Category Archives: Blog Post

Lately it feels like time is moving by fast and slow at the same time…it’s like I spend so much time trying to grow up and figure things out that I can’t see the pieces falling together right in front of me. Makes me wonder how much control you actually have over the course your life takes. Sometimes, the choices we make have already been determined and we merely following the arrows on a map.

It’s so weird to not be in a relationship after being part of an “us” for so many years. But not necessarily a bad kind of weird, it’s just different and new. I’ve been spending a lot of time at the beach or the pool and it made me realize how much I’ve missed being in the water. The ocean used to be one of my favorite places in the world, ever since I was a little girl you’d always find me  barefoot in the sand with my slightly burned skin and wild golden curls. I can’t seem to remember why I stopped going though. Somewhere along the way I guess I got so caught up with life and all the bullshit that I forgot to stop and appreciate the little things.

Doesn’t everyone though? I think that maybe we associate being an “adult” with letting go of the simple things that gave us so much joy. Things like the sounds of crashing waves and the scent of coconuts and suntan oil. The way the rain feels on your skin, especially when it catches you by surprise. Or the fun in just being silly and laughing at nothing.

Maybe I’ve been enlightened…or maybe I’ve been spending too much time with my teenaged sisters. Either way, I feel so mellowed out and excited and ready to take on the world! But this time, I’m a little bit wiser and have a much longer fuse 😉

As I slowly put the pieces of my life back together after the crazy roller coaster I seem to have been on for the past year or so, I can’t help but let my thoughts drift back. Back to us. To find myself thinking about this is pretty shocking and to actually write about it is like slapping myself in the face, but I can’t help it. Everything in my life is so drastically different than it was last May and I’m still trying to figure out why. How did all this happen? I mean, really?

It kind of feels like I’m trying to put together a puzzle, without all the pieces, when I don’t even know what the picture should look like. Does that sound crazy? Maybe I should avoid blogging when I’m all emotional…sleep might be better option right now. Hmm.

Sometimes plans fall through. Sometimes our lives don’t turn out exactly how we wanted them to. And sometimes the best thing you can do is sit back and enjoy the ride. For some people, taking life one day at a time and relinquishing control is a lot harder than it seems. I think that one of life’s greatest lessons is being able to accept that sometimes, there are greater powers at work. Powers that know exactly why things happen and all we can do is have a little faith that all will turn out well in the end. there’s another difficult concept, faith. 

Having faith is something you cannot see or understand is one of the hardest things in the world. For those of us who grew up in religious families, attending Sunday Mass with confession and all, faith is kind of a given. It’s engraved into our psyches since birth, this unyielding feeling that you just have to believe. For others, it can be harder to come by. But for all of us, there’s always that one moment where your faith is tested. Where, for a split second, you wonder if there’s a purpose to all this craziness after all. Some of us waver in our beliefs, while others hope against all odds that their efforts are not in vain. 

I happen to be one of those hopefuls. Blame it on my Catholic upbringing or my ability to always bounce back or whatever you want. At the end of the day, I’ve learned to allow things to just happen. To let someone else take the wheel and see where I end up.

As a rule, I try not to do things that I’ll be likely to regret later. A task that is more difficult than others at times given my impulsive nature and short temper…not the best qualities I know. But still, I try to reason with myself and make the best possible decisions and sometimes I let myself be influenced by the wrong things. Society puts so much pressure on us to fit in and do the “right thing.” I have to ask myself, right for whom? Right for society or right for yourself? That line gets a little blurred when a decision you make affects more than just you. When your choices are a direct reflection on your family. God forbid you brought shame on those closest to you by making the “wrong” choice. Obviously, it can be tough to avoid regrets.

Although I’m no where near perfect, looking back I don’t have that many regrets. I mean I have a few big ones, but they’re more about other people than myself. More about a situation and how I handled it, but those are regrets I consider learning experiences. Then there’s you. A memory that refuses to fade away, even after all these years. The connection I felt with you was something so Earth shattering, something I have never even come close to feeling with anyone else. I wanted to much to keep you. To give myself to you in every way, just to be near you. What’s crazy to me even now is that I barely knew you, and still I felt like you belonged in my life. Sometimes I still feel it. 

I walked away, went against my heart and did the “right” thing. I was in a relationship that had endured some very serious turmoil and the logical thing was to see it through, not leave him because we had a 15 minute connection. A choice I still regret to this day. I wish I could say that I only regret it now because that relationship ended, that these thoughts are only in my head now because I’m looking back but that’s not true. I know it would look better to the world if that was the case, it would be understandable even, but to say that would be to lie and I’m done lying. 

The truth is I’ve thought about you more often than I should have over the past few years. I’ve spent countless hours looking for you online, searching page after page after page for as long as I can remember. Clearing the history on my computer just to cover my tracks. I fantasize about running into you again, someday, somewhere. I pray the universe will bring us together again, I even make promises. I promise not to make the same mistake twice. 

I know this all sounds crazy, believe me I’m aware. But I can’t help it anymore. I don’t feel connected to many people and I can’t ignore the immense pull I felt towards you. A pull I know you felt too. Putting this, these feelings out there is probably a really bad idea…but I have to get this off my chest. I’ve never told anyone about these feelings. Maybe I didn’t want to admit it to myself because then I’d have to face my feelings for him. Hmm. I’m thinking I’m gonna skip that part for now. 

Or maybe I’m making this into something more than it was, nothing more than a lasting impression.

People always say a Jack of all Trades is a Master of none, but why is that so bad? I mean is perfection really so important? I don’t think it is, to me its all the imperfections we have that make us who we are. They make each of us special in our own way. 

When I was a kid, I had a different dream every few months or so. A new goal for my life. I wanted to be a Vet. I wanted to be on Broadway. I even wanted to be a Marine Biologist and live on some secluded island somewhere, studying the marine life. I think somewhere along the way to adulthood, we lose that childish habit. Somewhere along the way, we forget to dream big. We forget the point of all this…joy. If you’re not happy with what you do or where your life is, nothing else matters. 

Happiness is the only reason to do anything. Now don’t get me wrong, making yourself happy and being selfish are very different things that vary from person to person. Some people find happiness in helping others. Other people spend their entire lives trying to figure out how to make themselves happy and that’s okay too. Each of us has a path to follow and sometimes it’s a road we need to take alone. Sometimes going it alone is the only point, even if we don’t get it right the first time. How to pick up the pieces when it all falls apart, that’s how you find out what kind of person you really are. 

I’ve had to pick up the pieces in my life a few too many times. So who I am? I’m not so sure anymore. I used to be a fighter. A survivor. No matter how bad things got, I always rose above. I always sucked it up, wiped the tears from my eyes and kept going. Not that I’ve had it bad, I’ve just had to deal with a lot of loss in 23 short years. More than most people experience in their whole lives. But I never let anything beat me, I always believed that it all happened for a reason and that it was ultimately for the best. But somewhere in the midst of all my fighting, I lost my purpose. I lost why I was fighting and what I was fighting for exactly. I can’t really pin point when or why it happened or why I’ve suddenly noticed. I just woke up one day and saw everything in a different light and I realized that I don’t want to let me life pass me by. 

I know that to the world, I’m still just another kid who hasn’t found her place yet. It’s just so weird to me that I had more conviction in me when I was 17 years old than I do now. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? I mean, I get that things are always clearer when you’re looking back…nothing like the uncertainty of looking to the future. But I can’t help but wonder if I’ve been so jaded these past few years that I lost the girl I used to be. So soon? I figured the world would change me once I had to be an adult in it, but I kind of thought I had more time to figure that out. 

Mmm. Maybe I need a sabbatical. Maybe he was right, a vision quest might be exactly what I need…

When I was a teenager, I was always the girl that wanted it until she had it…and then not so much anymore. I was like this when it came to clothes, boys and even places I lived. Until I met a boy that seemed to hold my attention,well for the most part. I kind of assumed that the rest was just a phase you know, and one that I’d obviously out grown. Boy was I wrong. 

I should have taken the fact that I felt an undying urge to break up with him every year, over a period of 6 years none the less, as a sign. But I didn’t. I told myself it was just cold feet, fear of commitment and whatever else made me feel better. Denial anyone? The only other thing that seemed to hold my attention was writing. It was the only thing that I did completely effortlessly, when I was writing about something I liked of course. But as I started writing as a “career,” somewhere along the line I lost why I wanted to write in the first place. Ultimately, losing the pure fun of it. 

Now, after writing for various publications and covering various topics over that past 5 years or so, I seem to be at a crossroads. I’m not really finding the topics I cover all that interesting. For a while, in Miami, I covered all and everything fashion. In the beginning, I liked it so much that I nearly transfered to A.I. and changed my major. Thanks goodness I didn’t because a year into it, I got bored. So I stopped attending the shows, even for fun, and started writing about music. I never really got bored of music, but I did realize that I’m not a very good critic. I’m too soft. It’s just not in me to give a bad review. Ever. So that didn’t last long. 

Then I did food and restaurants, which I still do and it’s fun. I also worked a little PR, putting together some events and doing some national reporting for non-profits. That, for me, was very fun. I’ve always enjoyed helping people and raising awareness. It’s actually why I decided to b a writer. I wanted to open up world to things they refused to see. Spread kindness and compassion as opposed to negativity and hate. I wanted to stand for something and serve a purpose. 

That’s not something I can really do previewing local events and artists. Not that I don’t like interviewing creative people and writing them up. If I find artwork that moves me, which is the only kind I write about, I like to share it. Spread the word. I especially like artists that are bold and righteous and stand for something real. So that’s something I hope to continue doing. 

Still, for some reason I can’t seem to do one thing at a time causing me to end up with several unfinished projects. I write articles. I write songs. I write stories and poems. I make jewelry. I paint when inspired. I blog…sometimes. But again, I tend to do all these things simultaneously and rarely finish them all. I feel like I’m in need of a change, not necessarily a big one, just a change. 

Hmm where to begin…

This one actually happened by accident, the other night when I was getting ready for an event at Em & Co. I casually clipped up my hair to the side, all up with a few curls hanging out, to iron out my bangs and when I looked in the mirror (aka my Mom) for a final inspection…thought “hmm this looks kinda cute.” So it stayed, all clipped up on one side like a new, hip version of the classic 80’s side ponytail we were all subject to way back when. 

I never would have considered such a small thing as how I wear my hair to affect my state of mind, and yet it did. As women, we tend to change our hair to symbolize a new phase in our lives. Whether we cut it or color it, the change is always obvious. But changing how I style it, adds a subtle change to my demeanor while lifting a huge weight off my mind. I felt carefree and girly, but most importantly I felt like myself  in a way that I hadn’t for a long time. 

All because wearing my hair in a casually styled kind of way. Go figure huh?

People always say that “if you don’t stand for something, you’ll fall for everything.” So let me tell you what I stand for. 

I stand for equality. I stand for women’s rights. I stand up to racism without fear. I fight for the people. All people. I believe that you should always treat people as you want them to treat you. I always keep in mind something my Mother would say to me as a teenager, “the earth is greater than you and you walk all over her.” So never let anyone make you feel like less than. She had some wise moments that Mother of mine. 

Today I openly stand up against the Prohibition of Medical Marijuana. As someone who has seen the positive difference it can make in those that are sick, I know it can heal. Maybe not forever, but for the moment. Now don’t get me wrong. I don’t think it should be made legal and sold like nicotine and alcohol. Now there’s a drug that kills. Alcohol kills by the millions. Recklessly and without mercy. Let me not even get started on nicotine, a drug that is so deadly it kills people that don’t even smoke. 

Back to the topic at hand. Medical Marijuana can serve a purpose. A positive purpose.