Twenty-One

Twenty-one. My second favorite number. And when there’s favorite numbers, there’s posts that are about to get real.

I’ve always set my expectations too high.

And I think that a lot of times through social media – this blog especially – I wind up putting this image of myself in people’s heads that’s a lot different than what I’m like as a person in real life.

I hope that I don’t come across as this bubbly, over-positive person that thinks she has all the answers. Not that there would be anything wrong with that. More positivity? Sign me right up. It’s just that that’s not who I really am.

I try really hard to be more like that. I want to be a positive person that makes others feel good, not someone who mopes and whines about teeny tiny things that at the end of the day don’t matter at all. I want to be this person who takes advice to heart, someone who practices what they preach.

Sometimes I am. Sometimes I have good days where it’s easy.

But I have a lot of bad days.

I have days where I fail to remind myself that there is always something good in the overwhelming dark, but I write about doing so because I want others to so badly.

I like to make myself believe that nothing’s wrong with me or the situations I’m in. Apparently I belittle my problems… Or at least that’s what I’m told. 😛

That’s really, really not a good thing to do. I’m not saying that complaining 24/7 about every tiny little thing is, because we all know it’s not. But if you want the sad stuff you’re feeling to go away, you have to first admit it’s there. It’s a choice, to want to be happy, I’ve heard it countless times from Shay and Kirstin. And I really do want to be happy. I want it more than anything. I think that I’m working towards that in the wrong way, though, because I don’t always take very good care of myself.

My version of dealing with a problem is sitting on my floor and crying my eyes out while See Through plays on a loop until the ugly thoughts pass. Healthy? Not really, haha. Though it is a good song.

That’s not solving anything. That’s covering the problem up for the moment to deal with later. And you will, too, because it’ll be waiting for you bigger and better than ever.

I think that a step I should be taking is admitting and coming to terms with the fact that the things that are happening are, in fact, happening. Like I said, I don’t want to come across as some Pleasantville know-it-all because that’s not me. It’s really not.

I feel lost, a lot. I have depression and anxiety that I don’t always know how to deal with. It’s like I’ve been given this object, but it’s so heavy I’m struggling to hold it but there’s nowhere else to put it. (I can’t put it on the ground because it’ll ruin the carpet, duh.)

I’m a sad person. And, sometimes because of that, I can be a mean person. I don’t ever intentionally say something rude or hurtful, but it slips on occasion. I’m not really good with words. There are moments where I don’t like the person I am, because she’s not good. She’s selfish because she’s so lost in her thoughts and overwhelmed by them that she can’t see anything else. She snaps at the tiniest thing because she’s not sure how to handle what’s going on in her head.

I’m not trying to make myself sound like a depressing poem. I’m not poetic. I write about different things I go through, sure, but that’s mostly as an outlet or as a way to reach out to people who might be going through the same thing. But if I could have someone take it all away? Oh man, I would. I don’t look at my depression/anxiety as a lifestyle or something to brag about. It’s a burden and I can’t stand it.

It’s really hard to keep friendships because of it, too. I used to be convinced I was riddled with this thing I dubbed the “one-year curse.” It seemed that I couldn’t keep friends with anyone for more than a year, sometimes on the mark. I once had someone tell me that I could hit them with a truck and they’d still be my friend, yet four months later they started to ignore my calls. There was no major falling out, either. It just happened one day.

I get it, honestly. I’m not an excellent person to be friends with. I think my heart is in the right place, but sometimes I feel like I don’t know how to act like a normal human being. And it’s hard. So I understand why it’s difficult to be around me. 

Remember how I said sometimes these thoughts and emotions are like a heavy weight? Have you ever held something super heavy and found it hard to focus on anything else? Talk to anyone else? All you can think about is this stupid thing causing you discomfort and pain and how badly you want to get rid of it. That’s kind of what it’s like for me.

I saw a quote on tumblr the other day that said, “Those who are hardest to love need it the most.” It kinda hit me; one of those things that you read that make you blink and look up from your phone for a second.

I’m not going to be some macho, independent superhuman (at least, not in this post, teehee) and say I don’t need love. I do. I don’t do well on my own, and I don’t like it. Don’t get me wrong, I love those nights where I’m snuggled up in my bed with a cuppa coffee and a good book or a Netflix binge watch (Stranger Things, what’s good), but it isn’t long before I’m wishing someone would go for a drive with me so I don’t have to be stuck in my room by myself. I get scared when I have to do things on my own. That is tough, though, because like I said before, I’m not always at my best.

I’m not saying that you should let people drag you around just because you think they need your love. Maybe they do, but it gets to a point where you’ve got to remember your own health, too. ⭐️
I guess that this whole blog post summed up is… I’m kind of a train wreck sometimes. But I’m always trying to be better, happier, kinder. I really am. I want to be those things with all of my heart. Do I fail? At my weak points, yes. There’s a lot of things I’ve done that I look back on and feel horrible about. There are things I’ve blown out of proportion or not handled in the best way. Not every relationship is perfect, especially at my age, because we’re all trying to figure out what the hell is going on.

So, no, I’m definitely not some innocent victim that gets burned. I’m not happy all of the time. I have really, really sucky days where I don’t take the advice I know I should, and days when I just plain don’t know what to do at all.

But there’s this thing that Scott has said before he started to sing New Year’s Day. He said, “Tomorrow is a new day. You can always start again.” Just because I messed up today doesn’t guarantee the fact that I will tomorrow.

I’m human. I’ve made mistakes. Heaven knows I will again. But I guess all I can do is try my best to be my best. I learn from my mistakes and try to do better next time.

I think that when your life gets really dark, you can be the person that brings forth light. It’s hard, but simply trying never hurts, even if that’s all you can do at times.

I hope I’ll take my own advice for once.

Love you all,

Sofia
P.S: thanks to those who have understood + stuck around

Twenty

Whoa!! I made it to post twenty!!

Thanks for reading, if you have been. I’ve really enjoyed sharing my posts with you, and connecting more to people I hadn’t known very well because of it.

What this post is going to be about is somewhat old news. I’ve talked about this before.

That’s not even surprising at this point, is it? It seems that my blog has become pretty repetitive, because I keep branching off of the same idea.

It’s been a while since I’ve talked about this, though, and I feel like I need to address it. I have a problem, one that’s nothing new. I’ve definitely experienced it before, which is probably why I talk about it so much. 

I keep comparing myself to others.

Which, as I’m sure you know, is a super toxic thing to do. No good comes from it. I know this, yet I’ll get in phases where I continue to do it every day.

I’ve been in one of those phases for a few weeks now. My self-esteem has been really low lately. I actually (dramatically) blacked out my icon for a while (and then the other day I had it as a bee, which I thought was a good time). There were these nagging thoughts in my head, and I was convinced that everyone who saw my selfies was shaking their heads and muttering, “Who is she trying to kid here?” So I just couldn’t bear to keep a picture of myself up, because it got to a point where I was shaking my head and muttering, “Who am I trying to kid here?”

Now, I know that everyone has insecurities. And we all know that they suck. I often let them get the best of me, and after a while of keeping positive and confident I’ll suddenly find myself turning around the mirror in my room because I don’t even want to accidentally glimpse at my reflection.

It’s impossible to escape your reflection, though, and when I see myself, I’ll hear those damn nagging thoughts again. 

I’m too short.

My chest is so flat.

I have no muscle.

My eyes are gross. Bland. Lame.

My acne and blemishes are everywhere. 

My hair never works the way I want it to. 

My smile. Yikes, that is a big one. My teeth are one of the top five things I get embarrassed about.

I’m so weird.

I’m mean.

I’m not a good person.

When these thoughts start to circulate, it’s bad enough. But then I see these beautiful people around me, and it all gets worse.

I’ll never be tall like her. Why can’t I look more like her?

She’s body goals and I’m the opposite. Why can’t I look more like her?

She’s so nice, just naturally. I’m so mean compared to that. Why can’t I be like her, no matter how hard I try?

I’ll never be able to sing like her, I hate my voice, I’m no good. Why can’t I sing like her?

Why can’t I be pretty like her? Why can’t I look that good without makeup like her? Why can’t I be more like her? Why can’t I be somebody else? Why do I have to be me?

It gets consuming, and suddenly I’m doing everything I can to change myself, because I’m not enough for me. And then, since I can’t be enough for me, I feel like I’ll never be enough for anyone.

I can’t stand that I’m spreading all of this negativity, to top it off. I’ve found that for some reason, venting on Twitter helps. To try and keep that crap away from my followers, though, I started a rant account. It’s similar to shouting into an empty void, but that’s really all I need. Just to write it out. To post it somewhere. I guess it makes the thoughts seem valid. But even though I’ve stopped bothering others as much with the self-deprecating tweets, I’m still saying it all. And that’s no good, because you can’t live like that. You can’t compare yourself to others, because you’ll never be happy.

You know why? Because you will never be them, because you are you.

And you know what? That’s wonderful. It honestly, truly is.

Sometimes I forget that, but when I do it’s like a rubber band effect, and I snap back into a more positive attitude. I have this book of positive things, little quotes and notes from people I admire and who have helped me. When I realize that I’m headed down a gross road, I’ll grab the book and read through it. One of my favorite quotes is this:


Yeah, yeah, it’s from Kirstin’s blog, I know, big shocker. But isn’t it some cold hard truth? Perspective is EVERYTHING, and it’s hard to change if I’m constantly sitting in my room, staring at my mirror and writing the things I don’t like about myself with sharpie on my arms and legs. That’s giving in. If you want to feel more confident, have more positivity, you have to choose to want it.

I know that can be hard. Trust me, I know. Sometimes I’ll see myself and think what’s the point? Just because I’m upbeat isn’t going to change anything. I’ll still be who I am, I’ll still be ugly.

But you know what I’ve found to be true in the past? If I surround myself with more people that spread positivity and confidence, I start to absorb some of it. Maybe “absorb” isn’t the best word to describe that, because it sounds like I’m sucking a life force or something, but you get the idea. Changing your perspective means changing the way you see things, including yourself. So by choosing to fight negative thoughts, choosing to fight for a better attitude, you’re taking one step closer to self-acceptance, which is one step closer to self-love.

Bringing myself down is tiring. And it brings others down, which upsets me even more, and by the time the day is over I’m utterly exhausted in the worst possible way.

Loving yourself is a challenge. But is it an impossible one? Absolutely not.

Another quote I love to live by is “all you can be is beautiful little you.”

That one really turned my life around. I was going through all of these hoops and jumping hurdles to try and be someone else, but that was a race I’d never win! It was impossible, because I won’t ever be someone else. All I can be is me, and that’s enough.

We see someone, and we call them beautiful, and I think sometimes we think that just because we don’t have certain attributes that they do that that somehow makes us not beautiful. The parts that are different about us are “ugly.”

I’m sure we’ve all had those moments where you see someone who is labeled beautiful on television, and we wished we could be more like them. But just because those people are beautiful doesn’t mean you aren’t, right? Just because you’re different than them, that doesn’t make you ugly. No sir ree, not in the slightest.

You’ll have days where it won’t feel like it, like you’re enough. I wrote about experiencing that in the beginning of this post. Everyone has their down days, and that’s okay. The key is to not let those down days drag you to a point where you accept those thoughts as true. That can get tricky, though… especially if there are people around you pointing out your flaws.

There’s one last quote I’d like to share. 
It’s from Taylor Swift, and she says it in her 1989 movie:


There might be a moment where someone insults you, or makes you feel like you’re not beautiful, and it’s really easy to let those words wrap around your mind until you believe that they’re true. Suddenly, it’s like you were the one who said them, and now you think that everyone else in the world sees you that way. Then you’re comparing yourself to people we see as “better” than us even more, and you’re trying to alter the person you truly are to make others happy (though we sometimes disguise “others” with “ourselves”).

That is not true.

You do not have to live up to someone’s expectation of you to be beautiful.

Fighting negative thoughts is a constant, never ending battle. It can be exhausting and tough. But it’s better than the pain you’ll feel if you let them win, if you let them make you believe that they’re fact and not just whispers from your brain.

I’m not perfect. But just because I have imperfections doesn’t mean I’m not beautiful.

I think that goes for each and every one of you.

We are all so different from each other. So if we label one single person as beautiful, and we think that being anything but how that person is makes us awful and ugly, we’re going to self-destruct.

Because you can’t be someone else.

You can only be you.

And that is (and always will be) more than enough.

Love you all,

Sofia.

Nineteen

I am guilty of a lot of things.

I’m guilting of not always eating my healthiest, even though I know I should. It’s just so easy to give into a third night of Taco Bell because it sounds so much better than that chicken and green beans waiting for me at home. (C’mon, have you had spicy tostadas?)

I’m guilty of procrastinating. I mean, that homework is still going to be there after I rewatch this episode of One Tree Hill, right?

I’m guilty of taking the blessings I have for granted, no matter how hard I try not to. I’m always wanting something more.

I think one of the biggest things I’m guilty of is being unable to let things go.
Seriously, the smallest things nag at my mind for the longest time. Now, sometimes that’s not so bad. A friend can compliment my eyes and I’ll think about that for days, and then every once in a while at random moments. But if they hurt my feelings… that could hurt for days and days and days.

Isn’t it weird how that works? You could be bombarded with compliments, dozens of nice things, yet whenever one negative thing is said that’s all you can focus on.

I can just see all the men running right now.

I’ll admit it, I’m such a sensitive person. My brain is, like, set on this routine. If someone says something mean or passive-aggressive about me, my mind automatically takes it, processes it, and translates whatever it was into a script about how awful and cruel I am, how no one will ever love me because I’m the evil villain of the story.

My mind’s favorite thing to say to me is that I destroy everything I touch or come near. I chase people away. I become so intolerable that it’s impossible to want to be within a thousand-yard radius of me.

This happens all because I made one person upset or pissed off. Which sucks, because you’re always going to have people that you upset or piss off. You can’t make everyone happy, no matter how hard you try. Is that an excuse to give up trying and be a total jerk to everyone around you? Um, no. Don’t do that. Ultimately, I think by making everyone else unhappy, you can become unhappy yourself.

When I explain this self-attacking predicament to people, some call me sensitive. Some say I’m a baby, that I need to toughen up. I get that. I usually agree with them. Do you know one of the number one reasons people say is at fault for my fear of messing up/thinking I’ll never be loved/getting so upset when someone I don’t really know that well or hasn’t been good to me leaves? It’s the reason people bring up most often, the one I despise hearing.

Daddy issues.

Ick. 

Totally cringe-worthy, right?

But, sometimes I wonder… are they right? Is there some truth to that?

My dad hasn’t been in my life since I was very little. I was pretty much the poster child for waiting on the porch for a dad that never showed. I haven’t even spoken to him in five years, and we didn’t exactly end on what you would call a good note.

Sometimes I’ll be out in public and see a father with their child or children. Getting frozen yogurt, going to the park, making fun out of shopping. Just seeing them together will make me feel some sort of jealousy. How messed up is that? And then I’ll think, shouldn’t I have moved on by now?

I’ll get so annoyed with myself. Yeah, your parent isn’t around. He doesn’t want to be your dad. Blah, blah, poor you. Grow up. Get over it.

But then something like Father’s Day will come around, and I’m back to pitying myself all over again. When I found a picture of my dad and I together, I kept it in a box in my room. It still hurts, and I can’t let it go, no matter how many times I scold myself for it.

So, honestly… Could all that crap be the underlying cause of my problem?

Could the fact that I formed a habit of giving out second chances time and time again as a child for my dad be the reason I continue to do the same damn thing to people who don’t treat me right?

Is my dad the main reason I’m such a pushover?

It’s annoying for me to seriously consider because of that stupid term – daddy issues – but… maybe.

I didn’t know any better as a kid, because my innocent mind was sure my dad loved me and would do anything for his children. I was blind to the truth. Maybe that stayed.

I’m always asking myself why I stay in such toxic relationships, why I can’t let go… Maybe I’m just blind.

But you know what? I think it’ll be okay.

It’s hard to remember at times, but there are good people who stay. They do exist.

And one day, who knows. Maybe I’ll find someone who will prove me wrong, someone I never have to worry about letting go. It won’t be much of a problem anymore, then.

My normal self would tell me I’m getting too lost in a fairytale.

Last August, I went to a Kelly Clarkson concert. Now, I’ll be real… I wasn’t an avid Kelly listener. I went to the concert because Pentatonix was the opening act. (Where’s that picture of me with them where I look super gross and awkward?)

I knew Kelly’s hits, like almost everyone does. I’ve screamed into my hairbrush the lyrics of Since You’ve Been Gone in my room.

There was one song I hadn’t heard before that night, the title song of her album. Piece by Piece. 




She’s sprung countless tears with the single. Some of my own happened that night. She sang it with just her and the piano, so you can really hear the lyrics, and I remember being struck by a few lines in particular…

He never walks away. He never asks for money. He takes care of me. He loves me. Piece by piece, he restored my faith that a man could be kind and a father could stay.

Whoa.

Forget fairytale, I want that.

And maybe it’ll never happen, for me. But the fact that it can happen, that hope isn’t lost… that makes me really happy. I love that.

I’ve really rambled in this post, huh? Sorry about that. I’ve been thinking about this a lot because I’ve been trying to understand why I feel the way I feel and why I do the things I do. Sometimes the answers are hard to see. But when you see them… it almost makes stuff easier to handle.

I hope you find all of your answers.

Love you all,

Sofia

Eighteen

I am so, so tired at this moment. Mentally, emotionally, and physically.

I went on a mini road trip yesterday with my friends to Chicago. That’s about a four and a half hour drive for us, but with detours to get gas and city traffic another thirty minutes was tacked on.

It was really fun though! Our timing got a bit thrown off so we didn’t get to see many of the sights, but we walked a lot. Which doesn’t sound like a party, but the weather was nice and talking was plenty. Just being surrounded by some seriously awesome people made the drive worth it. Those are my favorite kind of moments, being surrounded by people I appreciate and look up to and think so highly of. I love those kind of moments, and I do my best not to take any of them for granted. I’ve said this before but I’ll say it again; I don’t want to ever look back and wish I had hugged someone tighter, laughed a little more, talked to someone I care about again.

We went to see the band Secret Weapons (you can buy their new EP here or stream it on Spotify here… And I suggest you do so, it’s downright amazing), and right before the last song they talked about how there’s a lot of crappy things going on in the world right now, but that we need to be the change we want in the world. That we can’t just dwell, we need to take action and do something.

I really resonated with that. The fact that every time such tragedy strikes all we do is mourn is not enough. Because it keeps happening! It’s like some sick routine – horrible event, day of remembrance, move on, repeat. Catch that last one? Repeat. It keeps happening. And it makes me think that a RIP hashtag on Twitter isn’t doing any justice. There’s nothing wrong with them, of course, I participate in those too, it’s just… not enough.

The fact that when someone talks about a shooting right now we have to clarify which one makes me feel sick. 

At first I thought, well this is what people do when they’re upset. Mourn and move on. Thing is, in situations like these, we’re not moving on. One definition of moving on is “to change your ideas, attitudes, and/or behavior.” The opposite of that is happening, because we’re still stuck in this vicious circle of awfulness. Nothing is changing. 

There are people killing each other.

And that doesn’t make any sense to me. This violence breaks my heart. It’s wrong

The fact that one person could feel the need to take someone else’s life because of their opinions on race, sexuality, etc… It bewilders me. And I don’t think I’ll ever understand it. I don’t want to.

Last night I was told that I should be the change I want to see in the world. It sounds overwhelming, but it can actually be pretty simple when you break it down. Don’t be racist. Don’t spread hate. DO spread love and acceptance and kindness. Do not kill one another.

END THE VIOLENCE.