One Size Fits All

To assume that one size fits all is one of the most foolish things an individual can do. I have seen this apply to all aspects of life, from medicine, to kids playing on a swing set, to college. We have this innate belief that we all work the same way, although we don’t. The fact that we think this way – I believe – is that we are not ignorant so much as simply avoiding the truth and looking the other way.

I have struggled with this all my life. In everything I ever did, as much as I was struggling, I never got help. I went to therapists for many reasons. They made fun of me. Elementary school teachers bullied me. Friends have crossed me off their lists. All because I am different.

I don’t intend to make a sad post, or a post that yells¬†look at me! I am a victim!¬†In fact, it’s quite the opposite. It’s been a while since I posted something, and I had this thought today, so I thought I would write about it.

It can be a cruel world in which we try to fit each other into something that is only unique to us. But if we start to look around, we can begin to understand how different we all are – every single one of us.

If we do that…maybe the world could be a better place.

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Stress is something that is very dangerous, yet we all have it. It is something ingrained so deeply into our humanity that it is part of our very being.

I’ve been feeling immense stress lately, and considering that I have a lot of medical issues, that’s not good.

I try to reduce the stress, but only make it greater. Perhaps stress is one of those things that you need to somewhat ignore in order for it to get better. Not ignore or deny it’s existence, but to ignore the worries that come with it, calming you down and helping you realize that everything your stress is telling you is just not real. Not only is not real, but it oftentimes doesn’t even exist. I find this to be the case many times in my life.

Someone I love, greatly expect, and admire told me something today: there is no such thing as running out of miracles.

I’ve seen that miracles come in abundance, regardless of how many we have had in the past. This is definitely something to keep in mind…

…especially when it feels like the whole world is against us.

Love

If you ask just about anyone what they believe about love, they would probably tell you that there’s nothing better than being loved.

I disagree.

I believe there is nothing better than being the one showering another person with the love I have for them. Perhaps it’s just an individual thing, but I have never felt more joy than when I’m going out of my way to be there for someone, to show them with actions that I love them beyond anything in the world.

Because actions, to me, speak a million times louder than any words ever could. And the love I enjoy giving? Nothing elaborate. Telling that person that I love them, catching them slightly off-guard with a list of things about them that I couldn’t live without, doing small things little getting them things when they can’t do it themselves, be it handing them a water bottle when they are sick or paying for their favorite food when they are well.

Love is not a complicated thing to me. I suppose it is for a lot of people, but if I’m brutally honest? It’s only complicated when we are trying to fit our own desires into a relationship alongside the things we will or even won’t do for that other person. Because in my experience, love is always about sacrificing for that other person; never is it about receiving what we ourselves want.

Someone I deeply respect and admire told me a number of years ago that in order to be ready to commit to the person you love in marriage or another form of permanency, you have to be selfless to put them before yourself. My interpretation of this is to mean that when we put someone before ourselves, they will do the same for us, and thus begins the bond of real and true trust.

When I’m with the person I love the most (haven’t found him yet!), I want to make sure that I instill a sense of trust in our bond, and within him. I want to instill the knowledge and relief that he can rely on me for anything, no matter whether he seriously messed up and doesn’t want to hurt me, or if he needs to talk about something sacred to him that he’s never told anyone. I will never laugh at him. Name calling is not something I know how to do, and quite frankly, I’d rather spend ten years kissing and loving him than the same amount of energy holding a grudge for ten minutes.

Because love is not blind. Love is not self-serving. Love is the way you discover someone, another human being on an intimate level. And in addition to discovering them, love is about discovering yourself, because you will never truly know who you are or what you have in you until you hand over everything to that other person.

That is the essence of life. And that is the definition of love.

Writing

Originally, I never wanted to be a writer. I detested reading, and I wasn’t the least bit interested in learning enough in English class to learn how to write a proper paragraph.

To be honest, I never chose to start writing, I was more forced into it than anything. I had an acquaintance when I was twelve, one I considered my best friend at the time.

Having dealt with much bullying in my life, it wasn’t unusual for others to laugh at me, make fun of me, or make me do something I didn’t want to do. That would be everything that this individual did. She pushed me into reading, even though I hated it. She Manase me write stories, even though I had no interest in the activity.

I thought all of this was normal.

As the years went by and the abuse from this person continued, I set my sights on being an author. A published author. I spent twelve years writing and re-writing a book that I was never satisfied with. Then, one day, this person disappeared. It only came to my attention years later that my mom intervened and forbid her to speak to me or come anywhere near our house.

Thank goodness for wonderful, intuitive mothers.

Years after that, I continued to write, but it was only within the last two months that I discovered the true reason I was writing: to prove that I had worth. To show I was worth something. Then, the second realization came to me. It wasn’t that individual that I was trying to prove this to, I was trying to prove it to myself.

It’s interesting how our minds wrap us in lies and false desires to protect ourselves from the nature of abuse and being bullied.

Now, I love writing. It is a passion of mine. So, I often ask myself: if I had never ran into that person and suffered so many years, would I have never found an actual passion for writing?

I don’t know. All I know is that the past is in the past and that success is the best revenge.

And that’s good enough for me.

Comfortable In Your Own Skin

I’ve often wondered if there are kind men left in the world, or if they’ve died out. The men I’ve met in my life and been around have always been cruel, abusive, tried humiliating me, and some were people I avoided like the plague.

With the wave of feminism that we are seeing here in the US, it has been made acceptable for women to express being upset or disappointed. But of course, with every good thing comes along people who will abuse that thing. I once watched a video over ten minutes long of a woman screaming into the camera about how much she hated that children’s toys for girls were mostly pink. Well, I don’t know about other girls, but I was obsessed with pink as a kid. (Also, I continued watching the video because it was entertaining).

But I’ve noticed that as we have this wave of feminism, nothing is changing for men. In my perspective, that is entirely unfair to men as a whole. Allow me to explain.

Men are not allowed to cry, or they’ll be made fun of by society. Men aren’t allowed to claim they’ve been abused in any way because they must remain ‘strong’. Men are portrayed as animals in all forms of media when in fact, they are human. They have feelings, insecurities, and they care about those around them.

As a woman, I can tell you something from a woman’s perspective. The thing that I find the most appealing in a man is his ability to allow himself to be sensitive. His generous side. They way he will teach his little sister to ride a bike instead of partying with friends.

These are the kind of men I would consider spending my entire life with, never the societal portrayal of men. And the portrayal of men in the media does them as much a disservice as photoshopped fashion magazines do to women. Men shouldn’t have to cater to the expectations of the media around them. I would love to have a long, honest talk with a guy to see how he thinks, what fascinates him, what he loves and what he just can’t stand.

So, to all the men out there: be yourself. Just as we tell women to be comfortable in their own skin, somebody should allow you to do the same. Don’t shy away from being yourself, because a man who is himself is more fascinating, sexy, and attractive to me than any other man in the world.

Lifeline

Sometimes you need a lifeline, and too many of us can’t find one. In our darkest hours and deepest sorrow and despair, we need a life jacket. We need something that will help us stay afloat in the turbulent waters.

If I had not found my lifeline when I did, I would not be alive today. Those who have survived attempts are the strongest people I know. And with that, I’d like to think I’m strong, too.

I hope that I can thank him extensively in person soon. And I know I will.

This is more of a serious post, but I find that writing while in raw emotion is the best way to create breathtaking beauty.

Don’t give up. Find a lifeline. It’s worth it. You will thank yourself later.

Simply Human

I was born with a chronic illness, meaning that I was born sick and that I’m going to have that sickness until I die. There is no cure. But beyond that and because of that, people have treated me differently my whole life.

For as long as I can remember, my self-esteem has been down in the dumps, and I only learned yesterday why this has been the case.

I love to look up quotes, and so I looked up ‘gentleman quotes’ or something like that because I like to see the men out there who still have chivalry and respect. But I came across one quote in particular that nearly brought me to tears. I didn’t see it as a list of things a gentleman should do, but rather a small list of what we should do for each other to treat everyone as a human being. And I realized something.

I have never been treated as a human being.

I have been bullied all my life by teachers, students, friends, therapists, etc. who should have known better. I have always wondered to myself why people don’t treat me as a person, but rather a fragile object that no one wants to go around.

But I realized yesterday and today that I don’t deserve that. I deserve to be treated like the human being that I am. And that is empowering.

So, this was less of a topic and more of a stream of consciousness. Also, a very candid self-reflection. I’ve been doing that a lot lately; reflecting on myself and my life.

Don’t ever let anyone in your life treat you less than the living, breathing human that you are. Because you deserve so much more.

Write On

I’m in love with writing, but sometimes I don’t know what to say. Before I make a post on here, I always say to myself, write your truth. This holds so much meaning to me because, growing up Mute, I never really told the truth. I pretended everything was fine when it wasn’t, and I swore I would never state my feelings. Though that’s a story for another day.

I’m in love with writing, and even though I don’t know what to write, I will write on.

That’s all we can do, isn’t it?

Brain

I have struggled my whole life, trying to figure out who I am. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve begun to realize that perhaps we never truly figure out who we actually are.

We are constantly changing and evolving, because humans are designed to be adaptable. We are designed to adapt to our aging bodies, our changing surroundings, and our ever-shifting social dynamics. It’s in our DNA. So how could we possibly pinpoint exactly who we are when, by the time we think we have gotten right, we’ve changed again?

As humans, we have so much more to us than our looks, the way we talk, the food we eat, or our weight. I’ve struggled with all of these things in my life and I’m only just starting to break free of their grasp.

We are complex being, complex individuals who cannot be summed up by a word or a sentence or a paragraph or everything a novel. Perhaps we are too complicated to ever truly understand ourselves.

Our brains are what have made everything known in this world, and yet we ourselves cannot understand the workings of our own minds.

Does this mean we are simply incapable of reaching such feats, or does it mean that we have a mind that chooses not to recognize what it is capable of?

To me, it’s the latter. We are far too complex to never reach those heights, but in the end, maybe it’s best that we don’t.

Stardust

There are some of us that believe in souls, and some who don’t. I’m one who believes. But what if we humans have more than just a soul? What if we have something so much more uniquely special?

I truly believe that the universe is one big mind, filled with music, dance, art, and more. And no, I’m not talking about a Matrix-like mind. I’m talking about how all of us – every single one of us – are born and created from the same stardust that created our world. Doesn’t that make us unique?

If you go on YouTube, you can find videos that display frequencies of sounds that come from our planets. Our solar system and its planets actually make their own sounds, like an eternal track of music. Saturn’s is my favorite, as it sounds like a ghostly wail lighting up the night. So, let me ask you: if everything in the universe is supposedly inanimate, then how can our planets sing?

I’ll tell you: because nothing is inanimate. Everything in this universe has a mind, a soul, a heart, a spirit. They sing, they think, they move around the blackness in an eternal dance, forever forced together by the pieces of themselves that fit together so uniquely like a puzzle.

Not too long ago, I discovered an article that detailed how scientists are now discovering the ‘shape’ of the known universe. The picture was beyond breathtaking. The galaxies that could seem to be just chaos align together to create brilliant strands of light, pulled up and down in threads of wonder.

So, now I ask you: do you believe the universe is a mind? I do. But not just one mind. I believe that our universe moves, thinks, changes, and has its own soul. Everything moves in a dance, making its own music, emitting the tunes out into the darkness.

And so, if our universe is so incredible, so intricate and filled with thought, then how could we not be as well?

After all, we are made of stardust.