Letters From Liz.

sunday

Dear, guys – welcome back to Letters From Liz.

Today is a weird thing to think about. Today reminds me of a summer that I wish I never had, and a day I wish I didn’t have to go through so soon in my life. My grandfather’s memorial service was on this day last year.

It’s one of those memories that will live on in my head for years to come. I still remember every single detail of that day: the laughs with family, the tears with them, the reunion of sisters after years passed, and just a moment in time where we got to celebrate my grandfather’s life.

Last summer, my grandfather got diagnosed with lung cancer, and we were told that he had only a couple of weeks left to live. It was devastating; we were all losing a family member that in a way kept us together. I now see just how much he was the glue to our family, ironically enough. He was my grandmother’s second husband, after her first one, my mom’s father, passed away in 1997. I was only three.

It was one of the most difficult deaths in my family that I had experienced, and to this day it’s extremely hard to reflect and think back, especially when I’m at family gatherings. There’s always a missing piece of the puzzle; there is always one empty chair missing at the dining room table at my aunt’s house. There is barely any laughter anymore because my grandfather was the storyteller, comedian, the glue.

For it is one of the more major deaths in my family that I have experienced, it truly taught me a lesson about life. When someone older dies, you are reminded that everything and everyone is getting older. I’m not that little girl that I once was, my mother isn’t as young as she was, and my grandparents, well, I lost 2 within 5 years of each other and know that the pain will only happen again later in life as well.

It’s taught me important lessons about family and just how important they are. For 6 years of your life as a teenager, you don’t really appreciate the family you have; you just see them as annoying people who don’t allow you to do anything. Those years wasted on not truly appreciating your family just comes right around to bite you in the ass when you’re in your 20’s when you mature and realize that these humans are valuable figures in your life. I may not be speaking for every 20-something-year-old on this planet, but for me – this is how my journey was.

I try my hardest not to waste my days away being too sad or anxious or angry at the world, and yeah, sometimes it doesn’t work – you stay pressed for God knows how long. But, never forget that the time you have is never granted, and each day should be reflective to some certain degree. What can you do better? How can I improve these flaws of mine? How can I reflect on my life and take what I know now and apply it for tomorrow?

We are getting older, don’t let time get to you.

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Overexposed: A Self-Love Project.

Overexposed: The Graduation Gown That Didn’t Fit.

August 17, 2019July 30, 2019 liz

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Alexa! Play “Pomp and Circumstance”!

Isn’t Graduation season the best? It’s truly a great feeling if you’re the one that’s graduating in that specific year. As a 25-year-old woman, I’ve graduated 6 times. Yes, you heard that right: Kindergarten, 5th grade, 8th grade, 12th grade, college, and grad school. It’s been quite the journey for all of us, especially my family that attended all of them. Nevertheless, I like the feeling of graduation, and nothing felt as special as the time I was about to graduate college with my bachelors.

Being the first one in my family to graduate college, it was a very big deal for me. I felt like I accomplished something that felt so far away, and here I was, in 2016, about to graduate. Of course, the weeks leading up to graduation where some of the most stressful weeks I’ve had that year. For starters, I ordered a dress that was twice my size by accident. I looked like Jesus in his rope, to say the least. Last-minute dress shopping was stressful, but I was happy to find a dress that flattered me, and that was extremely pretty. Everything was going well until I had to pick up my graduation gown.

Hi, my name is Liz, and I cried my eyes out when I realized the graduation gown I got didn’t fit me.

It was a warm, Spring day and I was excited to pick up my cap and gown from my college. To finally have one in my hands felt completely insane; it felt like it was ages ago when I wore my burgundy cap and gown at my high-school graduation which sucked by the way. Anyway, the college had its graduates sign a cap and gown form prior to picking up our gowns. Once I saw the sheet and what I had to write down, something seemed extremely fishy.

Why would they ask what our height in order to get a cap and gown?

Normally, it would make more sense if they asked what our size was instead of just our height. I understood at the time that maybe they just wanted to get the proportions right so that the gown wasn’t hitting the floor, but still something didn’t click. I shrugged off the thought and wrote down my height: 5 feet tall.

After the two hour commute to my campus and then waiting another hour for the doors of the cap and gown room to open, I was finally about to receive my cap and gown. A nice gentleman took my slip and saw my height. He gave me the 5’0 to 5’3 gown. I analyzed the bag and it appeared quite small. I asked the man if this was actually going to fit me, and he said: “the extra fabric for the taller graduates in that range will allow it to fit.” I trusted his judgment. He’s been doing this for years, right?

Wrong.

I came home around 2pm and excitedly wanted to try on the cap and gown. The cap was all size fits all, so the cap fits like a glove. It was now time to unzip the gown and try it on for the first time. I screamed in shock and absolute fucking fear.

The gown had ripped and it didn’t fit me.

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I was angry, furious, upset, and damn right embarrassed that within their “height system”, I was now too fat to fit in it. Although I was only 5 feet tall, and I did get the gown that was meant for me, it ripped and it didn’t fit. I think I remember telling my father at the time that “graduation is canceled” and… well… “fuck this shit.”

My father offered to drive me back to the bus stop and go back to campus and exchange the gown for a bigger one. I agreed only because I didn’t want to wait that long to go back and get a new gown; I just wanted to get it over with. So, I got my 20 sixes too small gown, put it back in the bag, and went back on campus.

I felt humiliated throughout the entire bus ride to my campus. I kept thinking about my weight and just how big and obnoxious I must’ve looked to everyone. Still being insecure about my body, I felt like a goddamn fucking whale, I kid you not. I see other students on campus with their cap and gowns, without a care in the world if it fits or not because most likely it would. It was embarrassing to go back to that room and ask for an exchange because the one I got was absolutely too small. I felt sick to my stomach.

When I got back to the cap and gown room, it was flooded with other graduates trying to get their gowns and leave. I’ve had a couple of people yell at me for “cutting the line” and I simply had to explain that I was there earlier and needed an exchange. Once I got to the table where they collected your name and sheet, I had to constantly explain to the people that I was there earlier, my sheet was already taken, my name is already checked off in the book, and I’m here for an exchange. Some guy brushed me off and made one of their other workers “handled me” and gladly enough I wished this woman was there earlier in the day to help me out. I told her my situation and she explained that the system is extremely messed up. She continued to say how she tried, FOR YEARS, change the policy of how they distributed cap and gowns. When I told her I didn’t know what size would fit me, she handed me a gown that simply said “Size: HORIZON”. It fit perfectly, to say the least, but it didn’t make me feel any better that I basically got a gown that was size: so fat, you need a special one that would hit around your large, horizontal self. I still felt so ashamed and ugly, and for a moment I was looking forward to was simply tarnished by an experience that remained me just how fat I truly am.

I finally knew better after the second time, now a Master’s gown, in size: HORIZON, two years later.

It was times like that that remind me that there are people in this world that are just not inclusive enough to acknowledge that all body types exist, and that height doesn’t determine whether or not something will fit or not. I am a short, fat girl. I may look small in height, but I’m big when it comes to my weight, and I know that my body type isn’t the only one that doesn’t work well with such nonsense of a system. You can be tall as hell, yet big-boned. You could also be tall and skinny as hell, yet you now have a gown meant for “average-sized tall people” and now your gown is touching the ground. There is a reason why we don’t buy our clothes in clothing stores with height as the system; height doesn’t mean shit.

This cheap, graduation gown that I threw out once I was one with it (I kept my Master’s gown for reasons) made me feel like I was different in an ugly way. It made me feel “special” in a sore-thumb type of way. It made me face the reality that yeah, I am completely overweight for my height, and I knew that already, but this gown had to remind me that I was. It hurt at first until it didn’t anymore.

Times like this are the reason why clothes shopping is an experience on its own. I’m not complaining whatsoever, I’ve mastered the art of clothing shopping for my size, but it’s not like a person with my body can walk into any store and pick up something their size. For fat people, it doesn’t work like that. But, that’s a different chapter for a different day.

At 25, I reflect that time in my life when I was 22, insecure, and feeling like a whale when I ripped that graduation gown. I look back and wished that 22 was a bit more assertive about the situation instead of allowing people to judge and say that “extra fabric will help zip it up”. I wish 22 had a better understanding of the situation, that it wasn’t her fault, and that the only thing she should’ve done differently was try on the gown in the bathroom before taking it all the way home. This event in life doesn’t affect the way I see myself, but it is a reminder that we as a society have a lot more work to do in order to become inclusive.

As to that cap and gown company: listen to that one girl with the actual common sense and change the system.

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Day 16: Stories I’m Working On! (Part III)

August 16, 2019August 9, 2019 liz

Dear, guys – welcome back to Letters From Liz!

If there’s one thing I like my mind to be occupied on, it’s the different varieties of stories I have played out in my head that influence me to write some scenes and dialogues and sometimes post them on here! Being creative in this matter helps me distract my mind from reality in all honesty, and it just allows me to focus on something that isn’t so harsh to my mental health.

But, with that being said, here are some stories I’ve been working on:

1.) The Secret Affair of Two Defense Lawyers

This storyline was inspired by a visual novel on Episode entitled Toothbrush by Lucky, and I recommend anyone that likes to read visual novels to download the app and read this story first! Anyway, the main character that is used in this AI of this story is a woman that goes by Grace. She is the daughter of these two fun-loving characters and after getting her degree in law, she is now one of NYC’s top-dog lawyers. She works for a prestigious law firm that handles some of the biggest cases in the city, and when she gets on board to defend a rich family for identity fraud, she discovers her partner to be quite a handsome man, if I say so myself. His name is Maxwell, Max for short. He was born overseas to a predominantly poor family; scholarships and hard work got him to the place he is now. He’s sort of a goofball, yet he’s serious when it comes to his job and getting the answers he needs to obtain a good case for his clients. At first, Grace wasn’t really happy with the add-on, she works better on her own, as she always had, but her boss insists that “two lawyers are better than one for the Mayberry family”, and so the rest is history. While the two get to know each other and work on this “sketchy” case, things between them get… steamy. But what happens when some evidence of the case gets into the wrong hands? Grace gets his suspicions that Max isn’t who he says he is, and Max thinks the same about his very closed-in partner, Grace. What happens? I’m not sure yet!

Prior to this revamp of Grace’s character, she was following the footsteps of her mother, who became a world-known dancer by the time she was 26. After Grace became a college freshman, I didn’t know what direction I should take her, and for awhile her story ended there. But, I really like Grace as a character because she’s truly a resemblance of her mother, Mollie: a workaholic, passionate, and totally independent that really doesn’t need anyone! But, they are both very vulnerable characters behind closed doors and I really wanted to explore that with Grace after doing so with Mollie for years. This storyline very much reminds me of Holder and Linden’s relationship (minus the romance) in The Killing, and I guess I just always have to go back to the show where my inspiration started. I’m totally going to write a scene about these two for the second half of Blogust!

2.) The Abandoned Movie Theater

If you guys didn’t read the scene between Rosie and Micah earlier this month, I advise you to do so because this synopsis will make a lot more sense! Anyway, Micah Kamalani is the middle child of the Kamalani family. With his older, half-brother following his father footsteps in the music education career path and his younger teenage twin sisters who are a handful on their own, Micah is pretty much forgotten in the family. This causes Micah to act out a little bit; he’ll get in trouble every now and then, he goes things without his parent’s permission (he got his nose pierced and a tattoo both on his 17th birthday), and although his family loves him to death, they slowly lose their grasp on him by the time he turns 20. Micah is in college for music, but he has bigger dreams than just teaching it in school; he wants to play it for thousands of people one day and even produce some hit songs for the biggest names in the music industry. Rosie Delgado, on the other hand, is a 20-year-old girl who is attending college for art. She’s introduced in this short story, but after this story ends, she decides she wants to leave Philidelphia and head up north to NYC. She wants to take her passion and learn more about it so that she can make a life for herself. Of course, coming from nothing isn’t easy when starting your life in a different environment, so she works at the campus bookstore to help pay for the things she needs in order to survive. Micah and Rosie meet, and the beginning of their complicated relationship begins. Micah isn’t a broken soul as much as Rosie is, but he understands where Rosie comes from when she explains to Micah how it’s really her against the world. What Micah doesn’t know is that he got himself involved with a girl that has an even crazier and violent past back in Philidelphia. She’s secretive about something, and Micah is determined to find it out. Hence, he finds her walking into an abandoned movie theater. He confronts Rosie about it, and she admits that this abandoned movie theater is where she lives.

Rosie, in this universe I created for a fiction class back in college, is a runaway teen in Philidelphia and she finds herself wanting a way out of the street kid life, but she is already so deep into it. She has an abusive boyfriend that pimps other girls out, and sometimes that requires Rosie to do the same for money in order for her to survive. The money she does have and lends to her boyfriend goes straight to drugs, which Rosie never wanted a part of and never wanted to try. So, when she finds the opportunity to get herself out of the toxic environment surrounded by her boyfriend and drug-addicted “friends”, she takes it. She anonymous calls the police about a tip in a case they are working on, and the police raids the place and takes everyone in, as well as Rosie. Detective Sam Hudson, the man that got the call about this tip, notices that Rosie is different: she’s not doped-up on drugs like everyone else, she’s not fighting her way out of the interrogation room. Hudson talks to her and then that’s how the short story starts.

I really wanted to add Rosie to the universe that I’m usually busy creating, and decided that Rosie would be a fit into Micah’s life. They are both misfits in their own way, but they both are just troubled young adults wishing someone would pay attention to them, and they truly do confine in each other to be each other’s support system. They both see each other, or do they? Hmmm…

That’s pretty much the two main stories that I’m working on currently! Let me know if you’d like me to write some scenes about some of these stories in the future!

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Blogust 2019: The Series

Day 15: Five Albums That Impacted My Life.

August 15, 2019August 10, 2019 liz

Dear, guys – welcome back to Letters From Liz!

For many of us, music is one of those powerful things that can ultimately impact a person’s life. Whether or not a certain song or album came to your life during the right time or if that song or album is just your most favorite, the music we remember the most has an impact on us. So, I asked myself a question that my Americana Literature professor asked my class 3 years ago in his class: What are five albums that you would take with you on a deserted island?

Here are my top five picks, ladies and gentlemen.

Continue reading “Day 15: Five Albums That Impacted My Life.” →

Blogust 2019: The Series

Day 14: The One Thing I Struggle With The Most.

August 14, 2019August 1, 2019 liz

Dear, guys – welcome back to Letters From Liz!

We all struggle with something in our lives. I don’t know why but that opening sentence reminded me of a shitty opening universal message statement used in academic essays in college.

Anyway, I still mean it: we all wish there was a solution to master and conquer that one thing that we struggle within our lives. If it’s keeping friends, being assertive, remembering important times, whatever it may be. Some of them are easily manageable and may only affect a small part of your life, and others are not so lucky. Those struggles require some professional assistance, or what I like to call: therapy.

Although I keep in mind that therapy isn’t going to solve all of my issues, it does provide a time and place to discuss those issues. As I been to therapy in the past year a lot of the issues I have become less stressful, but there are still some things that no matter how many times I talk about it and try to do the opposite of what I’m doing, I still find myself subconsciously doing it.

The one thing I struggle with the most is the need to seek approval from those around me.

From talking things out and observing them myself for the past year, I’ve realized that it’s been tough for me to be assertive with myself and to be okay with putting myself as a priority. Although I feel like I’ve been doing good with assertiveness, I still feel like all that hard work falls apart when I’m anxious about someone’s approval. In other words, I’m still very afraid to make my own major decisions, and would most likely make them if I feel like they are the right thing to do and if other people approve of them, which yeah, it’s ridiculous, but I just seem to have trouble shaking that thing off.

Maybe it’s the perfectionist in me or just my lack of confidence in myself when making decisions, but whenever I feel like I’m making a bad decision with something, I automatically have to run and tell someone to convince me that I’m making a bad decision, as if my own judgment isn’t enough.

Although I’ve written posts and posts about how you shouldn’t seek approval, it’s still easier said than done. I’m finding different approaches to tackling this issue of mine, and as I sit here writing this, I haven’t found something that helps me stop seeking approval.

Because this is the thing: my anxiety is a bitch, and she tries as hard as possible for me to second-guess everything in my life, and although I make a decision that is best for me at the moment, she doesn’t allow me to be completely okay with my decision until someone reassures me that it’s okay. She doesn’t allow me to be assertive enough to the point where I can respect other people’s wishes, yet still, respect my own.

Will I ever break out of this cycle? Maybe one day, but I think I have to do some more growing up in order to finally feel like I can listen to my own voice without others influencing it.

What’s one thing you find yourself struggling with?

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Blogust 2019: The Series, Topic Tuesdays: Raw & Personal

Day 13: Let’s Talk About Non-Binary Pronouns.

August 13, 2019July 25, 2019 liz

Dear, guys – welcome back to Letters From Liz!

I’ve might’ve said this about 20 times on the blog already, but we really do live in such a progressive time. A lot of changes (good and bad) are being made, and a lot of our ideologies about things are not simply black and white anymore; instead, they are gray.

A lot of the gray areas that are now being discusses is the concept of gender. It’s always been that at birth, you were born as either a boy or a girl; penis or vagina. Many of us grew up with that ideology and when it was questioned (i.e. being transgender or dressing in drag), many of our younger selves mocked it. I mean, the Maury Show used to have a whole segment on drag queens trying to guess if they are a man or a woman? Don’t lie; your younger self loved that shit.

But, we grow up and we decide to start thinking for ourselves. We start questioning society roles and society’s rules about everything, and when you join a group that relates to the struggles you may be having as a person, you then finally feel like you belong in a community that is just like you.

I can only imagine how many guys and girls grew up feeling like something was wrong because they didn’t feel like a guy or a girl.

Although I am a cis, straight woman, I do have a non-binary sibling, and it’s been extremely hard to not slip up on their pronouns.

My sibling has been open about their identity for a few years now, and when the process first started to happen, it was really hard to accept just because on the other side, you feel like you are losing someone that you knew your whole life. While I am now more acceptive of the pronouns and become more aware of the non-binary ideology, it’s still a concept that you definitely have to train your brain to learn. Many of us do identify others and their relationships simply by their gender/sex, and when the person tells you it’s otherwise, it feels foreign. But, I know at the end of the day, it’s not about me and how I feel, it’s about what makes them happy and if they feel like they are finally being seen as them, then that’s all that matters about the situation.

It’s easier to catch myself slip up when writing about my sibling and using their proper pronouns, but verbally speaking it’s still a challenge. Yes, “she”, “her’s” and “her” still slip from my mouth when referring to my sibling. Yes, I call them my sister. Little by little I am trying to show my sibling that I am supportive of their identity and that it’s going to take some time for me to get used to their pronouns, but it does not mean that I don’t care or don’t listen if I slip up.

If you are anything like me, a person with a sibling that identifies as non-binary, then please be respectful of your loved ones who identify as such. I could only imagine how difficult it was for them to open up and discuss a concept that many of us are not familiar with and one that many people do not accept. Be gentle, kind, and respectful. Also, don’t treat them any differently! Just because your sister or brother uses the oppositely signed pronouns, it doesn’t mean that their interest and the things that bonded you guys in the first time disappeared.

We, as a society, have to stop thinking that male and female are forms of identity. Maybe they are to some but to others, they don’t mean a thing. No, your reason to not respect your child’s wishes to be called the opposite or non-binary pronoun because “you gave birth to a boy/girl” is not valid. Your feelings as a cis person do not matter in these situations.

If you truly love someone, whether it’s a family member, friend, spouse, whatever they are to you: you would accept them for all that they come. Nothing is truly changing about them, just their unofficial society-written concept of gender.

Love you, Meg. ❤

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Blogust 2019: The Series, Self-Reflection

Day 12: The Ultimate Guide to Friendship, As Told By A Person With SAD.

August 12, 2019July 25, 2019 liz

Dear, guys – welcome back to Letters From Liz!

My name is Liz, and I have Social Anxiety Disorder; I mention this at least twice a month on my blog, don’t look so surprised. What does that look like you might ask? Well, it started out as a fear of traveling on public transportation, then as a fear of leaving my house, and although I’ve been getting better at managing it, there are some things I don’t think I’ll ever get good at. Yes, that means my mother is still the person in my life making important appointments for me. Yes, I cannot order my own food over the phone. And yes, I still get anxious interacting with people.

So how does one person with SAD live their lives in a social matter? Well, it’s different for every case.

Some people are more outspoken than others, while some are just extremely afraid of human interaction and feel most comfortable being by themselves. I like to believe I am in the middle: I enjoy my alone time way too much to the point I forget to socialize every once in a while, and when I do, I pretty much become okay with interaction.

My biggest struggle in life, though, is friendships. I don’t have many of them.

You see, my social anxiety has a hard time believing that long-distance friendships can work and that it’s not awkward to keep in touch with people you don’t see on a regular basis. I don’t tend to lose friends because I want to, it happens because not everyone is going to understand how SAD works for you, and that’s fine; you can’t make people understand why it’s hard to keep in touch. Also, my social anxiety tends to make me look like a shitty person because I’m not a consistent person with people. What I mean by that is I could have a whole conversation with you at the moment just because I’m comfortable, but if you catch me at a time where my anxiety is absolutely through the fucking roof, I’ll talk to you like you’re a stranger again. This type of scenario happened a lot during my college and grad school days, simply because semesters come and go and you may not ever see them again… until you guys take another class together again. My point being is that friendships are still the trickiest thing for me to understand.

So, how do you keep friends while having SAD? It also depends on the person who has it.

For me, I don’t have many friends because I just have major trust issues with people and I’m super overprotective with myself around new people who want to become friends with me. I don’t mind being cordial with acquaintances that have the same agenda as me, but when I feel like someone actually wants to be my friend, I shut down and I run away. Maybe that’s due to my trauma, maybe it’s SAD; who knows?

But the friends I keep (aka my partner and college friend that now lives across the damn east coast) must understand how SAD works for me. With that comes communication and agreements, really, that sometimes I’m going to be a shitty friend because of SAD but for the most part, I will be absolutely loyal to you as a friend. I always use my friend, Tori, as an example of someone who gets it; we may not see each other for a while and we may only do some text message check-ins every once in a while, but she knows that keeping in touch is extremely uncomfortable for me at times, and she understands that I order to help me be comfortable, the atmosphere stays the same. In other words, we both grew up since our days in college Acting, but the vibe our friendship has never left. And as with my partner, well, there’s a whole set of other things that play a role when you are involved with someone romantically.

The most important thing I am learning as a person with SAD is that people don’t know that they are truly signing up to become friends with two people instead of one. Anxiety, especially on a clinical level, is really living your life as a Jekyll and Hyde. One of them is truly you, the quirks and smiles and the relatable, likable side that likes to socialize and be around people, but then there’s the other side, her name is Anxietina, that truly wants to keep you all for herself and have control of the body that you both live in. You don’t have to be a person with depression or anxiety to completely understand the duality, but recognize that someone with SAD struggles with this other entity every single day. I know I do.

I may not be the greatest example of a person with a social life that has SAD, but I know there are so many people out there who are the leader of their friend groups and still deal with some levels of social anxiety. As someone with SAD, we always want to be able to be social with other people; what’s the fun of just being by yourself all of the time? We just have a harder time with some areas of life than others, and that’s okay.

So, what is the ultimate guide to friendship, told by a person with SAD?

There is none.

It’s about being able to challenge your anxiety, as well as respect it in order for others to respect it. Not every friend will, and not every time will you be able to challenge your anxiety, but hey – that’s the beauty of learning and growth.

Also, it’s about remembering to be yourself.

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Blogust 2019: The Series

Day 11: Music to Start Off Your Week!

August 11, 2019July 25, 2019 liz

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Dear, guys – welcome back to Letters From Liz!

Today’s post is going to be short and sweet: I wanted to share some music with you guys! I know it’s been a while since I shared the music I’ve been listening to on the blog, but I always found it a lot easier to share the playlists I’m listening to on here, so here I am – posting my playlists to help you get through the week!

Whether you are a KPop fan or an old-school fan, these playlists will help you guys get up on your feet and get your day started!

Here’s to a new week of opportunities, life, and progress!

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Overexposed: A Self-Love Project.

Overexposed: #ThunderThighs.

August 10, 2019July 25, 2019 liz

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If it wasn’t hard seeing myself becoming heavier and heavier throughout my college years, it was hard to hear people actually talk about it out loud.

Hi, my name is Liz, and this picture is the reason why I didn’t go out to a pool or a beach during the summer for 4 years straight.

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My aunt and her family had just moved to New Jersey the year before this picture was taken. This day was July 5th, 2014. Because it rained on the Fourth of July that year, my aunt’s sister-in-law decided to throw the patriotic-themed party on the following day. Living only 5 minutes away from my aunt, her house was beautiful; there were a lot of smaller rooms in the house compared to my aunt’s, but this house was definitely a lot more modern, and their backyard was amazing. I was really excited to finally be swimming in a pool again after not doing so since my aunt left her house in Staten Island and moved to Jersey in 2013. I was in my happy place, and my sister took this picture with my phone to document the beautiful summer day we were having.

I posted this picture both on Facebook and Instagram with the caption, “#ThunderThighs”.

A couple of days later, my family and I are back in our NYC apartment, hanging out in the kitchen, talking about the amazing time we had that weekend in New Jersey. As we are talking, my mother informs me that my dad had told her the day prior that a family member of ours on my social media commented on my weight in this picture. This person asked my father if I was alright because I was “really heavy” and “looking unhealthy”. My sister got really upset at the comment made, and at that moment, I shrugged it off. To the world, I was so accepting of my body and I did not care what other people thought about it. Behind closed doors, I felt violated.

I deleted the picture on both of my social media accounts, and never felt like i was meant to wear a swimsuit, or anything showing skin, ever again.

It was the fact that I knew I was getting heavier that killed me. It was the fact that the surgery I had done just 10 months before that day that I started to rapidly gain weight. It showed in my body, my face, my everything, and I tried my best to not hate myself for my body being like this, as well as accept that it was something out of my control.

It took me years to put on a swimsuit again; 4 years actually. I still get extremely nervous wearing a swimsuit in public at a beach or pool. Slowly but surely, I’m not caring about what others see my body as.

The thing people failed to realize is that not all weight gain happens because you’re eating 3 burgers and 2 cartons of ice-cream every day. Some weight gain is caused by illness and diseases, as well as aftermaths of surgeries. If we are going to be sympathetic to those with illness and diseases that cause people to lose weight rapidly, let’s keep that same energy for the other side of the spectrum, shall we? I say this because, during this time in my life, it was extremely hard for me to come to terms with my weight gain because it happened so fast. I was barely eating, I had quit soda drinking for a year at this point, and yet people called me unhealthy and heavy, not knowing that this weight gain was simply something out of my reach.

At 25, I know I’m even heavier than I was in that picture, and I don’t hate myself for it. Would I love to lose some weight for my health? Of course, but I’m not going to sit here and hate my body for being what it is.

So yeah, my thunder thighs are still with me, and they aren’t afraid to be shown in shorts, dresses, skirts, nor swimsuits. My thunder thighs are large and in-charge.

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Blogust 2019: The Series

Day 9: What I’m Learning About Myself Through Job Interviews.

August 9, 2019July 25, 2019 liz

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Dear, guys – welcome back to Letters From Liz!

It’s been a crazy couple of weeks for many reasons, but the main reason is that I’m finally going on some job interviews! I’m extremely grateful that after a year of not getting anything set in stone, I’m finally starting to hear back from some places and getting offered job interviews!

I had my first interview after 5 months of nothing in the middle of July for a program that is located in Harlem. Of course, I was nervous, excited, anxious, everything normal to feel for something like this, and I prepared myself to the point where I felt most confident. This was also not like any interview; this was a group interview, and from what I heard from others: they aren’t good. They suck.

Coming out of it and now having the time to reflect on it, I am learning a lot about myself in the process. At the time I am writing this, I have interviews booked for the upcoming month and I’m taking what I’m learning about job interviews and myself to not only help me professionally but personally as well!

I’m definitely learning that work experience may not always be what people are looking for. As a person who decided to fully commit to their studies, I don’t have a lot of the work experience that jobs may be looking for. My credentials are in my education, to be honest. I may not be the smartest person in the world, but I’m confident with the knowledge I have and the degrees I received. I ultimately want to work within the college setting or any academic community, and I believe that my studies and my passions back me up when going into these interviews. I’ve learned that this group interview that many of these candidates really do come from different walkways of life, and although you may not have the experience your other candidates have, you have something that these people liked.

With that being said, I’m learning not to be so hard on myself because of my lack of working experience. While this particular job requires a lot of social working skills, it requires a lot of knowledge regarding education and how to treat students within an academic setting. I’m learning that I, too, have something to offer, and maybe that what an employer may want.

In addition to that, I’m also learning how to ask for help when I need it. My job hunting process was very limited in regards to people knowing my process and progress, but there’s nothing wrong with asking someone for help or advice about job hunting and interviews. My former professor, who is now my friend and mentor, has given me tons of professional tips while my partner has helped me with a lot of the social things that comes with the job. I honestly feel like because of this, I am able to feel more comfortable in talking about these things that were once private to me, y’know? In any situation, it’s okay to ask for help or for advice; it doesn’t mean you failed on your own!

Lastly, I’m learning how to introduce myself out to the world. Yes, my blog also helps me out as well, but I’m learning how to introduce myself professionally. In other words, I’m learning where I want to be and who I want to be in this world. After having to introduce myself through cover letters, job applications and job interviews, I’m getting a better understanding of what it means to introduce yourself in a professional matter.

Anyway, I’m very excited to see where this journey goes! I hope ya girl is employed and rejoiced very soon! Even more so, I’m excited to grow from these experiences.

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