I suppose I should have a skin care routine, and “A Day in the Gym” blog post right up my alley, but I absolutely do not and I hope that’s okay. I’ve always been in love with the idea of blogging. I pretty much grew up creating anthologies in 200 page hard cover books, turning my “assignment note pads” into doodles. poems and explicit novels. In the latter half of high school, I wrote 2 full books filled with characters, plots, plot twists and cliff hangers I seemed to conjure in my head…and before I knew it, it was in complete circulation. It was exhilarating having people read my work, and run up to me and pour their emotions out about these not-so-fictional characters I created. Truth was, every single story I wrote, regardless of name changes, was entirely about my life.
I should’ve known then that blogging would have become a love of mine.
This IS my first blog post so I probably should get the basic details about myself out the way but like all good books, character development is very important.
I’ve spent a way too long of a time trying to put where I was in life in actual words, but here we go– you ever download a new game from the app store? At first you’re running through levels, it’s easy, it’s fun and it’s quite addicting. The more you leveled up, the harder it became. Next thing you knew you were hunched over the edge of your bed stuck at what seemed to be an impossible level…then you eventually stopped trying. That’s where I was in life for a few months, in a limbo of nothing, until I started travelling on my own.
I was back to my normal vibrant, enthusiastic and optimistic self. It was as if I needed to get out of my comfort zone (travelling to cities I knew nothing of in a new country I never freely explored before) to really find myself. I’m usually opposed to cheesy cliches but nothing great EVER happens in your comfort zone. I unlocked this new daring part to myself that I absolutely had fallen in love with. I was wearing my hair out again, I was wearing crop tops and shorts, I was speaking my mind and I was living as if I would die in the next few hours. I grew up constantly being told to “wait until–“, and I gave up opportunities solely because my parents often screamed at me to stop rushing everything but when I was travelling? I felt…unstoppable. I decided what I wanted to do, and where I wanted to go. I decided what opportunities I would take or pass on. I decided if I wanted to hop on a train to Connecticut randomly at midday to surprise a best friend or if sitting at home with a $6 pizza was my kind of day. I was living.
The stories I have about these experiences are still insane to me. I felt like I was in a really good movie that I would probably watch on screen and whisper to my movie partner,
“that would never happen in real life”.
I remember getting ‘home’ after a long day out, plop myself in bed and stare up at the ceiling completely dazzled at the events that unfolded. From losing my job, to state-jumping to different friend’s houses, to Tinder meet ups, crazy roommates and everything in between? It was all very worth it and I wouldn’t change a thing.
I’ll elaborate in the next blog post.