+Speech Path Grad student
+Former goth kid
My DG blog is at: anchorsandsunshine.tumblr.com
I refuse to let fear of pain prevent me from taking risks that could bring me joy.
"Why I do what scares me" (via iridescent-soliloquy)
don’t let the patriarchy steal your basic human rights
Some days are hard, like when I’m trying to tell someone why it’s hard. Some days it’s all I can do to get out of bed.
But some days - most days, honestly - are great. I have learned so much about what makes me who I am. I LOVE teaching the graduate course, and all the conversations I have with my professor about research and things we can do next. I definitely belong In a university. It’s awesome when students tell me a roadblock in their research, and I help them work their way around it. Or when I can reach into my experience and explain what to expect, or I manage to assuage their anxiety about everything to come. I love it.
I love writing. I am a poet - of no merit, I am sure. But I write several poems each day. And you know what I figured out? It doesn’t matter if they’re good. I write them for me - to express however I’m feeling in the moment. I’ve loved reading at open mic nights. I’ve made people laugh and cry in the same night, and that doesn’t even matter, either. What matters is the way I feel when I get to speak the words aloud. And I like that people are getting to know me, even though it’s only once a month.
I am a hard worker. I have a ridiculous load on my plate right now. Today the pastor of my church ran into me - he has lunch with one of my bosses each week. So I took my break and sat with him. My crazy schedule has almost become a running joke at church gatherings. But today, after asking me what all I do, he kept saying “but you’re required to do that, right?” And I kept saying no, because most of the load I have right now I chose to take on, either out of interest or because it will look good on my CV later. And I love it all. I enjoy it all. That’s how I’m able to get so much done - because it’s not work to me.
I am BRAVE. Which is so bizarre because I’ve always considered myself to be a scaredy cat, but people have called me brave on nearly a daily basis. I never knew I was brave, because there are so many things that I’m afraid of. But I’ve discovered that bravery and courage is doing something even though you’re afraid. Even the other day, when in prayer with a girl at church, she noted how much courage it took for me to go there on my own, and how much it took for me to ask for help. I had never realized that that was brave. It has come up on other occasions too, for other things. But it’s the little comments that surprise me most.
People like to be around me. For some reason I always thought they didn’t, before. I always felt like a bother. But I have made deep, emotional connections in each setting I’m in now (the internship, work, classes, teaching, church, open mic night, etc). They seek out my company, and they reach out to me - ALL of them - to make sure I’m okay. I’m not always. They accommodate for that - and then tell me how well they think I’m handling everything.
I am worth more than I thought I was. And I deserve more than what I’ve accepted before. Even now, hooking up has lost its cheap thrill. Because why should I waste time on someone who doesn’t measure up, that I know I never want to date? I have higher standards now, and I stick by them. Dating has taught me that surprisingly there are more than enough people who want to be with a smart, hard working woman. But I would rather be alone then accept less than what I deserve - someone who honestly cares for me, is honest, and can keep up with me. I deserve that. And I’ve learned not to settle, not to do things that make me unhappy just to make other people feel better, and not to chase. I’ve learned “the game” is not worth playing. I have no time for it.
I mentioned to my therapist once that I was worried. The trust issues are deeply embedded in me, even though I try to circumvent them, and sometimes in quiet moments I begin to question everything I know about someone. I told the therapist that although it felt reckless, I was going to take the risk and keep putting myself out there. She asked me how it was a risk, and I mentioned all the things that happened. But she pointed out all the good that’s come from it, how much I’ve changed in the two months I’ve known her, how much happier I am, how much stronger.
And she was right. I am nothing like that person, now. I have found a way to learn to love myself. I enjoy my own company. I’m not insecure when I look in the mirror, or when I’m in mixed company. I’m not just “good enough”.
I am whole.
Veronica had done it before and knew just what to say… or how little to say.
ARE WE NOT GOING TO DISCUSS HOW SHE FOLDED HER HIJABS TO LOOK LIKE THE HAIR OF THE CHARACTER, THAT IS SUCH A LOVELY AND GREAT IDEA. OHMYGOD
It always makes me feel special when I talk to the therapist and we laugh at ourselves, or when we go over time and she doesn’t rush to get off the phone. I feel like we’re just good friends, except she’s trained on how to give guidance and she doesn’t ask anything in return.
It’s especially cool that because we do sessions on the phone, I can text her at 9 at night when I’m feeling overwhelmed and say “When’s the next time you’re free?” I would never call an office for that. I’m just really, really glad I sought help, and that I lucked out with a good therapist.
i am just very uncomfortable with the way i am perceived like there’s a disconnect between my actual identity and the identity ppl assume i have and it makes me uncomfortable and stressed out
ALICE ROOSEVELT WAS HARDCORE. “She was known as a rule-breaker in an era when women were under great pressure to conform. The American public noticed many of her exploits. She smoked cigarettes in public, swore at officials, rode in cars with men, stayed out late partying, kept a pet snake named Emily Spinach (Emily as in her spinster aunt and Spinach for its green color) in the White House, and was seen placing bets with a bookie.
Was the entire Roosevelt family bad ass bosses?
"Emily Spinach" laughing forever I love it
u readin this?
u a princess.
i dont care if youre a goddamn bodybuilder, ur now princess protein
Delete her number.
Stop ringing her. Stop messaging her. Stop making excuses to see her, to drop by her place.
Erase her name from memory. Remove yourself from her life, more completely than you would like but as completely as she deserves. Move on, so that you can allow her to also move on. When you close your eyes, you don’t get to see her face. Not anymore. You don’t get to think about her lips, the warm glow of her skin when she rests next to you, or how she squeezes your hand in her sleep. You are not allowed to remember the smell of her perfume, that she only drinks mint tea (with two dollops of honey), or that she loves you.
She loves you.
She has been in love with you for too long.
So, forget how she says your name. Forget how she calls your name. Forget how she screams your name. Forget that time you got sick and she stayed up with you all night, letting you lay your head in her lap and holding a cold compress to your forehead. Forget how her hair feels in your fingers. Forget how she looks in your sweatshirts.
Know only that she existed at one point in your life, but relinquish all hope that she could exist at another point — sometime in the future that you are unwilling to specify because you don’t know what you want. Yet. It is not fair for you to swoop in and out of her life as you choose. It is not fair for you to say that you are satisfied with “things as they are” and you will have time to “figure it out” later. Let her stop investing emotionally in you. Let her pour that love and care into the people who deserve her.
Don’t tell her that you think about her all the time. Don’t tell her that it bothers you to hear about her with other people, but that you’re willing to understand as long as she likes you more than them. Don’t tell her that this isn’t the right moment but that there will be a right moment. There is not going to be a right moment. She shouldn’t have to wait for the right moment.
Don’t tell her that you can’t handle ultimatums, that you don’t like the idea of finally adding finality to your relationship — whatever still remains of it.
What you are telling her is that you want to keep her on as an option, that you are taking her for granted, that you want to know she will be there, that you can depend on her at the end of the day. When you find that no one else has stuck around or that those who have are less interesting, less thoughtful, or less doggedly loyal to you.
Doggedly loyal to you.
That is what she has been to you, for you almost as long as you have known her: a constant emotional crutch, the guarantee of stability, a safety net while you reachvout to grasp objects that sparkle and shine far greater than she does. All that glitters is not gold, haven’t you heard?
She is fire. You are ice, and you are afraid that her slow burn will smolder your cool, hard demeanor. That’s what has driven your decisions, your actions all along: fear. You are a coward. You are a hypocrite. You are terrified to let her go, but you are afraid she is too good for you, that she could drive you wild, that you would choke on her flames. That she is too much for you to handle right now.
But if you choose not to love her now, you can’t choose to love her later.