, because they are made to believe it's their fault or they did something to make it happen.
I am over violence against women not being a #1 international priority when one out of three women will be raped or beaten in her lifetime - the destruction and muting and undermining of women is the destruction of life itself.
No women, no future, duh.
I am over this rape culture where the privileged with political and physical and economic might, take what and who they want, when they want it, as much as they want, any time they want it.
I am over the endless resurrection of the careers of rapists and sexual exploiters - film directors, world leaders, corporate executives, movie stars, athletes - while the lives of the women they violated are permanently destroyed, often forcing them to live in social and emotional exile.
I am over the passivity of good men. Where the hell are you? You live with us, make love with us, father us, befriend us, brother us, get nurtured and mothered and eternally supported by us, so why aren't you standing with us? Why aren't you driven to the point of madness and action by the rape and humiliation of us?
I am over years and years of being over rape.
And thinking about rape every day of my life since I was 5 years old.
And getting sick from rape, and depressed from rape, and enraged by rape.
And reading my insanely crowded inbox of rape horror stories every hour of every single day.
I am over being polite about rape. It's been too long now, we have been too understanding.
We need to END RAPE in every school, park, radio, bus, TV station, household, office, factory, refugee camp, military base, back room, nightclub, alleyway. We need people to truly try and imagine - once and for all - what it feels like to have your body invaded, your mind splintered, your soul shattered. We need you to let our rage and our compassion connect us together so we can change the paradigm of global rape.
There are approximately one billion women on the planet who have been violated.
ONE BILLION WOMEN.
The time is now. One billion women are rising today to end rape.
Because we are over it.
I am reposting this because I am taking part in Eve Ensler's One Billion Rising movement this Thursday, February 14th, 2013. Women across the world will be dancing to honor those who have suffered or died as a result of violence or rape, or a combination of those. One Billion Women in this world have known one or both of those atrocities. We will not take it anymore.
Why dance?
"Dance is holy, sexual, and it's a way of being very powerful and a little dangerous without being violent."
Find out more about how you can join the movement on the website and find a Rising Event near you - Here. If you can't make it to a Rising event, honor it in your own way. But honor it. Honor them. Show them we will not stand for a rape culture anymore.
We are over it.
Strike. Dance. Rise.
ally
By Eve Ensler
Over It
I am over rape.
I am over rape culture, rape mentality, rape pages on Facebook.
I am over the thousands of people who signed those pages with their real names without shame
I am over people calling it freedom of speech and justifying it as a joke.
I am over people not understanding that rape is not a joke and I am over being told I don't have a sense of humor, and women don't have a sense of humor, when most women I know (and I know a lot) are really fucking funny. We just don't think that uninvited penises up our anus or our vagina is a laugh riot.
I am over how long it seems to take anyone to ever respond to rape.
I am over the hundreds of thousands of women in Congo still waiting for the rapes to end and the rapists to be held accountable.
I am over the thousands of women in Bosnia, Burma, Syria, Somalia, Pakistan, South Africa, Guatemala, Sierra Leone, Haiti, Afghanistan, Libya, you name a place, still waiting for justice.
I am over rape happening in broad daylight.
I am over a woman being gang raped and murdered on a bus in Delhi or gang raped and videoed in Steubenville, Ohio.
I am over one in three women in the U.S military getting raped by their so-called "comrades."
I am over the forces that deny women who have been raped the right to have an abortion.
I am over rape victims becoming re-raped when they try to prosecute their cases
I am over women still being silent about rape, because they are made to believe it's their fault or they did something to make it happen.
I am over violence against women not being a #1 international priority when one out of three women will be raped or beaten in her lifetime - the destruction and muting and undermining of women is the destruction of life itself.
No women, no future, duh.
I am over this rape culture where the privileged with political and physical and economic might, take what and who they want, when they want it, as much as they want, any time they want it.
I am over the endless resurrection of the careers of rapists and sexual exploiters - film directors, world leaders, corporate executives, movie stars, athletes - while the lives of the women they violated are permanently destroyed, often forcing them to live in social and emotional exile.
I am over the passivity of good men. Where the hell are you? You live with us, make love with us, father us, befriend us, brother us, get nurtured and mothered and eternally supported by us, so why aren't you standing with us? Why aren't you driven to the point of madness and action by the rape and humiliation of us?
I am over years and years of being over rape.
And thinking about rape every day of my life since I was 5 years old.
And getting sick from rape, and depressed from rape, and enraged by rape.
And reading my insanely crowded inbox of rape horror stories every hour of every single day.
I am over being polite about rape. It's been too long now, we have been too understanding.
We need to END RAPE in every school, park, radio, bus, TV station, household, office, factory, refugee camp, military base, back room, nightclub, alleyway. We need people to truly try and imagine - once and for all - what it feels like to have your body invaded, your mind splintered, your soul shattered. We need you to let our rage and our compassion connect us together so we can change the paradigm of global rape.
There are approximately one billion women on the planet who have been violated.
ONE BILLION WOMEN.
The time is now. One billion women are rising today to end rape.
Because we are over it.
I am reposting this because I am taking part in Eve Ensler's One Billion Rising movement this Thursday, February 14th, 2013. Women across the world will be dancing to honor those who have suffered or died as a result of violence or rape, or a combination of those. One Billion Women in this world have known one or both of those atrocities. We will not take it anymore.
Why dance?
"Dance is holy, sexual, and it's a way of being very powerful and a little dangerous without being violent."
Find out more about how you can join the movement on the website and find a Rising Event near you - Here. If you can't make it to a Rising event, honor it in your own way. But honor it. Honor them. Show them we will not stand for a rape culture anymore.
We are over it.
Strike. Dance. Rise.
ally
Saturday, February 9, 2013
the fire that burns against the cold.
I realize it isn't Valentine's Day yet. I'm the type of person who thinks we should celebrate love every single day, with general acts of decency and kindness, rather than saving all of that energy and blowing it all in one day. But I do appreciate Valentine's Day and figured you should get this kind of musing beforehand. Also, I'm stuck in my house due to the Wrath of Nemo, so I figured I should get this published now while I can't go anywhere.
I've been dumped hundreds of times. I've been told I'm not someone's type, I've been called fat, weird, dumb, bitchy, snobby, weird, awkward, crazy, ridiculous, stupid...you name it, someone's thrown it at me. I didn't have a successful, happy relationship until I was 26 years old.
The key to finding love
is fucking up the pattern on purpose
is skipping a stitch,
is leaving a tiny, tiny hole to let the cold in
I put up a pretty cool front of "I love every little thing about me with zero apology" but that was not always the case. When you want to be loved, you'll do stupid shit. Some girls make bad decisions with their sexual energy. I spent a lot of time making bad decisions with my heart. Going after the wrong people because I honestly thought that was all I deserved. I deserved shit because I thought I was shit. Sometimes I still do. It's hard to undo 25 years of self-abuse, okay? It won't happen overnight, or even for a few years. I just have to keep hoping one day it will dissipate.
My journey to self-acceptance and self-love didn't start until I was 24 and got dumped through a Facebook email the day after Valentine's Day. We hadn't been together for very long, only about 4 weeks. We weren't even officially exclusive or anything. But he had put me into the position that this was something that would course that trajectory.
It's not that this guy really knew who I was in that short amount of time. I mean, no way could this guy know that I participated in online LARP (google it) or that I was writing a series of novels that concerned creatures closely akin to but not necessarily vampires/werewolves or I had been fat or that I was now recovering from undiagnosed eating disorders or that my ideal evening involves cooking vegan food, sweatpants, and Netflix. Hell no.
I needed to be the everygirl - jean shorts, cute tight tank top, effortless hair that tumbles all the way down, a bit of makeup, and high heels. Oh, and don't wear your glasses, even though without them you can't really see when you drive.
When he emailed me that day, I couldn't actually be mad. The email was entirely too sweet to harbor any bad feelings. One line that stuck out to me said "You're a wonderful girl. I just don't think you're the girl for me."
I immediately decided to go off men for a little bit. Because completely swearing something off always works.
This is a pattern I've dealt with time and time again. I start liking a guy, they seem to return my feelings, and then they suddenly go off the grid. I've talked about my past relationships on here, but I don't really go into that much detail. Needless to say, there's not a lot of detail to be had. I treated myself like crap so I allowed other guys to treat me like that.
I realized I deserved more than what I was getting. I should just be myself, wholly and completely. I needed time to be okay with myself, by myself, and whenever an opportunity presented itself I should throw everything true and raw and real and beautiful and human about me into the universe and see what I get. So for a year and into the summer of 2011, I did just that. I had one or two dalliances, but one of them treated me like shit and the other one was just too similar to me that it negated any mystery or growth, so I got bored.
Also running through this is an intense feeling of inadequacy that still haunts me. Whenever something good occurs in my life my instant reaction is to assume A) I don't deserve it or B) run like hell in the other direction. For many many years I lived in a pushmi-pullyu of "I want to be loved but I'm scared of what that means."
So. Here are some things I've learned in my lifetime about love.
Be patient, dammit. You've got your entire freaking life here. Slow your roll. When you're 17 you're not going to find the forever-and-always love unless you are preternaturally blessed; I've met people like that, so I know they exist. I'm 27 years old and there is no way I'm getting married any time soon, for a myriad of reasons, yet people still feel like asking me about it all the damn time. Maybe you should calm the hell down and let me not panic about one more thing I feel like I should be doing as an adult.
The patience thing also extends itself to babies. I am in NO way ready to have babies. If you are, then go ahead and pop out some babies. My uterus is closed for the time being. I'm not saying that's forever. But at the moment, nooooope. I'm too selfish and got too much stuff going on in my life to have kids. I'm at least glad I have the self-awareness to acknowledge my total lack of parenting skill. I've already got some babies in my life that I love dearly and one of my favorite parts of that relationship is being able to give the babies back to their mommies when I'm done playing with them. (Also, if you're under the age of 21 and you want to have babies because the babies on Teen Mom are so cute, please don't. You're still a child yourself.)
Also, I am not going to lie - I still get grossed out by poopy diapers. That feeling may factor in to my lack of desire to have babies. For the first five months they are pooping machines.
You're going to learn what love is not. Love isn't someone galloping in on a horse and saving you from the dragons, or painting the sky in smoke signals telling someone how much you love them. Love is not someone victimizing the other, or 'educating' the other from a higher pedestal. A pedestal is the same as a cage.
Love is a text message. Love is little things throughout the day. Love is remembering favorite flowers/chocolate/movies. Love is a look. Love is allowing breathing room. Love is tolerating your girlfriend when she gets bronchitis and spends the holidays hacking up phlegm and trying not to sneeze directly ON you. Love is all of the ugly nights when you cry.
Love will break your heart. Love will bring you to your knees. But if something happens in love that ends a love, just know that it's preparing you for a greater understanding of yourself. That old song and dance of "just wait and love will come when you least expected" horseshit is true!
It's good if your partner shares some of your interests, but maybe not all of your interests. You can start to like things your partner likes, of course. But you're probably not going to completely adore EVERYTHING they like. And they're not going to like everything you like. But most of that stuff doesn't really matter anyway. Find common ground on the things that really matter. And if you suddenly are totally and entirely obsessed with something your partner does (and it's a recurring motif in every single relationship you're in) you might need to reexamine who YOU are. Really? You'd never skied a day in your life and now you're retweeting everything X-Games because your douchy boyfriend works at a lodge? Oh, I see what you did there. Know what your interests are and remain interested in them. Always retain your self-hood. The right person will love you for your independence.
Sometimes love hurts, and sometimes it's an accident. Communication, people. Talk about what's bothering you. It's very hard. Sometimes you want to think "I DON'T WANT TO TALK, I JUST WANT TO STARE AT MY PHONE BECAUSE THAT'S EASIER THAN NOT KNOWING WHAT WILL HAPPEN IF I'M HONEST. OOH INSTAGRAM UPDATE." Trust me. I do it more than I should, and every time I've actually spilled about what's going on with me it feels like a giant weight has been lifted off my shoulders.
Also, sometimes a joke can be taken in entirely the wrong context. Asking for an explanation can mean everything. I'm not as gullible as I used to be but I do take things very seriously. At times, that will mean I'll feel like the lowest of the low about something that actually didn't even happen. I know, I need to 'lighten up.' But when that happens, it's mostly due to those undercurrent feelings of fear about being abandoned rearing their ugly demonic heads. Usually a good talk helps.
This accidental stuff does not, however, extend itself to physical altercations. If your partner rolls his eyes at a story you're telling, it's probably not a huge deal. If he slaps you, then it's a huge, enormous, get the fuck out of there right now deal.
"The Game" is horseshit. I had a friend (key word there, "had") who insisted on playing every single game in the Rulebook. She was like Barney on How I Met Your Mother but without the suits. Also, her fail rate was a lot higher. A few of her rules?
1. Don't tell anyone you're sexually inexperienced. It'll scare guys off because they'll think you'll get too attached. (I'm not going to get into a discussion about my own sexual activities, but let's just say I treated my virginity like Cher Horowitz. "You know how picky I am about my shoes, and they only go on my feet!")
2. Don't call until 3 days later. If you call. Usually, you should wait for the guy to call you.
3. If at all possible, tell drunk guys at the bar who your father is. Because God forbid they're attracted to you on your own merits.
Yeah. I'm not friends with this person anymore.
My point with this is, you're going to make a ton of mistakes. A ton. You're going to fall for the wrong people, and they are going to shatter you. But you should, because if you never fail, you never have an opportunity for growth. You'll start figuring out exactly what you want and that list will become richer and more detailed the more you put yourself out there and get vulnerable. You're never going to find love until you are vulnerable. The cracks are where the light comes in.
And lastly...
Find someone who loves you simply, without apology, and accepts you wholly as you are. But first, you have to love yourself fully. I'm still trying to do that, but if I'm being honest, sometimes those demons are still enough to bring me to my knees. Rumi says "If you haven't met the Devil yet, look in the mirror."
Being yourself and confronting those demons can be scary. But the love of someone who accepts you exactly who you are? It's worth getting uncomfortable.
the darkness does not go away. the darkness becomes more bearable.
ally
I've been dumped hundreds of times. I've been told I'm not someone's type, I've been called fat, weird, dumb, bitchy, snobby, weird, awkward, crazy, ridiculous, stupid...you name it, someone's thrown it at me. I didn't have a successful, happy relationship until I was 26 years old.
The key to finding love
is fucking up the pattern on purpose
is skipping a stitch,
is leaving a tiny, tiny hole to let the cold in
I put up a pretty cool front of "I love every little thing about me with zero apology" but that was not always the case. When you want to be loved, you'll do stupid shit. Some girls make bad decisions with their sexual energy. I spent a lot of time making bad decisions with my heart. Going after the wrong people because I honestly thought that was all I deserved. I deserved shit because I thought I was shit. Sometimes I still do. It's hard to undo 25 years of self-abuse, okay? It won't happen overnight, or even for a few years. I just have to keep hoping one day it will dissipate.
My journey to self-acceptance and self-love didn't start until I was 24 and got dumped through a Facebook email the day after Valentine's Day. We hadn't been together for very long, only about 4 weeks. We weren't even officially exclusive or anything. But he had put me into the position that this was something that would course that trajectory.
It's not that this guy really knew who I was in that short amount of time. I mean, no way could this guy know that I participated in online LARP (google it) or that I was writing a series of novels that concerned creatures closely akin to but not necessarily vampires/werewolves or I had been fat or that I was now recovering from undiagnosed eating disorders or that my ideal evening involves cooking vegan food, sweatpants, and Netflix. Hell no.
I needed to be the everygirl - jean shorts, cute tight tank top, effortless hair that tumbles all the way down, a bit of makeup, and high heels. Oh, and don't wear your glasses, even though without them you can't really see when you drive.
When he emailed me that day, I couldn't actually be mad. The email was entirely too sweet to harbor any bad feelings. One line that stuck out to me said "You're a wonderful girl. I just don't think you're the girl for me."
I immediately decided to go off men for a little bit. Because completely swearing something off always works.
This is a pattern I've dealt with time and time again. I start liking a guy, they seem to return my feelings, and then they suddenly go off the grid. I've talked about my past relationships on here, but I don't really go into that much detail. Needless to say, there's not a lot of detail to be had. I treated myself like crap so I allowed other guys to treat me like that.
I realized I deserved more than what I was getting. I should just be myself, wholly and completely. I needed time to be okay with myself, by myself, and whenever an opportunity presented itself I should throw everything true and raw and real and beautiful and human about me into the universe and see what I get. So for a year and into the summer of 2011, I did just that. I had one or two dalliances, but one of them treated me like shit and the other one was just too similar to me that it negated any mystery or growth, so I got bored.
Also running through this is an intense feeling of inadequacy that still haunts me. Whenever something good occurs in my life my instant reaction is to assume A) I don't deserve it or B) run like hell in the other direction. For many many years I lived in a pushmi-pullyu of "I want to be loved but I'm scared of what that means."
So. Here are some things I've learned in my lifetime about love.
Be patient, dammit. You've got your entire freaking life here. Slow your roll. When you're 17 you're not going to find the forever-and-always love unless you are preternaturally blessed; I've met people like that, so I know they exist. I'm 27 years old and there is no way I'm getting married any time soon, for a myriad of reasons, yet people still feel like asking me about it all the damn time. Maybe you should calm the hell down and let me not panic about one more thing I feel like I should be doing as an adult.
The patience thing also extends itself to babies. I am in NO way ready to have babies. If you are, then go ahead and pop out some babies. My uterus is closed for the time being. I'm not saying that's forever. But at the moment, nooooope. I'm too selfish and got too much stuff going on in my life to have kids. I'm at least glad I have the self-awareness to acknowledge my total lack of parenting skill. I've already got some babies in my life that I love dearly and one of my favorite parts of that relationship is being able to give the babies back to their mommies when I'm done playing with them. (Also, if you're under the age of 21 and you want to have babies because the babies on Teen Mom are so cute, please don't. You're still a child yourself.)
Also, I am not going to lie - I still get grossed out by poopy diapers. That feeling may factor in to my lack of desire to have babies. For the first five months they are pooping machines.
You're going to learn what love is not. Love isn't someone galloping in on a horse and saving you from the dragons, or painting the sky in smoke signals telling someone how much you love them. Love is not someone victimizing the other, or 'educating' the other from a higher pedestal. A pedestal is the same as a cage.
Love is a text message. Love is little things throughout the day. Love is remembering favorite flowers/chocolate/movies. Love is a look. Love is allowing breathing room. Love is tolerating your girlfriend when she gets bronchitis and spends the holidays hacking up phlegm and trying not to sneeze directly ON you. Love is all of the ugly nights when you cry.
Love will break your heart. Love will bring you to your knees. But if something happens in love that ends a love, just know that it's preparing you for a greater understanding of yourself. That old song and dance of "just wait and love will come when you least expected" horseshit is true!
It's good if your partner shares some of your interests, but maybe not all of your interests. You can start to like things your partner likes, of course. But you're probably not going to completely adore EVERYTHING they like. And they're not going to like everything you like. But most of that stuff doesn't really matter anyway. Find common ground on the things that really matter. And if you suddenly are totally and entirely obsessed with something your partner does (and it's a recurring motif in every single relationship you're in) you might need to reexamine who YOU are. Really? You'd never skied a day in your life and now you're retweeting everything X-Games because your douchy boyfriend works at a lodge? Oh, I see what you did there. Know what your interests are and remain interested in them. Always retain your self-hood. The right person will love you for your independence.
Sometimes love hurts, and sometimes it's an accident. Communication, people. Talk about what's bothering you. It's very hard. Sometimes you want to think "I DON'T WANT TO TALK, I JUST WANT TO STARE AT MY PHONE BECAUSE THAT'S EASIER THAN NOT KNOWING WHAT WILL HAPPEN IF I'M HONEST. OOH INSTAGRAM UPDATE." Trust me. I do it more than I should, and every time I've actually spilled about what's going on with me it feels like a giant weight has been lifted off my shoulders.
Also, sometimes a joke can be taken in entirely the wrong context. Asking for an explanation can mean everything. I'm not as gullible as I used to be but I do take things very seriously. At times, that will mean I'll feel like the lowest of the low about something that actually didn't even happen. I know, I need to 'lighten up.' But when that happens, it's mostly due to those undercurrent feelings of fear about being abandoned rearing their ugly demonic heads. Usually a good talk helps.
This accidental stuff does not, however, extend itself to physical altercations. If your partner rolls his eyes at a story you're telling, it's probably not a huge deal. If he slaps you, then it's a huge, enormous, get the fuck out of there right now deal.
"The Game" is horseshit. I had a friend (key word there, "had") who insisted on playing every single game in the Rulebook. She was like Barney on How I Met Your Mother but without the suits. Also, her fail rate was a lot higher. A few of her rules?
1. Don't tell anyone you're sexually inexperienced. It'll scare guys off because they'll think you'll get too attached. (I'm not going to get into a discussion about my own sexual activities, but let's just say I treated my virginity like Cher Horowitz. "You know how picky I am about my shoes, and they only go on my feet!")
2. Don't call until 3 days later. If you call. Usually, you should wait for the guy to call you.
3. If at all possible, tell drunk guys at the bar who your father is. Because God forbid they're attracted to you on your own merits.
Yeah. I'm not friends with this person anymore.
My point with this is, you're going to make a ton of mistakes. A ton. You're going to fall for the wrong people, and they are going to shatter you. But you should, because if you never fail, you never have an opportunity for growth. You'll start figuring out exactly what you want and that list will become richer and more detailed the more you put yourself out there and get vulnerable. You're never going to find love until you are vulnerable. The cracks are where the light comes in.
And lastly...
Find someone who loves you simply, without apology, and accepts you wholly as you are. But first, you have to love yourself fully. I'm still trying to do that, but if I'm being honest, sometimes those demons are still enough to bring me to my knees. Rumi says "If you haven't met the Devil yet, look in the mirror."
Being yourself and confronting those demons can be scary. But the love of someone who accepts you exactly who you are? It's worth getting uncomfortable.
“When we hold each other, in the darkness, it doesn't make the darkness go away. The bad things are still out there. The nightmares still walking. When we hold each other we feel not safe, but better. "It's all right" we whisper, "I'm here, I love you."...For just a moment or two the darkness doesn't seem so bad."
- neil gaimanthe darkness does not go away. the darkness becomes more bearable.
ally
Sunday, January 27, 2013
A Terrible Beauty Is Born.
A few weeks ago, I walked into the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences building (or CLAS, or now the Philip E. Austin Building) up on UConn, and handed in my last of two seminar papers I had due for the week. I then set up my final paper due dates with my students; they'll be sending them to me by the end of the day. I slipped the paper, a 21 page meditation on child post-war Holocaust testimonies, into my teacher's mailbox, and walked out the door. It took me all of fifteen minutes, twenty if you count the last-minute edits to my bibliography I did before printing it out. I got in my car and started crying.
It wasn't that sort of crying you know is coming and you need to get somewhere private, quickly, so you can just blubber in secrecy. It was the unexpected, tears-ripped-from-their-ducts weeping. My body gave out. I drove home, still crying, and stared at Mickey's Twice Upon a Christmas. I couldn't move. Couldn't think. My mom asked me what I wanted for dinner and I just shook my head, mumbling "Too hard."
I spent Christmas and New Year's deliberately not looking at anything academic, even though I had an MA exam to study for. This was twofold - I wanted an actual vacation over the holidays and spend time with my loved ones, and a few days before Christmas I came down with a horrible chest cold that landed me in bed nearly all Boxing Day.
After the New Year I shut myself up in the library with friends also taking the big test. There was more than one occasion I found myself standing in the shower until it ran cold, sobbing hysterically, thinking I couldn't give any more of my brain to this task. Part of that panic and tension kind of thrills me in a sick way;I had such a good time sitting in those little rooms, reading and analyzing poetry and theoretical essays with my friends, while simultaneously spilling our guts out to the soundtrack of Mumford & Sons. I am an insufferable geek. I know this.
January 18th rolled around, and I spent nearly the entire day in a computer classroom completing the MA comprehensive exam with my fellow graduate candidates. The exam itself is 6 hours but I got to my school at 8:30 and didn't leave until 5. By the end, I was proofreading my responses to make sure I wasn't just making up words. My brain felt like scrambled eggs.
I didn't cry. I walked out of the examination room and fist pumped so hard I spilled coffee all over my shirt, and then went straight home and watched bad movies on Netflix instant while eating a giant bowl of polenta and veggies.
I started this journey not even sure if I would even get back into graduate school. I got rejected the first time out, which was absolutely the right decision for UConn to make. I wasn't ready in any shape or form to be a graduate student. I hadn't really started expressing myself in big, loud, capital letters, which in English graduate school is antithetical to the expectation. I wasn't sure about my brain. I didn't believe people when they said I was smart (You would not believe the vast amounts of things I am entirely NOT intelligent about. Like math. Or science. Or our legal system. To me, a tort is a dessert.). Zero self esteem about anything. New York had thrown me for a huge loop and I was not prepared for how it had damaged my confidence.
So when I got the rejection letter on the first go-round in March 2010 - my God, how things can change in even 3 years - I was devastated. It was the icing on the shit cake. I had failed in a lot of different things in the span of about 8 months - failed in NYC, failed health, failed relationship, fail fail FAILWHALE.
A few people in my life suggested that I 'pull some strings' to bribe my way into the program. That was never even remotely an option. I've had to question a lot of opportunities thrown my way - getting onto my middle school basketball team, getting into my competitive single-sex high school, getting into UConn, etc. - being a result of my last name. This was my brain, my life, my rules, my responsibility. No way would I be running to Daddy for this.
I've doubted a lot of things in my life - my body, my chances with boys, my ability to run a mile in elementary school Fitness Day without puking Push Pops all over the grass - but I will never doubt my integrity.
I formed a plan.
I asked the department of English if there was any way I could make up the credits they said I lacked. They turned me on to the idea of a year of 'non-degree study', in which I would take undergrad and graduate courses to accumulate the credits. In doing so I would also be able to attain credit matriculation-which is why now, I'm actually finishing a semester early from my fellow MA candidates who entered the program at the same time I officially did. I had already been working for an entire year longer.
So I threw myself headlong into it. I decided I would get all of the credits done in one academic year, meaning I would need to take two undergraduate and two graduate courses each semester. This was...not recommended by the people at UConn, to put it mildly. I think they were worried I'd kill myself with all the work. I ended up having a blast. I made a ton of friends in the graduate department so I knew I wouldn't be lonely in the coming years if I got into the program, and I also tried to become friends with my professors so they'd recognize my name on the applications. I sat in a classroom on my first day, listening to my professor talk about children's literature, and I realized - this is where I'm supposed to be. Everything that is happening in my life right now is for the express purposes of making me a stronger person. I truly do believe that everything, and I mean everything, happens for a specific reason.
I got accepted into the graduate program in March 2011, on my Dad's birthday no less. I was standing in the kitchen after a trip to the gym and picked up my cell phone to check some emails before heading upstairs to shower. I saw the email subject line "Offer Letter", and it took about ten seconds for me to figure out that it was from UConn, and it meant I had gotten the gig. When it clicked, I started screaming like I was being assaulted and danced around the room with my mom. I shook like a leaf for the entire day.
I entered the program in August of 2011 and after a few seminar sessions wherein I'd stare at the rest of my classmates and think "How the hell did I end up in this group of totally smart and awesome and amazing people, clearly they misread my name on the syllabus" I started to realize that maybe I belonged in this program. And then I started teaching. That is when everything truly came together. Despite being a shaky sweaty cartoon the first day I taught a class I realized that all of my training for stage and film work was really just preparing me to stand in front of a classroom and not die. It's my home now, and where I truly feel like myself.
Which is why I applied - and got hired - to be an adjunct professor at UConn in the Freshman English department. I am teaching two sections of Writing For Children's Literature, nearly three years after sitting in a classroom, nervous and lost, and realizing I was destined to teach that very subject.
Will I go on for my PhD? Probably. Not for a little while, though...I want to be out in the working world and put some time into teaching before going back for my doctorate.
It's been the hardest journey of my entire life. Seriously...losing 70 pounds was a freaking cakewalk compared to this. I had severe mood swings - studying the Holocaust for the past four months turned me into a zombie - and drank too much coffee, and lost way too much sleep, and worried way too much about what everybody thought about me for the first couple of months. Then something shifted...and the person who entered this journey in August 2010 is not the same as the one writing this to you.
So many things happened in the past two and a half years. I became an aunt, for one. I fell in love, for another. I learned more about who I am and what I want. I learned how to take care of myself when life threatens to overwhelm. I learned how to speak my opinion decisively and respectfully. I learned to look at myself in a a critical eye and made major, major changes in all aspects of my life. I started living on my own. I learned to go for my dreams but to go for them smartly. I started working for a secure future but living for the present.
A life that was very, very small and scary and lonely has become very, very, very big, and open-ended, and full of possibilities.
It's still a little scary, and sometimes I do get overwhelmed.
But I would rather be this version of me, a me that is entirely me and not a construct of other disparate personalities trying to 'fit in'. Normal is overrated. And that's what the last 3 years have taught me. To be myself, and to be convinced of my passions.
Everything has changed, and I cannot wait to see what else happens in this huge life.
A Terrible Beauty Is Born. - wb yeats
ally
PS - I apologize for the lack of "Reel Fridays". I think it might become a once-a-month thing, rather than 'every single week'. I overestimated the time I'd have available to make those vids! But I'm going to publish a new post in here every week regardless of format.
It wasn't that sort of crying you know is coming and you need to get somewhere private, quickly, so you can just blubber in secrecy. It was the unexpected, tears-ripped-from-their-ducts weeping. My body gave out. I drove home, still crying, and stared at Mickey's Twice Upon a Christmas. I couldn't move. Couldn't think. My mom asked me what I wanted for dinner and I just shook my head, mumbling "Too hard."
I spent Christmas and New Year's deliberately not looking at anything academic, even though I had an MA exam to study for. This was twofold - I wanted an actual vacation over the holidays and spend time with my loved ones, and a few days before Christmas I came down with a horrible chest cold that landed me in bed nearly all Boxing Day.
After the New Year I shut myself up in the library with friends also taking the big test. There was more than one occasion I found myself standing in the shower until it ran cold, sobbing hysterically, thinking I couldn't give any more of my brain to this task. Part of that panic and tension kind of thrills me in a sick way;I had such a good time sitting in those little rooms, reading and analyzing poetry and theoretical essays with my friends, while simultaneously spilling our guts out to the soundtrack of Mumford & Sons. I am an insufferable geek. I know this.
January 18th rolled around, and I spent nearly the entire day in a computer classroom completing the MA comprehensive exam with my fellow graduate candidates. The exam itself is 6 hours but I got to my school at 8:30 and didn't leave until 5. By the end, I was proofreading my responses to make sure I wasn't just making up words. My brain felt like scrambled eggs.
I didn't cry. I walked out of the examination room and fist pumped so hard I spilled coffee all over my shirt, and then went straight home and watched bad movies on Netflix instant while eating a giant bowl of polenta and veggies.
I started this journey not even sure if I would even get back into graduate school. I got rejected the first time out, which was absolutely the right decision for UConn to make. I wasn't ready in any shape or form to be a graduate student. I hadn't really started expressing myself in big, loud, capital letters, which in English graduate school is antithetical to the expectation. I wasn't sure about my brain. I didn't believe people when they said I was smart (You would not believe the vast amounts of things I am entirely NOT intelligent about. Like math. Or science. Or our legal system. To me, a tort is a dessert.). Zero self esteem about anything. New York had thrown me for a huge loop and I was not prepared for how it had damaged my confidence.
So when I got the rejection letter on the first go-round in March 2010 - my God, how things can change in even 3 years - I was devastated. It was the icing on the shit cake. I had failed in a lot of different things in the span of about 8 months - failed in NYC, failed health, failed relationship, fail fail FAILWHALE.
A few people in my life suggested that I 'pull some strings' to bribe my way into the program. That was never even remotely an option. I've had to question a lot of opportunities thrown my way - getting onto my middle school basketball team, getting into my competitive single-sex high school, getting into UConn, etc. - being a result of my last name. This was my brain, my life, my rules, my responsibility. No way would I be running to Daddy for this.
I've doubted a lot of things in my life - my body, my chances with boys, my ability to run a mile in elementary school Fitness Day without puking Push Pops all over the grass - but I will never doubt my integrity.
I formed a plan.
I asked the department of English if there was any way I could make up the credits they said I lacked. They turned me on to the idea of a year of 'non-degree study', in which I would take undergrad and graduate courses to accumulate the credits. In doing so I would also be able to attain credit matriculation-which is why now, I'm actually finishing a semester early from my fellow MA candidates who entered the program at the same time I officially did. I had already been working for an entire year longer.
So I threw myself headlong into it. I decided I would get all of the credits done in one academic year, meaning I would need to take two undergraduate and two graduate courses each semester. This was...not recommended by the people at UConn, to put it mildly. I think they were worried I'd kill myself with all the work. I ended up having a blast. I made a ton of friends in the graduate department so I knew I wouldn't be lonely in the coming years if I got into the program, and I also tried to become friends with my professors so they'd recognize my name on the applications. I sat in a classroom on my first day, listening to my professor talk about children's literature, and I realized - this is where I'm supposed to be. Everything that is happening in my life right now is for the express purposes of making me a stronger person. I truly do believe that everything, and I mean everything, happens for a specific reason.
I got accepted into the graduate program in March 2011, on my Dad's birthday no less. I was standing in the kitchen after a trip to the gym and picked up my cell phone to check some emails before heading upstairs to shower. I saw the email subject line "Offer Letter", and it took about ten seconds for me to figure out that it was from UConn, and it meant I had gotten the gig. When it clicked, I started screaming like I was being assaulted and danced around the room with my mom. I shook like a leaf for the entire day.
I entered the program in August of 2011 and after a few seminar sessions wherein I'd stare at the rest of my classmates and think "How the hell did I end up in this group of totally smart and awesome and amazing people, clearly they misread my name on the syllabus" I started to realize that maybe I belonged in this program. And then I started teaching. That is when everything truly came together. Despite being a shaky sweaty cartoon the first day I taught a class I realized that all of my training for stage and film work was really just preparing me to stand in front of a classroom and not die. It's my home now, and where I truly feel like myself.
Which is why I applied - and got hired - to be an adjunct professor at UConn in the Freshman English department. I am teaching two sections of Writing For Children's Literature, nearly three years after sitting in a classroom, nervous and lost, and realizing I was destined to teach that very subject.
Will I go on for my PhD? Probably. Not for a little while, though...I want to be out in the working world and put some time into teaching before going back for my doctorate.
It's been the hardest journey of my entire life. Seriously...losing 70 pounds was a freaking cakewalk compared to this. I had severe mood swings - studying the Holocaust for the past four months turned me into a zombie - and drank too much coffee, and lost way too much sleep, and worried way too much about what everybody thought about me for the first couple of months. Then something shifted...and the person who entered this journey in August 2010 is not the same as the one writing this to you.
So many things happened in the past two and a half years. I became an aunt, for one. I fell in love, for another. I learned more about who I am and what I want. I learned how to take care of myself when life threatens to overwhelm. I learned how to speak my opinion decisively and respectfully. I learned to look at myself in a a critical eye and made major, major changes in all aspects of my life. I started living on my own. I learned to go for my dreams but to go for them smartly. I started working for a secure future but living for the present.
A life that was very, very small and scary and lonely has become very, very, very big, and open-ended, and full of possibilities.
It's still a little scary, and sometimes I do get overwhelmed.
But I would rather be this version of me, a me that is entirely me and not a construct of other disparate personalities trying to 'fit in'. Normal is overrated. And that's what the last 3 years have taught me. To be myself, and to be convinced of my passions.
Everything has changed, and I cannot wait to see what else happens in this huge life.
A Terrible Beauty Is Born. - wb yeats
ally
PS - I apologize for the lack of "Reel Fridays". I think it might become a once-a-month thing, rather than 'every single week'. I overestimated the time I'd have available to make those vids! But I'm going to publish a new post in here every week regardless of format.
Friday, January 11, 2013
"Reel" Friday: Oscar Nominations, Django Unchained!
Okay. I know a lot of you wanted me to talk about food/fitness/diet stuff, but I am a sad, sad little geek. When I found out the Oscar nominations were coming out yesterday I wanted to live-record some of my reactions to Best Picture and Best Actor/Actress (I meant to record more reactions but the damn Photobooth didn't record! You guys missed a stellar deconstruction of how pumped I am that Adele will be performing at the Academy Awards as well as Hugh Jackman and Seth McFarlane. UGH.)
So then I got all amped up about movies, and decided to go see Django Unchained after lunch. I am a Quentin Tarantino junkie, so I always have to see his movies the instant they come out. Oh, man. It was so freaking good. I wanted to stand up and applaud at the end. So I came home to vlogged my review...forgetting that I had given myself bangs after I had taped my reactions to the Oscars, so the hair would totally not match what I had taped earlier. C'est la vie.
Oscar Nominees from Alysa on Vimeo.
Also, thanks MoShark on Twitter for naming my vlog day "Reel" Friday! :)
ally
PS: The fitness/diet video did get made, I'll probably put it on my other blog since that one is more of a food/fitness blog. As for those of you who wanted me to talk about love/relationships, I'll be writing a blog about that later!
So then I got all amped up about movies, and decided to go see Django Unchained after lunch. I am a Quentin Tarantino junkie, so I always have to see his movies the instant they come out. Oh, man. It was so freaking good. I wanted to stand up and applaud at the end. So I came home to vlogged my review...forgetting that I had given myself bangs after I had taped my reactions to the Oscars, so the hair would totally not match what I had taped earlier. C'est la vie.
Oscar Nominees from Alysa on Vimeo.
Also, thanks MoShark on Twitter for naming my vlog day "Reel" Friday! :)
ally
PS: The fitness/diet video did get made, I'll probably put it on my other blog since that one is more of a food/fitness blog. As for those of you who wanted me to talk about love/relationships, I'll be writing a blog about that later!
Saturday, January 5, 2013
Video Friday: Les Miserables
Yep. You saw that right. Now to be a weekly thing!
Les Miserables: The Video Review! from Alysa on Vimeo.
This was supposed to go up last night but I seriously underestimated the royal pain in the ass editing/uploading a video is. Don't get me wrong, editing a video on iMovie is the easiest thing ever but it's just hella time-consuming. Also, I meant to use YouTube but it was being completely uncooperative so I went to Vimeo. Vimeo's not just for wedding highlight reels, guys.
Enjoy, and if this is the most annoying thing ever please tell me so I don't ever do it again? Also, tell me what you want me to look at for next week! I kind of want to talk about the remake of Sam Raimi's Evil Dead, which just had a new trailer drop yesterday. You can watch it here but just to warn you, the trailer is a Redband (aka TOTALLY NSFW) so I wouldn't recommend watching it if you're about to go camping. Or really like trees. Or are about to eat tomato soup. Just trust me on that one...
ally
Les Miserables: The Video Review! from Alysa on Vimeo.
This was supposed to go up last night but I seriously underestimated the royal pain in the ass editing/uploading a video is. Don't get me wrong, editing a video on iMovie is the easiest thing ever but it's just hella time-consuming. Also, I meant to use YouTube but it was being completely uncooperative so I went to Vimeo. Vimeo's not just for wedding highlight reels, guys.
Enjoy, and if this is the most annoying thing ever please tell me so I don't ever do it again? Also, tell me what you want me to look at for next week! I kind of want to talk about the remake of Sam Raimi's Evil Dead, which just had a new trailer drop yesterday. You can watch it here but just to warn you, the trailer is a Redband (aka TOTALLY NSFW) so I wouldn't recommend watching it if you're about to go camping. Or really like trees. Or are about to eat tomato soup. Just trust me on that one...
ally
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
It's about old friends.
Harry: What does this song mean? My
whole life, I don't know what this song means. I mean, 'Should old
acquaintance be forgot'? Does that mean that we should forget old
acquaintances, or does it mean if we happened to forget them, we should
remember them, which is not possible because we already forgot?
Sally: Well, maybe it just means that we should remember that we forgot them or something. Anyway, it's about old friends.
- When Harry Met Sally
I rang in 2013 in my pajamas, at a pajama party - best idea ever, i didn't have to go shopping for a one-time-only-wear dress! - with a giant glass of wine, and spent the first day of the year in my pajamas watching The Dark Knight Rises and then practicing some hot yoga. During my practice I thought about the previous year.
2012 was one of those years you look back on and think in stunned contemplation "Holy crap. All of that happened this year?" No wonder, then, that I have spent my holidays in a state of exhaustion. I ended up contracting a horrendous cold the day before Christmas and spent Boxing Day in bed, wrapped up tight in blankets, trying not to cry with how absolutely disgusting I felt. Today is the first day since December 22nd that I haven't had a chest cough. But hey, new year, new start, right?
So, without further adieu, I would like to present to you a simple list of Stuff I Did In 2012.
1. I learned what love is. It's about digging your heels in and doing the work. It's also about just being with the right person, someone who accepts you for exactly who you are. I technically found that in 2011, but 2012 was the year in which I fell and fell HARD. It's the first time I am presenting myself in a relationship as myself, wholly and completely, and he says 'yes' to all of it. It's pretty amazing. I hope all of you find a love like that. I can't wait to see what 2013 holds for us and the rest of the years we have.
2. Met incredible people. Too many to list here. All of them are precious, smart, hilarious, kind of insane, articulate, cool, and just decent people to be around. Many of these friends I met due to #1 up there.
3. Um, went to the Olympics?! Also, toured a soccer stadium and went to Liverpool and went to Ireland and drank pear cider and ate all of the falafel in London and just oh my god can I go back to Europe?
4. Went to Maryland for a football game with a ton of my friends, stayed in a skeezy hotel, watched UConn beat the shit out of Maryland (BYE RANDY) and we got sort of famous because of our awesome bus. ShowUsYourTDs! And of course I ate Maryland crab cakes.
5. Read the first three books and started the fourth book in George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire and got REALLY into Game of Thrones on HBO. My friends hold watch parties every single week, with wine and book/show discussion. It's awesome.
6. Went to Maine and saw the Black Keys/Arctic Monkeys in concert
7. Ran an obstacle 5k with one of my friends and probably registering for it again this year. Yeah Warrior Dash New England!
8. Realized I didn't want to study Medieval Studies after all; I wanted to study Children's Literature and the Graphic Novel. Changing my focus was the best thing I've ever done for my career.
9. Went to a Grad Prom
10. Chopped off all of my hair for a children's charity. It's now at a longish bob length, which I really like, and all of that hair is now making a young girl with cancer look flaw free. Yay!
11. Went from just running/yoga to running/yoga/crosstraining/weights/Jillian Michaels "Ripped" workouts. My shirts don't fit anymore. My biceps are too cool for them.
12. Started watching shows I should have watched a while ago. Arrested Development is hysterical.
13. Performed in The Vagina Monologues, which pretty much changed my life.
14. Spent the entire summer by the water in Niantic.
15. Completely gave up gluten and dairy for the sake of my tummy.
16. Got accepted into a publication. Yep. February 1st I'll be handing in an article about The Hunger Games to a proposed anthology for publication next year. I'll be a published writer, and not just on a Blogger engine!
For 2013, I've got some goals. Not so much 'resolutions' but 'goals' to help me throughout the year.
High Pass on the MA exam. Teach in a way that is firm, constructive, educational, and fun. Write and publish articles I'm proud of. Confer and commence my degree from UConn. Start looking at PhD programs. Attend the Children's Literature Conference in Biloxi, MI, in June. Run a 1/2 Marathon (hopefully the West Haven Savin Rock 1/2 in March). Cook something from my cookbooks or my Pinterest boards at least once a week because it's getting kind of pathetic. Get more pedicures to wind down. Relax. Read at least 3 Presidential biographies/autobiographies. Do some form of yoga every single day. Eat more whole foods and vegetables and not as much sugar and empty carbs. Drink only once MAYBE twice a week. Work on my relationships with my family, friends, boyfriend, and colleagues, so the lines of communication are always open and everyone operates on a level of transparency, as well as integrity. See my friends more often. Make plans. Keep them. Laugh more. Dance more. Sing more.
In 2013 I plan to do more by stressing less. I can't wait to see what happens.
ally
Sally: Well, maybe it just means that we should remember that we forgot them or something. Anyway, it's about old friends.
- When Harry Met Sally
I rang in 2013 in my pajamas, at a pajama party - best idea ever, i didn't have to go shopping for a one-time-only-wear dress! - with a giant glass of wine, and spent the first day of the year in my pajamas watching The Dark Knight Rises and then practicing some hot yoga. During my practice I thought about the previous year.
2012 was one of those years you look back on and think in stunned contemplation "Holy crap. All of that happened this year?" No wonder, then, that I have spent my holidays in a state of exhaustion. I ended up contracting a horrendous cold the day before Christmas and spent Boxing Day in bed, wrapped up tight in blankets, trying not to cry with how absolutely disgusting I felt. Today is the first day since December 22nd that I haven't had a chest cough. But hey, new year, new start, right?
So, without further adieu, I would like to present to you a simple list of Stuff I Did In 2012.
1. I learned what love is. It's about digging your heels in and doing the work. It's also about just being with the right person, someone who accepts you for exactly who you are. I technically found that in 2011, but 2012 was the year in which I fell and fell HARD. It's the first time I am presenting myself in a relationship as myself, wholly and completely, and he says 'yes' to all of it. It's pretty amazing. I hope all of you find a love like that. I can't wait to see what 2013 holds for us and the rest of the years we have.
2. Met incredible people. Too many to list here. All of them are precious, smart, hilarious, kind of insane, articulate, cool, and just decent people to be around. Many of these friends I met due to #1 up there.
3. Um, went to the Olympics?! Also, toured a soccer stadium and went to Liverpool and went to Ireland and drank pear cider and ate all of the falafel in London and just oh my god can I go back to Europe?
4. Went to Maryland for a football game with a ton of my friends, stayed in a skeezy hotel, watched UConn beat the shit out of Maryland (BYE RANDY) and we got sort of famous because of our awesome bus. ShowUsYourTDs! And of course I ate Maryland crab cakes.
5. Read the first three books and started the fourth book in George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire and got REALLY into Game of Thrones on HBO. My friends hold watch parties every single week, with wine and book/show discussion. It's awesome.
6. Went to Maine and saw the Black Keys/Arctic Monkeys in concert
7. Ran an obstacle 5k with one of my friends and probably registering for it again this year. Yeah Warrior Dash New England!
8. Realized I didn't want to study Medieval Studies after all; I wanted to study Children's Literature and the Graphic Novel. Changing my focus was the best thing I've ever done for my career.
9. Went to a Grad Prom
10. Chopped off all of my hair for a children's charity. It's now at a longish bob length, which I really like, and all of that hair is now making a young girl with cancer look flaw free. Yay!
11. Went from just running/yoga to running/yoga/crosstraining/weights/Jillian Michaels "Ripped" workouts. My shirts don't fit anymore. My biceps are too cool for them.
12. Started watching shows I should have watched a while ago. Arrested Development is hysterical.
13. Performed in The Vagina Monologues, which pretty much changed my life.
14. Spent the entire summer by the water in Niantic.
15. Completely gave up gluten and dairy for the sake of my tummy.
16. Got accepted into a publication. Yep. February 1st I'll be handing in an article about The Hunger Games to a proposed anthology for publication next year. I'll be a published writer, and not just on a Blogger engine!
For 2013, I've got some goals. Not so much 'resolutions' but 'goals' to help me throughout the year.
High Pass on the MA exam. Teach in a way that is firm, constructive, educational, and fun. Write and publish articles I'm proud of. Confer and commence my degree from UConn. Start looking at PhD programs. Attend the Children's Literature Conference in Biloxi, MI, in June. Run a 1/2 Marathon (hopefully the West Haven Savin Rock 1/2 in March). Cook something from my cookbooks or my Pinterest boards at least once a week because it's getting kind of pathetic. Get more pedicures to wind down. Relax. Read at least 3 Presidential biographies/autobiographies. Do some form of yoga every single day. Eat more whole foods and vegetables and not as much sugar and empty carbs. Drink only once MAYBE twice a week. Work on my relationships with my family, friends, boyfriend, and colleagues, so the lines of communication are always open and everyone operates on a level of transparency, as well as integrity. See my friends more often. Make plans. Keep them. Laugh more. Dance more. Sing more.
In 2013 I plan to do more by stressing less. I can't wait to see what happens.
ally
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