Self-Appreciation Saturdays

SAS: Not Sharing Your Feelings is Selfish. (5/26/18)

Hey, guys – welcome back to TNTH!

Man, I really don’t mean for these titles to be so clickbait like, but I swear: hear me out on this one.

I am one to avoid confrontation with a 10-foot pole. For the past couple of years, I never tried to bring up things or how I feel in situations because I’m always worried about how a person will respond to it. Instead, I try to just ignore my feelings and carry on with my day. While I thought doing so was a selfless act (I mean, I’m not hurting anyone’s feelings by doing so; I’m actually doing the other person a favor of letting it go), I slowly realized just how backward my logic was.

I went to see my therapist for my weekly appointment, and we discussed this concept of being avoidant. For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been the type of person to think before they speak (or at least try to). I will always think how the other person would feel if I brought up something that was random and serious all of a sudden. Many of the time, I see myself continuously doing this because I am simply afraid that my feelings or my thoughts will create an even worse situation than I intended to do.

While it is always right to consider how a person might feel when deciding to talk about how you may feel, keeping how you really feel to spare the other person’s feelings isn’t as great of a deed you think it is.

It’s actually worse in retrospect.

Now, I’m not saying tell your friend that her dress is ugly after she told you she feels really good wearing it. I’m not saying that at all. What I’m saying is that the more you bottle up your emotions for the sake of avoiding conflict and/or discussion, you’re hurting not only yourself, but the person you are interacting with.

Personally, I find it hard to bring up my feelings about conflicting issues because the second I decide I want to bring it up, I constantly think “well, what happens if that person doesn’t take it well and it results in you guys fighting?” Instantly after that, I’m back at keeping it in and ignoring it. Doing so is such a temporary feeling to a long-term issue, and in all honesty, you’re not allowing the other person to have a say, hindering their opportunity to express themselves.

Not every situation will have a good turnout. There will be times where the other person will not agree with what you have to say, and that’s completely fine. Communication in social/personal/romantic relationships is such an important device when hashing out issues you may overall have. Plus, you never know: the other person might feel the same way you do as well.

You never know if you don’t talk.

Talking about your feelings and letting them be known to whoever is around you isn’t an act of being self-centered. Talking about how we are feeling creates honesty and compassion, and it makes you extremely self-aware of who you are and what makes you happy, sad, mad, etc. I’ve learned that anyone who is willing to call you self-centered or selfish because you share how you feel without a filter isn’t really interested in who you are as a person; they are typically just people who want to be around for a good time.

Be unapologetic for what you are feeling. Allow your thoughts to open up a conversation that might be needed in order to move forward with something. Give back what you want from people and listen to what they have to say; you would want the same thing in return.

And the same thought goes with hiding your feelings; you wouldn’t want someone who you care about just hiding how they are feeling when they are clearly upset over something. Also, you would want a chance to talk things out and move forward with whatever you and the other person are going through.

The next time you feel like hiding your true feelings about a situation for the sake of the other person involved, remember that you’re just showing them that it’s okay to shove things under the rug without resolving it, which will only come back up whenever you guys are in another sticky situation.

So start the conversation.

-Liz (:

Voiceless Rant: The Series

A Voiceless Rant: July 2017 Edition.

I promised I’d be honest with myself.

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I promised that I was going to live my life acknowledging every single emotion I was feeling and make it a priority because I lived in the dark for too long regarding them. I always believed that showing your emotions and putting them on the back burner was the “adult” thing to do. I realized it was not. I realized that in order to handle the good and bad in your life, you have to prioritize emotions from both sides of the spectrum. That’s right, no more showcasing only the good emotions and ignoring the bad ones. That’s not who I am and I refuse to conform to those “social norms” where communication is slowly dying. I refuse to play make-believe and pretend that the easiest way to a better life is simply just smiling in everyone’s face.

This isn’t a negative perspective, it’s a realistic one.

Continue reading “A Voiceless Rant: July 2017 Edition.”

Creative Pieces

Scene: The Redemption of Life.

The orange sky is coated with pink cotton candy looking clouds; the sun is setting for the day in a rural North Carolina town. A WOMAN, fit for her 40’s, is sitting on a wooden chair on the porch of her house, looking out into the open field. 

Moments later, a car slowly drives up the road to then stop in front of the woman’s house. JENNIFER, mid-20’s, tall, curly red hair, gets out of the driver’s seat carrying a tote bag full of clothing. She slams the door shut and begins walking towards the house. The woman, CLEMENTINE, notices her. 

Clementine: Miss Castro? What are you doing here?

Jennifer: *holds up the bag* I, um, came to drop this off.

Jennifer steps on the porch and leaves the bag in front of Clementine. She picks it up; the bag reads, “Southwick Dance Academy”

Clementine: … The season starts in two weeks; what’s this for?

Jennifer: I’m leaving the academy. Simple as that.

Jennifer looks towards the ground, trying to avoid contact with Clementine. Clementine analyzes Jennifer’s behavior.

Clementine: Well, I at least deserve a reason why, Miss Castro.

Jennifer: No reason at all. I’m just leaving.

Clementine’s not buying it. She sets the bag to the side and takes a deep breath into a sigh. She looks at Jennifer intently.

Clementine: Alright, what’s going on?

Jennifer: *plays it cool* Nothing. I just thought you needed to know first that I was dropping out of the academy.

Clementine: So, you traveled an hour and a half from your home to come at 6 o’clock in the evening to just drop off a bag of dance attire and tell me that you’re not returning to Southwick?

Jennifer attempts to keep her composure, but she starts fidgeting her foot on the ground.

Jennifer: Yep.

She quickly looks at the time on her phone.

Jennifer: I better get going though, I don’t want to travel back home in the dark. Thank you for the opportunity for being in your company, I hope you have a nice night, Mrs. Southwick.

Before Jennifer could walk out of the entryway, Clementine calls out for Jennifer.

Clementine: If you were so worried about driving in the dark, this would’ve waited until tomorrow morning.

Jennifer stops in her tracks but tries to redeem herself by pretending she didn’t hear Clementine. 

Clementine: *shouts a little louder* But I figured you’d wanted to be out of the town by tomorrow morning since tomorrow would’ve been your wedding day.

This makes Jennifer stop and turn around. The pain was visible on her face.

Clementine: You did send me an invitation a couple of months ago.

Jennifer walks back to Clementine, attempting to hide her pain. She looks at Clementine with a stern, straight mouth; too afraid to open it up due to the uncertainty of word-vomit that may come out.

Jennifer: *disoriented* You have no right bringing up my personal life like that, Mrs. Southwick. I am simply just one of your dance students and you are simply just my dance teacher. What happens with me in my personal life is none of your business.

Before Jennifer turns back around towards her car, Clementine stands up from her chair.

Clementine: Jennifer, I know you’re leaving town. It’s exactly what I did when my husband passed away.

Jennifer: *turns around; flabbergasted* What?

Clementine: You can’t stand walking around through the same halls and doors and rooms that your husband went through. You even sometimes think he’s walking around in there still because the floor creeks and cracks on the spots he walked on the most.

Jennifer slowly walks back to Clementine, astonished.

Clementine: You don’t sleep well at night because you can feel the less weight that is now on your bed. You cry, sometimes, because you’re alone and all you want is for them to hug you and tell you that everything’s going to be okay.

Jennifer’s body language is open. Acceptive. Hurt.

Clementine: Not only do you feel alone in the house, but you feel lost in a city that is not yours. Without him, you feel like you don’t belong anymore in a place you once called home.

Jennifer: *soft* How do you know that?

Clementine: My first husband passed away when I was twenty-five.

Clementine sits back down on the wooden chair. She looks over at the vacant seat next to her. Jennifer takes a seat.

Clementine: I married my first husband when I was 22. Straight out of college. We met at BU in Boston. He was a native, and I lived on campus. He was studying web design and I studied dance. We fell in love and by graduation, he proposed to me.

Jennifer: *reminiscing* Cullen proposed to me on New Year’s Eve.

Clementine smiles at Jennifer, then takes a deep breath.

Clementine: I thought for sure he was my soulmate. We had plans. By 28, we wanted to have a baby. By 30 we wanted to live in a house. By 35, we wanted to have at least three kids, steady jobs and had traveled the world. We had our whole life planned. *sigh* Until one night he went out to the bar with a couple of his friends from college. They were all celebrating a friend’s high-end job hiring at Google. Son of a bitch was too stubborn and drove himself home. Got into a car accident 10 minutes away from our loft. At least he didn’t suffer when he died.

Jennifer: I’m… sorry to hear that.

Clementine: *pauses to regather thoughts* My whole life came crashing down. I went on a downward spiral. I had no one to comfort me in Boston, I barely had any money, I just felt completely lost. For years I was broken. I pushed everyone away, I began partying and getting wasted every weekend; I was on the verge of being close to bones. But I look back at it now and realize that it happened for a reason. Sad to say this but if my husband didn’t pass away, I wouldn’t have found the love of my life.

Jennifer: Richard is in love with you, Clem. Anyone can see it in his eyes.

Clementine: I’ve known Rich for almost my entire life. He was my best friend. We were close until I decided to go away for college while he stayed here in North Carolina. We weren’t as close during our college years, but I realized that he was the only one there who dealt with me even after I pushed everyone away. He was the reason I moved back to North Carolina. I realized all I needed was him, which was home.

Jennifer begins to think about her scenario and her own life decisions up until this point.

Jennifer: I don’t think I could go back to New York though. I don’t know if I want to go back. I just know I can’t stay here. *eyes get watery* It hurts too much to stay.

Clementine: It took me 5 years to move back here. If there’s one thing I regret the most, is waiting too long to come back here. Because of the pain, I didn’t get to do any of the things I planned on doing with my life. Never had a kid, never had a family, and I never traveled the world.

Clementine looks at Jennifer softly, yet with guidance.

Clementine: Go out there and explore the world. Go on and find yourself. North Carolina isn’t where you belong. This is not your home. Travel the world and find the things in life that matter. Go discover yourself as a young woman. Have fun, leave your heart open. Don’t wait 10 years to achieve your life dreams like I did. Once you get a good grip on who you are, make sure you return back home. Where you belong. If I didn’t go back home, I wouldn’t have found Rich again.

Jennifer: What if there’s nothing back home for me?

Clementine: There always is, even when you’re not expecting it.

Jennifer looks out to the sky, which has turned into a violet blue; the sun is just about finished setting.

Clementine: Whenever you’re ready to go back to New York, the feeling will be indescribable. Besides marrying Rich, returning back to my roots was the second best decision I ever made in my life. If you’re anything like me, I know the same will be for you. But you have to be ready. As for now, go find yourself and your purpose in this life. Dance for other companies and academies. Reach to go build your own dancing empire. You’re so young, Jennifer. Don’t waste it on what could’ve been.

Jennifer looks around the rural area for one last time before she begins to get up from her seat. Clementine gets up with her.

Jennifer: I should get going. It’s getting dark.

As Jennifer begins to walk down the front steps, Clementine shouts.

Clementine: Jennifer!

Jennifer: *turns around* Yeah?

Clementine walks down the steps and opens her arms wide and gives Jennifer a hug. Jennifer accepts it and give one right back.

Clementine: It was an absolute pleasure to teach you this past year and a half.

Jennifer closes her eyes, opens them, and sees past Clementine’s shoulder. She sees North Carolina. She sees her late fiancee, Cullen. She sees what could’ve been. She sees the end of a chapter. She sees goodbyes.

Clementine: *lets go* You are an extraordinary and talented young woman, Jennifer. I know you’ll do what’s right.

Jennifer: Thank you, Clem.

Jennifer begins to walk back to her car. She opens the door and enters through the driver’s side. She sits there and closes her eyes for a moment. She remembers the proposal at New Year’s Eve. She remembers announcing the engagement to her family and friends. She remembers moving out to live with Cullen. She remembers moving to North Carolina. The wedding planning, the fights, the long nights in the hospital; the last night she spent with Cullen before he was gone. She looks over at Clementine, who is standing on the porch, looking at Jennifer. Clementine waves goodbye. Jennifer waves back, and starts the car. The car drives off into the road until it cannot be seen anymore.

Self-Appreciation Saturdays

Self-Appreciation Saturday. (3/18/17)

Image result for interracial relationship goals

I grew up in a neighborhood where people of different races were happily together, and lived on with their lives like normal people because they were normal people. 

My father is a Hispanic man. My mother is a white woman. They came together and had me and my sister; Latina & White. But that seems to be a normality in society. Hispanic people and White people being together aren’t quickly looked at as weird because skin-color wise, they aren’t that far apart. 

My partner is a black man. I am a White Hispanic woman. We get our fair shares of stares whenever we are interacting together in public, especially around “Gentrification Brooklyn”. We’ve both notice the distaste glances that people give us, as if we are living in a world where black and white people can’t be in relationships.

There’s always this stigma that society has on interracial couples that it’s not necessarily “right-looking”. I had a conversation with my partner the other day about this one time we were on the G train together and he started to notice a lot of people staring at us sitting together. Now, I don’t normally notice these things because, you know, I’m too busy being blind, but I can understand why people would stare in the first place.

Interracial Couples

I would like to say that I don’t look and stare at interracial couples, but the truth is that I do. I would look at black men with white women and think “huh, you don’t see this much in public.” I would also look at black woman with white men and think the same thing. It should be a completely normal thing to see in today’s society. It baffles me; we don’t look twice at couples who are close in skin complexion, but why do we do that with interracial couples? The truth of the matter is, we’re somehow programmed to look at the “peculiar” or the unusual. In society, we assume that Asians are suppose to date other Asians, black people are suppose to date other black people, Mexicans are suppose to date other Mexicans and so on. When you see two people who physically look nothing like, people tend to stare (It happens also when a skinny person is dating a fat person; somehow people find that weird as well).

I’ve had people look at me twice and what they’re thinking is written all over their faces: why is she with a black man, *insert stereotype of black men in here*. I see people look at my partner with what they’re thinking all over their faces as well: what is he doing with a white woman, *insert stereotype of white women in here*. It gets annoying to always see at least one person staring at you weirdly and making you feel uncomfortable. I know that after awhile, it once made me think shit, maybe we are weird looking together or maybe I’m not right for him because of the way I look and I can say it happens to the opposite sex as well.

So, how do you prevent it?

Sadly, you can’t stop people from looking at you and you can’t stop people from thinking what they think; there’s no gray in a world where people always assume everything is black and white. While there will be people telling you that you and your partner look “weird together” or they widen their eyes when you introduce your partner to friends and family, there’s really no way to prevent it unless you guys have each other’s back when shit like that happens.

Lemme give you guys an example.

Although I am a Latina, I don’t usually see that side of my family where it’s remotely diverse in races and such. I’m closer to my mother’s side of the family, who in a way are not so diverse. In other words, my mother’s side of the family married within the same ethnicity; Italian (my mother was an exception). Like I said earlier, people don’t necessarily question a couple when their close in skin complexion, and my parents are pretty close in skin color. What my mother’s side of the family doesn’t really have are family members in interracial relationships. Technically, I’d be the first. So my partner and I haven’t met extended family yet because we just aren’t at that stage of things yet (we take things extremely slow). I know when the time comes where my partner is going to have to meet extended family as such, things are going to personally feel really awkward for me, because Italian personalities are just… extra. Without even acknowledging it, there’s a slight chance someone might say something that has racist undertones, and I personally don’t know how I will handle it because we, as a couple, never had to deal with something like that. What I do know, though, is that I’m going to stick up for my partner if something like that were to happen, because people love to fuck things up and watch it fall. 

The reality and truth of it all is that if people see gaps and spaces in something, they will try to poke in it and see how far they can intrude before it ultimately breaks. People will say white men and white women “could do better than dating a black man/woman” due to whatever nonsense they believe about black people. People will also say that black men and black women “should avoid dating outside their race because white people are ruining black men/women”. Whatever the nonsense may be, as an interracial couple you have to have your shit put together and stick together so well, that the people you interact with wouldn’t dare try to ruin things.

And it’s extremely important to be put together in today’s America.

In a world where racism rises more and more each day like it’s the fucking 1950’s all over again, you and your partner need to be there for each other. I am extremely protective of my partner in a sense where if someone tries to say some racist shit or spit out a stereotypical statement, I’m coming for you. Black people, specifically black men, have such a stigma forever stamped on their backs for being “thugs” or “troublemakers” that people will try to throw in your face to “look out for you” when really they’re just undeniably racist.

I once had a white friend tell me once that my partner wasn’t right for me for “reasons” after expressing my partner numerous time to this person. This friend didn’t need to say anything more when they automatically assumed something about my partner because of his skin color. Some people are just close-minded as fuck. 

Interracial couples are just always going to be that thing in the list of “peculiar things” because of the stigma that people believe about it. The only thing people will praise about it is the “biracial babies that look exotic and beautiful”. Girl, if you don’t go somewhere with that mess…

But I digress.

Interracial dating is a beautiful thing, and I can speak through experience. You begin to try new things and explore new places. I can definitely say that my partner has showed me a lot of music and genres of it that I didn’t know prior to him, and I think I can say the same thing for him. For other couples, it could be new exploration in culture, tradition, food, manners, religion – pretty much anything. Combining people of different backgrounds is always a great thing to experience, so why not do it with the person you love?

I know I am. ♥

-Liz (:

Self-Appreciation Saturdays

Self-Appreciation Saturday. (3/4/17)

So, you’re a woman who enjoys having sex. Welcome to the club. 

I never spoke about my sexuality because, well, it was never something that was discussed properly when I was younger. I’m 23 and still to this day, I don’t have these long, elaborate talks with my sister about my sex life. It’s just too awkward for me.

But just because I don’t speak about it, doesn’t mean I’m ashamed of it.

Truth of the matter is, yes, I am like many women in the world who are sexually active; I enjoy having sex.

But how many women will actually admit they do? At a young age, we are taught that “losing your virginity” is such a life-altering thing that should be kept sacred until marriage, yet we tell boys to “simply use protection” whenever they decide to have sex.

Women who embrace their sexuality are quickly called sluts. Whores. Hoes. What’s the term to describe a man who embraces his sexuality? A man. 

It will always baffle me to know that there are people out there who will call a woman a slut for liking to have sex, but look past it when a man admits he likes to have sex as well. It’s kinda the same way society says about fat people: “fat people are ugly and skinny people are pretty, despite the fact that they are both still human beings”. 

I lost “my virginity” when I was a teenager. When I first “lost it”, I felt the after-effects of being a teenage girl who had sex for the first time. “Oh, she lost her virginity to a senior and she’s a sophomore; she must be easy. Wow, she gave it up already? She’s a hoe”. I felt my closest friends at the time judging me because I decided to have sex for the first time. Because of the reputation that sex does to a teenage girl, I didn’t publicly admit to being sexually active until I was 21. That was just two years out of the 7 that I’ve been sexually active. I honestly thought that admitting to it would label me as a slut for the rest of my high-school career, and even once I got to college.

I let the stigma of being a sexually active woman affect the way I embraced it. Since I started to, I don’t regret anything that I do or say.

Embracing sexuality is different for every individual woman. Some may see sex has being a very natural thing that can occur with anyone at anytime, and others may see sex has being a very connective and intimate thing to do. Some are both. I definitely view sex has being a very intimate and sensual thing to do with someone you connect with.

I’ve had my fair share of fooling around with people who I liked, but it never resorted to sex. Ironically enough, the person who I lost my virginity too is still the same person I’m currently sexually active with, and he’s been the only one I’ve been active with.

That doesn’t mean I don’t respect the women who’ve had multiple partners. It’s all about what you believe for yourself and what are your morals and values for yourself. I’ve learned over the years that everyone is going to have their perspective and preference when it comes to sex, and that’s fine. What’s not fine, is saying these things to other women just because society said so:

  1. “Losing your virginity” is not a not real thing. No, a penis does not take this thing labeled “virginity” inside your vagina and suck it out like vacuum cleaner (wow, that was vivid…), because a virginity is not something that you have inside you that you are born with. Many girls and women, including myself at one point, would blame themselves for losing it so soon and start to feel like they are the things society labels sexually active women. Listen, some people are ready at 16 like I was, and some people are ready when they are 21. It doesn’t matter. Stop wishing or regretting “losing your virginity” because it does not exist. You just had sex for the first time. That’s it.
  2. You aren’t a “slut” or a “whore” if you enjoy having sex. Again, these words are socially constructed to label women who “step out of their societal role” and honestly, those words are so overrated. Women, you are allowed to enjoy having sex, I mean why wouldn’t you? Sex is supposed to be a pleasurable thing for both male and females, so why act like you don’t do it or enjoy it? If you’re open about your sexuality, more power to you. You’re a natural living organism who enjoys doing natural living organism things. That’s it.
  3. Just because you’ve had multiple partners doesn’t mean you’re “easy” or your vagina is “loose”. Again, people had different perspectives of what sex is, and if a women thinks having sex is just as natural as a man think it is, then stop calling her easy. A women who’ve had multiple partners does not mean she fucks anything with a penis. People have these assumptions of women with previous multiple partners because of the way media portrays women who do. You have Maury and Jerry Springer and every other crazy daytime show that depicts women in this light that they are sleazy and easy, and apparently sleep with so many men, they don’t know who their baby’s father is. Also, MEN: stop believing that a women with previous multiple partners has “whack pussy” because it’s “loose”. Anatomically, a vagina tends to only “loosen” when you have kids, and even then it’s not to the exaggeration that most men depict “loose” vaginas. Just how all penises come in different sizes, so does vagina. Just saying.
  4. Religious ladies: stop looking down at the women who have sex before marriage. I don’t discriminate towards the women who decide to wait until marriage to have sex. Good for you, girl. Just because you decide to wait doesn’t mean that those who don’t are “spawns of Satan” and “unholy” or not pure anymore. It also doesn’t mean you are better and more classy than the women who have sex before marriage. It just means you’re waiting for marriage to finally have sex and you’re the same amount of woman as those who don’t wait. Again, we are all human.
  5. Non-religious ladies: stop looking down at the women who wait until marriage. The same thing goes to us women who didn’t wait until marriage. Women who wait aren’t uptight or “too ugly to get some”, they are simply waiting because that’s their religion. Don’t knock it.
  6. Just because you like doing more than traditional missionary, doesn’t make you a “slut” or a “nasty bitch”. Over the years, I’ve done things that I never knew I would like doing, and I’m proud to say that they’re probably some of my favorite things to do during intercourse. Sex is not like the movies where the woman is constantly on her back and the man is putting in all the work on top. Sex is spontaneous, sometimes rough, filthy, porn-like, and that’s fine. Listen, if you’re only being freaky and nasty to the one you’re involved with, I don’t see the problem. The quicker you admit you like more than the traditional, the more spicy your sex life becomes.
  7. Yes, fat girls can embrace their sexuality too and feel confident doing it. I am not the skinniest person. I have ass and thighs and stomach and rolls and yes, jiggling happens. All that doesn’t mean that fat girls can’t enjoy sex or embrace it? A lot of people, especially in today’s society, think that fat girls do not have sex because they’re fat. You’d be surprised how much we do though. I am proudly a fat girl who embraces my sexuality and feels super confident in myself doing it. Don’t let “beauty standards” affect the way you view sex and how to do it. You’re human whether you’re fat or not.
  8. On a serious note, don’t allow people to sexually harass you just because you embrace your sexuality. Listen, NO MEANS NO. Just because a woman has sex a lot or is open about her sexual life, doesn’t mean she condones unwanted sex. If a man tries to have sex with you and his reasoning behind why he won’t stop trying to get into your pants is “what’s wrong? I thought you like having sex”, kick him in his balls and leave. Seriously. Again, people who embrace their sexuality are human, with real human emotions.
  9. Lastly, don’t allow people to tell you how you should feel about sex. Sex, although something very modern, is still viewed as being this very traditional thing where women have to be submissive and men are the animals and blah blah blah. If someone tells you that what you like to do is “unladylike” or “gross”, I say screw them.  Sex is whatever sex is to you. If it’s sensual, gentle, passionate; cool. If it’s rough, vigorous, and kinky; cool. Don’t allow anyone’s judgement make you feel like you’re having sex wrong or you like doing the wrong things “for a woman”. Do what you like to do!

It’s 2017; let women embrace sex the way that they naturally want to. If we can let men embrace their sexuality and explore it, then we can let women too.

For the last time, we’re human. We’re all human.

-Liz (:

Self-Appreciation Saturdays

Self-Appreciation Saturday. (2/11/17)

It’s been “cuffing season” all winter long, but February is takes it to a whole new level. With Valentine’s Day in a couple of days, it could be hard to get away from any reminders that you are single this Valentine’s Day season. 

Instead of flipping the bird at every Valentine’s Day themed aisle at a store, take a different approach on Valentine’s Day. Who needs those fake tasting overpriced chocolates and flowers that are just going to die the day after? Before you get consumed on how artificial Valentine’s Day can be and try finding a “last-minute bae” for the day, consider these little tips and thoughts about how you can feel good about living the single life.

  • Being single means you don’t have to spend money! Listen, I’m a cheapskate; I really don’t like spending the little money I have on things that aren’t thoughtful or useful. If you’re like me, being single will feel great around this time of month. You don’t have to worry to go last-minute shopping or do last-minute planning for something that is pricey and most likely generic.
  • Who says Valentine’s Day is meant to be spent with a boyfriend/girlfriend? Instead of feeling bad that you don’t have a “bae” to spend your Valentine’s Day with, spend it with your other single friends! Some place in your city there should be a bar or club open specifically meant for all the single ladies. If you’re not the type who likes to go out, staying home and spending time with your friends is just as much as a date night than one with a boyfriend/girlfriend. Make it a Friend Valentine’s Day!
  • Being single means you only have to worry about yourself. When you get into a relationship, not only do you have to take your feelings into consideration, you have to take the other person’s as well. Relationships are all about compromising and finding a middle ground on things (which will be next week’s SAS post). When you’re single, your energy and focus are all on yourself. Being single, in my opinion, gives you the time need to work on yourself and to love yourself before you let someone else in your life on that level.
  • You don’t have to take another person’s preferences or schedule for consideration. I find myself having to work around my partner’s schedule because, let’s face it, we both want to see each other but we are also adults who have business to take care of. With my grad school classes and his teaching job, we only get to see each other once or twice a week, and for me, those two days have to be previously planned out and all about him. When you’re single, you get to spontaneously go out and follow your own schedule. I’m not saying all relationships suck the fun out of your personal life, what I’m saying is that a part of your personal life becomes your partner’s as well, and when you’re single, you don’t need to worry about sharing your life with anyone else.
  • Being single doesn’t mean that nobody wants to be with you. Secret confession: I’ve been single for most of my life, and I always thought it was because nobody wanted to be with me. It made me insecure, seeing all these boys going out with these girls and every person that I had a crush on didn’t feel the same way. Being single just means you haven’t found the one yet, and that’s fine. You shouldn’t validate your self-worth by seeking someone to like you. It may seem like the greatest thing to do is be in a relationship, but girl, live your life.
  • Lastly, don’t be bitter about being single and just enjoy life! Embrace some time by yourself before you find the love of your life. Have fun and be wild, spontaneous, and adventurous! You have your whole life ahead of you to settle down and be with someone you love. If you’re in your 20’s like I am, don’t try to grow up too fast and find someone to marry and have kids with. You have your later years to do that! Enjoy the time you have as being a young adult, because you honestly aren’t going to ever get them back.

Now excuse me while I go listen to Natasha Bedingfield’s “Single”.

-Liz (:

Self-Appreciation Saturdays

Self-Appreciation Saturday (2/4/17).

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I am a fat girl, and I’m not ashamed to call myself that.

I never liked to call myself the “F” word because I thought it was more of an insult than a term to actually describe yourself. For years I would call myself chubby, thick, big, curvy, chunky; pretty much any variation of what it meant to be fat. As I started to get older, I realized that I wasn’t any of those things because the reality of it is that I am not just a little chunky. I’m not a little chubby. I’m more than thick and big is not doing it justice. I realized that the word “skinny” is widely used to describe people in a positive light, whereas “fat” isn’t.

I admitted to myself not too long ago that I was a fat girl, and I’m unapologetic about it.

I began to get bullied in the 6th grade; people would make fun of me to the point that I began to skip lunch in school and drink water for 8 hours a day. The bullying was bad to the point that I remember losing it during my math class one day at the end of the year. I mean, it took a visit to my principal and the guidance counselor from my parents to finally stop the bullying, but it doesn’t mean the image of being “the fat girl” ever went away.

Of course, as I got older, I began to gain more weight; it’s life. When I was 19, I had to get my gallbladder removed because I was beginning to get unbearable pain from it, not realizing that once I removed it, it would cause such a rapid weight gain. I gained 60 pounds in a matter of four years, and I am currently at my heaviest. I can share this about myself because I am now trying to get lose the weight that I gained, and not so I “feel better about myself”, but because I want to get healthier.

My weight does not make me ugly. “Fat” isn’t a term you call “ugly girls”. My weight does not limit me from doing everyday activities, although it does make some things more difficult to do than others. I can walk, I can run, I can stand, I can love, I can be sexy, I can have sex, and I can be appreciated in someone else’s eyes.

Fat people are still people.

Fat Girl/Fat Guy Love:

People have this assumption that if you are a fat person, your love life is pretty much doomed. People think that fat people aren’t attractive, so they look over them as potential partners (of course, unless fat people are your cup of tea). I will admit, I tend to look over fat guys who don’t appeal to me, and I can say that guys look at me and say the same thing; but why does it have to be that way? Why is it programmed in our minds that thinner people are more attractive? Why are people so turned off by a stomach and love-handles? The fact of the matter is fat people love just as much as thinner people, and we like people and have crushes the same way as well. I had a boy in my middle school tell me once that he didn’t like me because “I didn’t look like his type” and instead proceeded to ask me if I can talk him up to my more thinner, “prettier” friend. Things like that make fat people feel the way they do about themselves, and end up never loving themselves for more than just their body.

Screenshot 2017-02-03 at 2.55.09 PM.png After all of the years of being rejected by the people who I liked, I finally had a connection with a person who still thinks I’m cute and pretty and beautiful in my own way. He, of all people, knows that sometimes my fatness can make me insecure, especially in times of intimacy. One of the things that I acknowledged that he began doing was whenever we would just cuddle and fall asleep, he will place is hand on my stomach. At first, it make me feel very insecure about myself, and I would actually move it away sometimes. I realized that after he began doing that, I wasn’t so closed in with my body as I once was. I believe it was a sign telling me he didn’t care about it, and that he loved me for me. Every fat girl or guy should feel that revelation that they can be loved too.

Fat Sex:

Stop thinking that having sex with a fat person is a sin. It’s just sex with a fat person. People have this assumption that fat people don’t have sex. “Fat sex looks like it’s complicated, I mean how is she going to ride? How am I suppose to find the vagina/penis? Is it just fat slapping against each other when you’re doing doggie-style?”

Heh, listen.

Obviously in my situation, I am the fat person during sex; my partner is about 120 pounds lighter than I am, and from what we discussed, having sex with a fat person is just as regular as “average people sex”. I mean, there’s just more thighs, more boobs, and a lot more ass. I am able to do anything a thinner person can do during sex, so why do people think fat sex is nasty or disgusting? I don’t know about you, but sex is such an amazing experience for me, and when I’m in it, I feel confident, sexy, and alive doing it. The Nerdy Nonconformist said it best in her blog post, “Fat and Fuckin’“, that “we have sex lives – often, really really GREAT sex lives – and that we are not all just laying in the bed, huffing and puffing, doing the missionary position only.  Or always doing doggie style so we can rest on our elbows.  We can bounce like no other and can put ourselves in positions that are AH-MAZE-ING.” 

She also points out that just because fat people have sex, doesn’t mean that we are having sex just to have it. Fat people don’t “fuck” anyone just to feel desirable to someone. Fat people, especially fat girls, are not having sex with a man who wanted to have sex with her to say “I want to see how sex with a fat girl is like”. Fat people aren’t an experiment. Stop treating their sex lives as one.

Fat People Haters:

There will always be people out there that deem our bodies as disgusting and disgraceful because “we are killing ourselves with their fat bodies more and more each day and it’s unacceptable to be fat.” As much as you want to punch those kind of people in the face, you simply just need to ignore those type of people. Sometimes, it’s hard to look past all the negative things that comes with the word “fat”. It’s the first thing someone will call you if you’re arguing with someone and it’s the first thing people will joke on. It’s also the oldest insult and joke in the motherfucking book. How about you come for something that might actually hurt me? At the end of the day, people who try to put down the fat community are just upset that we are currently in a movement where fat girls can wear “fat-kini’s” in the summer time and a fat guy can be just as smooth as a skinny one. The fat community is beginning to accept and embrace themselves in ways that we haven’t for years on end.

If you defend yourself and love yourself, your body isn’t going to be the thing people worry about. They are going to be looking at you for your intelligence, generosity, and personality. Even the skinniest people can have ugly hearts and personalities.

Becoming healthier for you, not because you’re fat:

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Going back to my story, I am currently on Weight-Watchers because for me, my health matters more. I am not sorry for being a fat girl, and I’ve accepted the fact that at my current state, I am fat. What I won’t accept from it is the fact that now that I’m getting older, my health can begin to take severe downfalls because of the excessive weight gain. I am on this new journey in my life because I want to be healthier and more full of life, not because my fatness is ugly. Stop thinking that dieting is just me trying to lose weight, because while yes, that’s one of the main reasons people do dieting, the other big reason is that people just want to become healthier and adapt healthier lifestyles.

I’m tired of walking up flights of stairs and gasping for breath when I reach the top. I’m tired of not wanting to get the clothes that I like to wear because department stores think that fat girls only wear housewife, looking clothes. I’m tired of not wearing tank-tops in the summer because it’s personally one of my insecurities. Just because I’m tired of feeling this way, doesn’t mean I hate how I look. You should want to change to be healthy. Not because you think you’re ugly.

“Fat” isn’t ugly. It’s natural, and it’s life.

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-Liz (:

Creative Pieces

Scene: “Best-friend bonfire.”

EXT. JENNIFER’S LIVING ROOM (2007) – NIGHT:

In a dark living room with just the fireplace lighting up the room, two best friends sit on their sleeping bags, drinking hot chocolate. The lights are out due to a bad thunderstorm happening outside, and everyone else in the house are sleeping. JENNIFER, a spunky, 15-year old red-head tomboy with a tough-as-nails demeanor, plays with the spoon in her mug while her best friend, MILO, an awkward, long haired, soft-spoken boy, tries to turn on his Sidekick phone. He fails.

Jennifer watches Milo, now frustrated, drops his phone on the ground and looks at the fire; the battery’s dead.

Continue reading “Scene: “Best-friend bonfire.””

Throwback Thursdays

#TBT: All About 2012.

This was me. I sometimes like to call her “dumbass Liz” because, well, you’ll find out.

I’ve experienced 23 years of life, but I can only remember 19 of those years because who can actually remember anything significant before they are four years old? I’ve had my ups and downs every year, but 2012 was a different type of year for me. Five years later and I can say this was the absolute worst year I’ve ever lived. That’s not an exaggeration.

Lemme explain.

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This was me on my 18th birthday. My birthday was on a school day, and for the most part, I had many people show love to me and wish me a Happy Birthday. After school, I went out with a person who was really into and infatuated with, and we both had an amazing time out and about around the city.

A week later, everything turned upside down.

I am not going to sit here and tell you what happened (it’s all on my Tuesday post on the Importance of Mental Health) but I am also not going to sit here and play myself as a victim, because I wasn’t. I will take responsibility for the things I’ve done, for the people I hurt, and for the lies that I’ve told. I wasn’t the greatest person in the world. Not only was I starting to become depressed, I started to make drastic changes without any second thought about it.

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In March, I made this huge transition to being completely blonde for the first time. The process of stripping out my brunette hair color to this pale yellow/platinum blonde literally took my sister 6 hours to do. I came to school that next morning and had everyone turntheir heads towards me. I can’t lie, becoming blonde was something I enjoyed doing because it was something different and something new, and nobody in my grade had the guts to even put bleach in their natural hair. I started to stand out in the crowd, and shortly after, I started to be in more social settings. 

Despite still feeling the aftermath of what happened earlier that year, 2012 was my senior year of high-school which meant “Senior Spirit Week” was a thing:

Since I went to a performing arts high school, I was also in the vocal program; a member of the highest ranking choir within the entire program: Performing Choir. 

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It was my third and final year being a part of such an amazing choir with amazingly talented people. (Fun fact: Ariel Tejada, aka Kylie Jenner’s Make-Up Artist, was a member of Performing Choir as well.) Performing Choir traveled around these different places and performed at different locations over the years. In 2012 specifically, we performed at Carnegie Hall, Temple University in Philadelphia, The Statue of Liberty on ABC’s Good Morning America , and in Connecticut to some place that I totally don’t remember where exactly. In the midst of my depression, Performing Choir was really the only reason why I got up in the mornings to go to school. It was my way of focusing on something that wasn’t my thoughts and problems.

Urban Word’s Brooklyn Open Mic Night @ Brooklyn Public Library.

In an attempt to cure my depression, I took on a new hobby, which was spoken poetry. I became apart of an organization called Urban Word NYC, a place where teens were allowed to go to workshops and express themselves through writing and sharing poetry. For the most part, my craft in poetry was improving a lot and I finally felt like I belonged. To this day, I feel like some of my greatest poetry came out of this era, and sadly it’s one of the reasons why I don’t write poetry anymore. It reminds me of the dark times in my life.

But like everything else, my depression and my need for someone to heal me took over. I made mistakes that hurt the very few people who still cared about me after all that happened, and I decided to leave. I haven’t been back since… I want to say October 2012.

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Prom 2012. (PC: DSP)
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Graduation 2012.

High-school finally ended, which meant I was finally going to part ways with old and toxic friendships and head into college with a fresh start.

Boy was I wrong.

My first semester in college was horrific. This new stress piled on top of lingering old stress and issues made it hard for me to focus in school. Although I passed my classes at the end, it didn’t mean it felt good barely passing. By the end of 2012, I wanted to drop out. By the end of 2012, I let go of the little hope I had for myself and simply began to just be there in dead space. I wasn’t me anymore and by this time, I was still holding on to toxic and abusive friendships, and all the help people try providing for me began to vanish.

Central Park. (PC: Leona Lee)

The majority of my 2012 was me trying to simply fit into groups and places that I normally wouldn’t fit into and fake a smile along the way. 2012 was simply the start of my depression, and the start of one of the hardest process to live through. You see a smile on my face here, but this is what depression disguises itself to be.  I look back at this and remember what I was going through this time of my life. I was on the verge of academic probation, the person who I was still infatuated with began to treat me like shit, my friendship with Obie was on its last legs, and I was still living in someone else’s shadow for my own protection.

I sometimes miss this girl because of how thinner, creative, and talented she was. But I know I don’t really miss her. I don’t miss spending my senior year of high-school crying on the bathroom floor when everyone else was out celebrating. I don’t miss seeing Obie, the person I was always secretly in love with, being with another woman and slow-dancing with her at Prom. I don’t miss the constant paranoia for my life. I don’t miss seeing myself as this awful person. I don’t miss the suicidal thoughts and self-harming sessions.

2012 was the absolute worst year I’ve experienced, but it’s the year that made me who I am today. Because of that, I am forever grateful to had experienced it that year.

-Liz (: