I love the moments in life where things just seem to click. When a song plays, or a conversation happens, or a piece is published – and right there, in that instance, you could practically swear it was meant for you – like the universe somehow aligned to give you the boost, inspiration, or wisdom you needed to carry on. Continue reading
Exactly one year ago, I started writing about my feelings on the internet. And it’s been one of the best, hardest, weirdest, most rewarding things I’ve ever done. Pursuing your passion is always an intense process. But to do so on the internet, in front of- quite literally- millions of people, has been one of the bravest things I’ve ever done.
And I’ve learned a lot along the way. I’ve learned so much about myself, about writing, and about what it takes to go after your dreams. To help me reflect on my journey, here are some of the top lessons I’ve learned since hitting “send” on that very first submission: Continue reading
Whenever I write anything that delves beyond my politically correct, socially acceptable, polished, surface level self, I get a little antsy. Actually, I get a lot antsy. My heartbeat quickens, my hands sweat, and my voice becomes shaky as I reread my thoughts turned into words aloud. And then, two somewhat competing ideas pop into my head simultaneously: 1.) I shouldn’t hit publish on this. 2.) These words need to be shared. And since I don’t know which feeling to believe (or perhaps don’t have the instant guts to follow the second), I call in my support team for courage.
I’ll FaceTime my parents, or phone my sister, or request that my husband look through what I’ve written. I’ll ask them, “is that too much, too heavy, too revealing? Do I sound like someone who needs to see an expert more than I need to be sharing my innermost doubts and struggles on the internet?” They assure me my thoughts are valid, and that more often than not, they’re common. They’re just usually not spoken aloud. They have my back even when I can’t seem to have my own. They believe in the power of my words even when I don’t. Continue reading
Being vulnerable is not fun nor glamorous, because it requires a willingness to expose that which we would rather keep hidden. It leaves us at an increased risk for danger, disappointment and sometimes even regret. Rarely do we choose to succumb to vulnerability, but often we are forced into it through circumstance.
Why do we do it? Why do we put ourselves out there? Why bother? The answer is because vulnerability is crucial for personal growth and is key to living a purposeful life.
My first real experience being truly vulnerable came this year. Continue reading
By Cece Flores
For as long as I can remember, Last Christmas has been my favourite Christmas song (yes it’s a Christmas song, that’s not up for debate because the word is right in the title). I don’t know what to tell you, I’m extremely emo and love a good falsetto. But more than just for the fact that it’s a poignant ballad about a holiday that always makes me feel alone, it meant a lot to me because George Michael wrote it.
I put myself onto George Michael after watching him perform Somebody To Love at a tribute concert for Freddie Mercury, my hero. I remember sitting there in complete awe hearing him crush those vocals, something I was sure no one was going to be able to do. That performance was only the beginning of my love and appreciation for George. Continue reading
I am a 39 year old intern.
It’s not a label I would have used. But this Christmas over a heartfelt walk with my father he named it, I was doing a year of internship.
As we walked around my sister’s farm catching up on my visit home, I sheepishly tried to excuse my lack of perceived career direction and explain how I filled my days that produced no pay check. I felt shame and guilt as I tried to articulate following my passions. My father simply looked at me and said, “you’re doing a year of internship”. Continue reading
By Kate Kole
I’m Kate and I’m a recovering emotional bottler. I’ve been known to say “I’m fine” when I’m really not fine at all and I prefer long walks on the beach over long conversations about deep rooted feelings that require prefaces like, “I know that I’m being crazy, but…” and “Please don’t judge me.” That being said, I use the word recovering, because I’m trying to sift my way through some of those old bottled feelings so I don’t eventually explode into a major meltdown. Continue reading
You might not know this, but there’s a crazy woman living in my head.
The crazy woman wants to control everything. She wants everything in neat little boxes. She wants a to-do list. She wants six calendars that all sync to one device. She wants clean floors and manicured nails and crisp clean lines. The crazy woman wants perfection. Continue reading
I had a really good childhood. My parents were loving and supportive. My sister was nurturing. My brother was overprotective. And for all those reasons, I often felt happy.
I was sheltered in the best way possible, by my Iowa hometown, my close-knit family, and my loyal friends. So, feelings of sadness, shame, and loneliness came in short lived spurts. Continue reading