I realized that I don’t want to be unique. No, I don’t mean that I want to conform or mindlessly obey orders. But I don’t care enough to become the “best of the best” either. I think it’s clear that my generation live in a social norm where it is important to reach above and beyond for everything. We come from a time where we were told how special we were, and overall, there’s nothing wrong with embracing individuality. However, I think it gave some of us a fear. A fear to fail or a fear of not being “special enough”. If we didn’t join X amount of extracurricular, volunteer for such-and-such charity and get outstanding marks in school, well then shit what have you’ve been doing all your life? I can’t speak on behalf of everyone my age, so this is based on my life. I feel this pressure on a daily basis. It’s both an internal and external pressure. Internally, I regularly compare my life to other people’s accomplishments (i.e. social media). Externally, people are always telling me what I should be doing in order to succeed. All the time I hear how important it is to be original, innovative, and stand out. But rarely, do I ever hear people telling me to let myself be average. In fact, when I express this opinion, most people don’t agree with me. Take my parents for instance. When I tell them that I’m okay with living a simple life, they look at me in confusion. Then they just spend the next car ride giving me a million reasons why I’m going to be the next CEO. It frustrates me how misunderstood I feel. I understand that people mean well when they encourage me to be exceptional, but being exceptional isn’t what I want. I want to remember my life based on the time I’ve spent with others, and the relationships I’ve built, not the accomplishments I’ve made or the mountains I’ve moved. In short, a lot of what I really want probably won’t come from accomplishments. I’ve realized that being the best at whatever it is isn’t going to make me happy. I do always try to be my best, but I’m fine with keeping my life simple. Anyhow, I could be wrong, but the way I see it, I could use a simple life.
A/N: Whoa, another story? Yup, I’ve been feeling pretty down today so I wanted to write my pain away. I can’t say if this is a regular thing or not. Just that I can’t let myself feel so down all the time. Plus, I need to keep writing if I want to get any better at it. Anyhow, here’s another-but unrelated to the previous-short story. With this one, I just shot out the first sentence in my head and carried on with what to write next. I got pretty far with this one. I kinda like the idea I created too.
Some magical drabble
“It’s not uncommon to feel scared. Especially if it’s your first time.” Jordan smirks and raises her eyebrows. While offering a fake look of sympathy she pats Gabrielle on the shoulders. Gabrielle snatches her shoulder back and gives a defiant look to her elder.
“I never said I was afraid!” she scoffs. Gabrielle shakes back her blonde hair and crosses her arms. She continues, “I’m just amazed that someone like you would even consider this to be scary. Have something to hide there? I mean just because you were scared, doesn’t mean everyone else would be.” Gabrielle turns to face the rest of the coven as they snicker behind Jordan’s back. Jordan’s face falls flat when she overhears Molly whisper something to her elder. She straightens her posture, and purses her lips. Determined not to show any weakness to the rest of the group.
“I’m just trying to look out for you.” She retorts
Gabrielle resists the urge to roll her eyes, “Riiight. Just like how you left me in the mountains last week. How could you look out for me when you were all the way at the bottom of the mountain!” Jordan opens her mouth to respond when Miss Karen waves her hand at Jordan and silences her.
“Whenever you’re ready Gabrielle.” She offers a sweet and encouraging smile.
Gabrielle walks straight to the pot and grabs the knife. While muttering an incantation she firmly grips the dagger in front of her and slashes her hand while watching the blood pool around her cut and slowly trickle down into the simmering pot of potion. She peers down to watch the potion slowly transform from blue with a faint fragrance of lavender and berries to a vibrant shade of purple and a subtle hint of a metallic smell. The potion begins to radiate a soft glow; Gabrielle pulls her hand away from the pot and turns off the burner. Without any hesitation, she blows on her cut hand and watch the skin reattach. With a satisfied smile, she pours the potion into a vile to present to the coven.
She turns her attention to the coven to find everyone gaping at her. Gabrielle’s eyes widen and she frowns.
“What? Did I do it wrong?” She grips the vile closer to her chest.
Miss Karen steps forward. “No sweetheart. It wasn’t that. It’s just…” She pauses, wondering how to word it to Gabrielle.
“How’d you do that without reading the book!” Molly interrupts.
“Yeah, first years can’t complete that without even a glance at the book.” Another girl adds. Almost all at once, everyone starts muttering and throwing one question after another.
“Did she cheat?”
“No you dimwit, you can’t cheat a potion! She must be possessed.”
“I don’t hear a hum! A telepath must be telling her what to do.”
“Who would want to do that? Besides, only Jordan can do that.”
Everyone’s attention turns to Jordan who’s still trying to process what she’s seen. Miss Karen turns to Jordan and asks, “Jordan, did you help Gabrielle with the potion?” Jordan’s eyes widen and she stands defensively.
“No! Why would I want to help her?”
Molly frowns. “You did say you were looking after her.” The coven almost nods in unison.
Jordan shakes her head. “I wasn’t going to cheat for her. Maybe give her a pep talk but not tell her what to do.” She snaps. “Miss Karen, you know I wouldn’t do that. I’m a hard working student and cheating would tarnish my reputation.”
Miss Karen nods her head. “I know Jordan, I trust you.” She reassures her. Miss Karen turns to Gabrielle. “But how did you know what to do Gabrielle?”
Gabrielle’s heart races and her ears burn when she finds everyone’s attention facing her. She begins speaking so fast, she can barely think about what she’s saying. “I-it just came to me. Like I knew what I had to say. I didn’t really give it much thought. I’m sorry, I didn’t know that would be a problem.” She winces, waiting for Miss Karen to scold her or worse, send her away. Gabrielle can feel pulses of fear emitting from some of the witches. Who could possibly want a witch with such a freakish ability? She glances at the younger witches and sees them bunching up closer to one another, ready to flee if needed.
“You’re not in trouble Gabrielle and we wouldn’t expel someone with an ability like yours.” Miss Karen answers. “We teach lots of girls with different abilities, and yours is no different. It’s, unusual, but not different from what we’ve seen. I’ll have a word with the committee and see if we can modify the exam for you.” Before Gabrielle could thank her, she darts out of the tent.
The tension in the tent immediately diffuses when Illiana breaks away from the group and faces Jordan. She laughs. “Well, look who’s the elder now Jordy! It’s her first test and Gabrielle’s already surpassed you.” She sneers. “She really knocked you into your place. It’s comical when you think of it.” She turns her attention to Gabrielle and claps. “I applaud you, newbie. Really, it’s about time someone stops Jordan dead in her tracks.”
The rest of the coven explodes with noise and everyone immediately begins muttering to one another.
Gabrielle winces and fidgets nervously with her vile. She really wishes everyone would stop talking about her. She peers over to Jordan to find her clenching her teeth and scowling at her classmate Illiana.
Why can’t we get along like Molly does with her elder? She asks herself.
Immediately, Jordan shoots her gaze to Gabrielle and throws a cold stare.
You know why! She mentally hisses a fiery response to her sister.
A/N: I just wrote this (like five minutes ago). Usually when I have to go back to school, I panic and start feeling depressed/anxiety. Anyway, this panic attack isn’t anything new and usually I just ride it out and let it pass. Today though, I did something different. I wrote down what I was feeling and wrote a fantasy solution. Here it is. My solution! As you can see, I made up a name but I was thinking of myself while writing this piece. I don’t think this is going anywhere so I thought I would share it here and let someone else (other than me) see it. I hope you like it. I felt better after writing this. 🙂
If I could run away
Naomi doesn’t remember when she got back. It didn’t matter anyhow. Her mind was on one thing alone. Leaving. Leaving everything behind. Today she was going to do it with no fear or regret. She packs her bags with confidence and poise (if that was ever possible). She folds her t-shirts like they’re made of a powerful armor. Her pen is her sword and her books are her shields. She places them in the suitcase knowing that they will not fail her. She slips on her boots with the understanding that they will stand strong no matter what terrain she treads. Naomi walks over to her door and unhooks her jacket. She holds it in front of herself and looks at it like it is something she’s never seen before. She purses her lips and winces at it. This jacket doesn’t suit her anymore. It’s a puffy black winter jacket. It’s warm, soft but ironically impractical. It represents a life she doesn’t want to live anymore. It speaks of a life with safety and repetition.
She throws the jacket on the ground and goes downstairs to the basement. After ruffling through several piles of clothes in her storage closet, she’s found it. To most, it looks costume-y and something nobody today would dare to wear in public. At one point, Naomi felt the same way of the garment. She bought it on a whim at an art sale one day and wears it only to conventions, role-play games or costume parties. It didn’t have any meaning to her at the time. It was just a costume. Another piece of fabric to layer over and pretend to be something you don’t have the balls to truly embody. At this moment, Naomi doesn’t see it that way anymore. It’s the perfect fit. It’s a dark green cloak that reaches the middle of her calves and a sparkling emerald gem decorates the clasp of the cloak. She swings it around her shoulders and fastens the clasp. Without any hesitation, she faces the mirror and looks at herself. She holds her gaze for a while and takes in every detail of herself. She exhales in relief when she realizes she doesn’t recognize her reflection. She has worn this cloak several times and remembers how it would fit. This time, it feels somewhat different. As if she finally grew into it. Her dark hair perfectly frames the cloak and curls against the wool fabric. Her face appears softer and her frame looks almost taller. She eyes the plastic gem glittering in the reflection. She counts how many times it flashes in the mirror and can’t help but wonder if it’s trying to speak to her. She imagines it is offering words of reassurance.
Yes, this is what you are meant to be. The world you are choosing to walk in promises you will have fulfillment and a sense of purpose. I don’t have to tell you to go follow this instinct, because I know you will take it.
Naomi smiles and quietly thanks the sparkling emerald for its support. She heads up the stairs and grabs her suitcase. Everything feels perfect, just as she imagined it would happen in her head. With her head up high, she opens her front door and steps out without a pause of uncertainty. She doesn’t turn around when she closes the door. There’s nothing left to look at behind her. Naomi holds her pride, looks forward and follows the sunrise. She knows this same sunrise will lead her to the said promise of fulfillment and purpose. Naomi quickens her pace and melts in the air.
Note: Writing on this blog has been difficult for me this past semester. I occasionally have these ideas and then I just…stop. I’m doing my best but I wish I could be more consistent. Well at least I’m not “trying”! Right Yoda?
My anxiety is coming back to the other end of its cycle and starting over. There’s a lot about me that is inconsistent but unfortunately, this isn’t one of them. It’s the same every semester and it happens like clockwork. I just signed up for my classes next semester. I am currently sitting in my living room (yet again) sprouting tears and asking myself why am I doing this? Why am I choosing to go to college if I feel so sad, stressed, irritated every time someone asks me “how’s [insert school name]”?A lot of people are surprised when I am honest about how I feel at school. As if they expect me to talk about how much I love to spend every week of my life reading and studying for tests that prepare me for nothing useful after I graduate.
I hate that I complain so much about school when other people have it much worse than my first world problem life!
I hate that I don’t have a career path I feel passionate enough to pursue in.
I hate having to wipe the tears off my face week after week because I realize the school I’m in is purposefully keeping me from graduating on time.
I hate that every week, the same school gives me another thing to worry about.
As if college isn’t enough to make me want to break down, they remind me I should be putting more of my free time for internships and volunteer work. They remind me if I’m not out there competing with every other college student and clawing my way for an entry level job, then I’m doing it wrong.
The thing is, I know I’m not the only person in school who feels this way. I have had conversations with a good number of people in my school and read enough articles about other people who feel the same way. They all hate what they’re doing. A lot of them admit that most of the classes they are taking are unimportant and unnecessary stress. So why do we do it?
I can’t speak on behalf of everyone but honestly, I only have one reason I’m in school. I don’t want to disappoint people. Yes, the girl who loves to speak her mind, and (if my blog name isn’t obvious enough) proudly represents a house that values creativity and originality is afraid to disappoint everyone if i drop out of college. I can see the look of disappointment on my families face. My aunts and uncles shaking their head and thinking, I knew it, that spoiled rotten girl has never truly suffered. She hasn’t the slightest clue about the real world. All she does is complain and pout but fails to put any of her time to contribute to society. It’s only a matter of time before she mooches off our taxpaying dollars.
Most importantly, my mom (who will officially have a PhD in December), ashamed that she has a Latina/American daughter who falls in the statistic of (roughly) 70% of Hispanic/American women who don’t have a college education. As far as my parents are concerned, I might as well call myself illiterate and uneducated. A young girl like me with no career ambition, no higher level education, and no useful work experience is just another one out of a million undesired job applicants.
All of those 15+ years of both private and public education I’ve put into will mean nothing when I apply for jobs. Whatever I did in grade school, high school and community college will mean absolutely NOTHING when I only have that on a résumé. The first short story I wrote by myself in my lit class wont hold any relevance when looking for a job no matter how proud that paper made me feel. And why should it matter? I’m not special enough to drop out. I’m not Steve Jobs or Bill Gates and I don’t want to be! I don’t have any interest in software development or coding. I’m not born into a family that can give me a “small loan of 1 million dollars” to start a company *cough cough*. I don’t have a big idea or a vision of a new kind of technology that will revolutionize the world.
I’m a just an ordinary, lazy girl.
I just want to feel happy and find something that makes me feel happy. And all (apart from french class) of the classes I have taken don’t make me happy. I feel frustrated, scared, and depressed whenever I am in those lectures. There isn’t really a class I have taken that gives me the “this is what I want to do” feeling.
*Note* Though I do know I want to be fluent in french but that’s not really something I care to put all of my college tuition on. And learning a language is just a fun hobby I can do anytime by myself.
So if I don’t feel that way, why am I still here? Why am I giving my anxiety more fuel to spiral out of control? The classes are only going to get harder and my breakdowns are only going to continue and be harder to control. I wish I had a nice little conclusion to this blog. I wish I had an answer for the readers that can inspire or motivate you all, but I don’t. I’m just as confused as you. Maybe one day I can find someone who will give me the help we are all looking for.
Hello, readers. I’ve been having a bit of a blogging slump and was trying to come up with a new topic. I decided to reflect on anything I did in high school and use that as inspiration but so far, no luck. Typically people always have stories of “that one time in band camp” where they do something that is considered young and dumb. So looking back at my time spent, I have nothing to tell. Overall, I liked my time in High School and I have happy memories, but in terms of experiences my life is mundane at best. I was never invited to parties, never dated or experimented and although I love my small circle of friends, we didn’t do anything wild and crazy together. Which is a shame because I think if we did something so traumatic that forced us to make a blood pact to never repeat what happened, we would be much closer than we are now. (Kidding!)
I wouldn’t even say there is a mystery as to why I had an uneventful youth. To be perfectly honest, my upbringing is partially to blame. As I’ve said in previous blogs, I am very sheltered. Like “Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt” sheltered. If you really want an in depth look about how my life was spent, just watch season 1. Kimmy Schmidt is basically my spirit animal. (and I wear that fact with pride!)
If I wanted to hang out with my friends, my parents needed every bit of information attainable. Who are they? Where are you going? When are you leaving? When will you get back? When will you call us? When will you take a bathroom break? (kidding about that one!) When you are a child of helicopter parents, you know what I am talking about. Talking about leaving the house turns into a stressful event itself that staying home just seems more appealing.
Furthermore, if they didn’t like the sound of what I’m up to then they wouldn’t let me go. I’m not even talking about unreasonable situations, I mean legitimately harmless things I wanted to do. One time when I was sixteen, my parents wouldn’t let me join my friend and her family to Six Flags because they thought I would get an allergic reaction and die at the theme park…I wish that was an exaggeration, but you need to know where I’m coming from.
So whenever I had a chance to go out, I would hold it off because, “what’s one day?” Then one day turned into two days and so on and so forth. Before I knew it, I was already a graduating senior and I did a whole lot of nothing. I felt like I was missing out an important part of my life. I’d be lying to myself if I said it doesn’t bother me now because it does. So then I thought about this and asked myself, “why is this all so important to me?” and I think I figured it out.
I think whenever I think about why I missed out on so much is because I wasn’t given freedom. My parents didn’t give me that trust that you should get in High School. Sure I would spend time with friends, but I always had some sense of paranoia that my feeling of freedom was only temporary. I would worry that my parents would show up any minute and drag me home (because they’ve done that before). Sometimes when I’m in the middle of hanging out with my friends, I would look at the clock and panic about how much time I had left before I had to leave. If I didn’t answer the phone, my mom would harass my friends phones until one of them answered and smirk at me while they tell my mom where I am (which is the same place I told her I would be at).
I understand that high school years aren’t the most important days of your life and thank god it isn’t. Nevertheless, I think there will always still be a part of me that feels a bit salty about it. The silver lining of this blog would have to be that my life doesn’t end at eighteen and there are billions of people who would agree with me. Lots of people, for lot of different reasons never shared the traditional teenager experience. Some teenagers had to grow up at five years old. Others didn’t get a chance to be in high school. So even though I didn’t have an exciting childhood, I’m hoping I can change that. I’m taking small steps every day to let myself be more independent. For instance, a couple weeks ago I went outside for a whole hour and took a walk to the park by myself. Opening this blog was a big step for me. I’m even considering going to the city and spend the whole day alone. Maybe I’ll even go to the beach? Or buy myself a drink at the bar without joining a group of people. These might seem like dumb goals to some, but for me it is a symbolic reminder that I am my own person and I have more control of my life than I think.
This blog idea just popped into my head right now. All day “Once Upon A Dream” has been playing in my head non stop and I figured the best way to help is to write about it! You bet I will be plaguing this page with Disney gifs.
It is no secret to most of the people who know me that I am a Disney addict. I love anything Disney related and it has been that way for as long as I can remember. I have a Frozen themed laptop for crying out loud! I think that proves my level of dedication. There were times as a kid where I would get emotional because I wasn’t in a Disney movie. Oh, you didn’t do that as a kid?
I’ve always been weird, even as a kid. My favorite Disney movies were princess movies. I had my top three princesses I loved the most; Ariel, Belle and Jasmine (back in the day when there were only six). Of course my ultimate favorite was Ariel. I wanted nothing more than to be Ariel. I even used to flop on my bed pretending I was a mermaid. (you are probably the first people I’ve told this to) Wait, you never did that as a kid either? Well shit, you were missing out.
Ariel had the best story of all and I could relate to her the best. She loved to sing, like me. She didn’t like to be told what to do, like the rebellious five year old I was. And we both wanted to marry Prince Eric! The only difference was that I thought she was nuts that she didn’t want to be a mermaid. I mean mermaids didn’t have to go to school, eat school cafeteria food, go to gym class or wear itchy school uniforms! What’s not to love Ariel? I will gladly trade places with you any day, just give me a call. My preferences for Princesses have changed (Rapunzel, what up!) but my love for them is only stronger.
I’m pretty sure a lot of people can relate and shared the same dream, but I grew up wanting nothing more than being a Disney Princess. Why? Most would assume it’s just for the sparkly dress, fancy tiara and prince charming. Well, yeah but there was more to it than the fancy pixie dust. There was something about the Disney dream team that gave me inspiration and ambition. Think about it, if it were all for aesthetic reasons then I would want to be a Barbie doll as well. Not the best argument, but you get the gist.
Set all the dresses and tiaras aside, Disney Princess’ had something I wanted more than anything. Freedom. The freedom to do anything their heart desires. Disney princesses are bold and courageous. They follow their heart and reach their goals. No matter what the obstacle, they are still so sure of themselves. Disney Princesses are leaders and never quit. They all had an adventure and lived in the present. The future was never a worry or struggle for them. Of course I know these are just movies, but each story holds just a little bit of truth to life. After all, these stories were written by people who felt the same inspirations. Otherwise these stories wouldn’t exist.
This post today doesn’t have a particular message or point that needs to be addressed. It’s just something that got me asking myself what exactly is it about Disney that makes me love the movies so much. Anyhow, I may be an adult now but I will forever have the place in my heart to become a Disney Princess. If Disney asked me today if I want to be a princess, I would definitely drop what I am doing, quit my current life and run away to be a part of the exclusive Disney princess clique.
I recently came back from a five day trip to San Francisco and I am by no means a traveling expert. In fact this was the first time I left the state without my parents hovering ( though it could be because I went with my sister and cousin). Nevertheless, I still learned a bit more while on this getaway. It’s nothing life changing, I think I need to be gone longer than five days for that to happen. Anyway here are the things I’ve learned.
1) I hate bus tours!
Or maybe they’re just not for me, but personally I hated having to take the tour bus. I objected taking it the first day we arrived, but…majority rules. It wasn’t all that bad but you really don’t learn a thing about the city and they move at a snails pace. On the other hand, it’s impossible to get a good picture because the bus has to move. The tour guides are rarely informative and the microphones they use are really bad sound quality so I’m slightly irritated trying to figure out what they’re saying without blowing out my ear drums. The buses also take forever to make a full tour around because they take the long routs and have fewer stops than a standard public bus.
2) San Francisco weather is very confusing!
When I first arrived, I was shocked at how windy the city is. Really, I don’t understand why Chicago takes the medal for “the windy city”. Chicago is nothing compared to the wind in San Francisco. The wind generally only happens when you’re near the ocean, but a lot of what you will be doing will be near the ocean. Someone explained it’s because San Francisco gets the wind from Alaska and the wind from the South mixing together to make this everlasting breeze. If you like to wear your hair down, I recommend you wear a bun or ponytail because the wind is very unforgiving and will constantly blow in your face. Also, dress in layers. It doesn’t get that cold (Chicago can be much colder), but it doesn’t get warm enough for say, shorts or dresses. One minute you could be cold and the next minute, you are sweating bullets. It all depends on where your standing. The more away from the ocean you travel, the warmer it will get. Overall, pack a cozy sweater that you can take on and off oh and jeans and/or warm leggings will get you far.
3) You are stronger than you think
I know, the ultimate cliche but believe me, cliches are cliches because for the most part, they are true! Let me explain…
A quick recap about myself. For all of my life, I believed I was a frail girl. Not because I was a girl (obviously) but because I am very small, have a lot of allergies, I have a really sensitive stomach and sports were never fun for me. Whenever we jogged in the park during gym class, I always had to be escorted back due to my allergic reactions. As I got older (and experienced many anaphylactic reactions) I caught on that I am not allergic to nature (except for the common, but not life threatening, hay fever) but the more severe reactions were due to the poisonous chemicals people put in their landscapes. Nevertheless, I was still subconsciously skeptical and avoided doing anything that would put me at risk. The lazy girl I am, I just label myself as “frail” and be done with it…I’m such a fool!
NOTE: So I started explaining this story that gave me this new outlook on my life but realized I need to make a separate blog post about this event. The story is longer than anticipated and I will post a link here that explains the whole story if you are interested.
This trip in the woods really tested my limits and proved to me that I am not as weak or fragile I originally believed myself to be. I wouldn’t say this was the first time I hit this moment of realization though. I have had this small thought in the back of my head that reminded me why my thoughts of myself are wrong, but I never gave myself the chance to prove otherwise.
On another note, This hike really stripped me down and broke apart all the layers I put on for people. If you could see my face, it was as imperfect as I could possibly see myself. Metaphorically and physically all my flaws were shining through. Every last part of me was covered in dirt, sweat and my clothes were a horrific mess. I was vulnerable, but still not weak.
Despite all the pain this hike inflicted on me, it wasn’t the most miserable moment of my life. In fact, it was the opposite. Each step was in a way liberating and I somehow felt a sense of relief. The harder the climb in the forest got for me, the closer I got to knowing just how strong I really was. I admit I broke down several times during this hike, but I didn’t stop moving. With a little help, I chose to keep moving forward and embrace the good and bad I was feeling.
4) You don’t have to do dangerous stuff to live life to the fullest
Movies love to make things appear over the top and send this sort of inaccurate message about living. Think of any movie that follows the story line where someone has so much time to live and needs to live their life to the max. Generally, the protagonist ends up doing weird and crazy stuff like skydiving, cliff diving or bungee jumping. While spending my time in San Francisco, I didn’t really do anything extreme or dangerous. Maybe that trip to the woods, but even I wouldn’t consider it reckless in any way. Enlightening, yes but not dangerous. Nevertheless, I felt like I was closer to life than I have ever been before. It wasn’t because I did anything special, it was because I made my own choices with no worries about the future. I lived every day in the present and for once, the future didn’t scare me.
I learned a lot on this trip to San Francisco, but I would say that these are the four most important things that I’ve reflected on the most while spending my time in the city. I am very lucky and grateful to have the opportunity to travel. I hope I have more chances to travel (hopefully out of the country!) so I could come back here and talk all about it. Thanks for listening. If you want, you are more than welcome to share with me anything you have learned on your past trips.