A Letter to Myself

 Dear Me,

I cannot expect my body to be overly muscley, stick thin, or perfectly perfect. Why should it be? Will it make more people love me? No. Will it really make me happier? Probably not. Does it really matter? Not in the long run.

The women I look up to, who I inspire to be, I inspire to be not for their thigh gap, their toned arms, or their perfect body. I look up to them for their determination, their strength, their ability to love and to laugh and to be courageous. There is no correlation between thigh gaps and courage. So I should stop treating it as though it will give me such.

The man I want to love me for eternity will not love me more for having perfectly shaped legs or a perfectly flat stomach. Because eternal love is unconditional love, and he will love me when I work out and he will love me when I gain 5 pounds. Why? Because a flat stomach doesn't give me love and respect. Because a thigh gap doesn't tell you how lovely my personality is. Because there is no correlation between love and perfect curves. So I will stop treating it as though it will give me such.

 And how sad that I should be so harsh on my own body? The body that wakes me in the morning and puts me to rest at night.
The body that cradles my soul.

So, instead of striving towards a thigh gap, or for sleek arms, or a flat six pack, I will wish for other things.

I will wish to always have legs that can carry me up into the mountains and back down to my home. I will wish for lungs that make it so I can laugh for hours and run for miles. I will wish for arms that hug perfectly and cradle little souls. I will wish for a backbone that stands straight and firm. I will wish for hands that can always paint and inspire.

Because those things create love, laughter, determination, strength and courage.

Breathe.




I deserve love--whether I'm perfect or not.
(repeatx10000)

I love you.

Love, Me

Success from a D-

In the year 2011, I made up my mind that I was going to be a high school English teacher. Why? Because I liked books, and I liked school, and Mrs. Nichols always seems really happy, so why not?

And then in that same year, I went to college, I took English classes and I just figured I was meant to be a teacher. I never questioned it, doubted it, or even thought about it. 

But then...I took an English class my second year of college and I fell in love with this thing that made 90% of Americans cringe...politics. My professor forced us to learn about our nation and government by making us read and question our ideals about society. And there was all of these statistics and arguments, and I l o v e d it. To this day, it is still my favorite class I have ever taken. 

And I finally got the courage to take a political science class. 

And I hated every second of it. I had this professor, who I will leave unnamed, who strongly believed in a patriarchal society, who made you feel like an idiot for asking questions (it's not my fault he had such a strong accent), and who did not care about politics, only his own opinion. On the first day of class there were 20 kids, and on the last day, 2 or 3 kids were left. I was one of the 2-3 and I got a freaking D-. 

So I got discouraged and I went back to my English classes, where I got nothing but straight A's. However, I felt different. I wasn't content learning about Emily Dickinson and how to tear apart a novel. I no longer wanted to be in a high school for the rest of my career. 

It took a while, but I finally gained the courage to retake political science (and I got an A so suck it unnamed professor) and I fell in love with it all over again. After a lot of introspection, tears, and coming to the realization that I was unhappy, I thought about majoring in political science. Even though I had plenty of people questioning my decision, telling me I couldn't do it, and that I shouldn't do it, that's when I became my strongest and I became determined to prove them wrong. 

That's when I started over. 

The point of this whole rant is that we should never be afraid to start over, to recreate our dreams, and to say goodbye to unwanted dreams. It's okay to feel challenged, intimidated, and nervous--I remember a teacher telling me once that when I felt excitedly challenged, that's what I should pursue. Because dreams are meant to be exciting and challenging. And no one ever tells you that in college you'll most likely end up wasting more than a few credit hours and biting your nails down to nothing because you just don't know what to do with your life. But it's okay. It's life and it's what we have to go through in order to evolve. 

So thank you, to the those that were doubtful and discouraging. Because of you, I'm going to be successful and I'm going to prove you wrong--especially you, unnamed professor from heck.

Nike says it all.