Unapologetically Me

So it's my birth date once again - I'm 21.

I've been alive for over two decades.

I've experienced so much.

I've been had sadness as my standard state for so long.

My 21st year was difficult. It was the scariest year I've ever been through. I didn't know where I stood with anyone. I thought I'd fallen apart too much. That 2 decades of guilt would become too much.

And the last few weeks have been especially hard. In waiting for my least favorite days, I truly hated September this time. I kinda regretted letting it happen.

Not anymore. I've spent a few hours looking back on the year and I'm proud of myself. I am almost done with school. I scheduled a driving appointment. I regularly attend my various medical/mental appointments. I don't hide out in my room the amount that comes naturally. I force myself out and to grow. I was myself, unapologetically.

I've adopted parents from media. I've made friends from times past. I've found even more things that matter to me, more that interest me, more to do in the future. I'm sure that I'll be here for many more September 28th. I doubt I'll treat them as I did as a child and adolescent. I no longer desire missing the month of September. 

Wow, I'm not an adolescent anymore. I am at the age that universally, physically, scientifically, philosophically can't be denied as adulthood. I'm leaving one club behind and am going the older, responsible group. While I hope never to have children of my own, I hope as a member of the second group I can guide the young club.

I look forward to my 22nd year. And all the changes that shall so be coming with them. Being in charge of myself is much different than raising yourself with no plan or advice. I'll keep you in the loop. I'll share the progresses that allow the woman I've always wanted to be, to have space and feel free to challenge me. Purple Owl will be changing shades throughout the year. But always a type of Purple for confidence and lock on identity.

Autism In Love

Disclaimer: this movie included some language and phrases I didn't appreciate. But it was just too moving not to share. Also, spoilers!

I didn't know what I was going to get with this documentary. I came away from it caring for all the subjects. I even felt like three were my close friends while a fourth was myself.

The Subjects:
Lenny (Leonard) - raised by a single mother, currently lives with mother & stepfather.
Dave - parents were not in the video. He has a scientific geared mind.
Lindsey - father was interviewed. She leans toward creativity.
Stephen - oldest of the group. He lives independent of his parents.

Lifestyle:
Lenny graduated high school a while back and does not have a job. He spends time playing video games, at diners, at the park, and talking to friends.

Dave & Lindsey met at an Autism convention in 2005. They were at 8 years dating when the documentary began. I'm not sure if they live together since Dave mentioned "she tucks me in at night." (That could go either way.) Dave works in physics. I'm not sure about Lindsey but office friendliness seems valued. Her coworker/employer was pleasantly surprised by her social adaptation level.

Stephen works the U.S. Postal Service. He does some kind of systematic work, which sounds relaxing. It seems like he is more interested in the work than the social aspect.

Love Life:
Lenny is single. He has one ex-girlfriend. But she wanted to make things more physical than he was comfortable with. Lenny also has a range of beliefs about romantic relationships that I don't necessarily agree with.
1) A man must have a job - I see the value but it's not a rule breaker to me at the beginning of dating. Courtship though is another matter. And if he loses the job, do they break up?
2) A man must make more money - honestly I'd love for the money to be pouring in and me to never have to move an inch. But I also believe in moderation and not working just for the money. If the man is stressed just to make a dollar more, is it worth it?
3) Women shouldn't pay for anything - while I appreciate the principle there and the natural, inborn desire men have to take care of their own, I don't agree wholeheartedly. Men should be able to pay for most. But to me a grown, adult woman should be able to pay for most, too. My general rule when someone else is paying for me, "if I couldn't afford it, I can't get it." However, the beauty about relationships, romantic or otherwise, is complementing each other. If both want to go out but won't pay the same amount, should the decision be affected by which gender they are?
4) Overall, a deep seated belief of inequality - men crave respect & women crave love. We aren't exactly the same. Those aren't the only things we need though. Men need love & women need respect, just not as intensely on the norm.

At 8 years dating, friends wonder why Dave & Lindsey aren't married yet. I personally don't think it's that long to date for a couple who both have a diagnosis that involves difficulty in developing relationship and communicating. They are so adorable.

Dave gives a beautiful math or science (as if I fully understand it academically) formula for love. L + P + 2T = % of love. L is for looks and physical attraction. But love has to last past those 3 years of lust so next is P for personality. The most important is how they treat you, so 2T. A person who rates high on based on their treatment of you has a better chance than based off of looks and personality alone. This is how Dave knows he is in love with Lindsey. Especially because the feelings have lasted 8 years.

Lindsey says despite not fully understanding each other, they make room for their routines and rigidity. They have been through a lot and their love is proven by remaining together. Lindsey faces love more emotionally than Dave. She knows she's in love with him because she wants to go at a pace comfortable for him even if it's not best for her. Lindsey feels that valuing the other person is love.

Stephen got married in the early 1990s. He lived with his wife, Edith, for 17 years until she was diagnosed with a brain tumor in 2010. She had surgery and has been in a different town recovering since. She has medical ups and downs. Stephen isn't very verbal so I couldn't gather how much he knew about his wife's condition. His mother said he hopes for the best and believes Edith won't die. He remembered all the dates, even what he said when they met. Stephen said he knows he loves her because he cares for her. He wants to kiss, hug her and wished her the best. Awwwww!

Other struggles in the film:
Lenny was obviously suffering from depression. He felt less important than his peers who are in college or have graduated from there and moved on to jobs. He was unhappy with his diagnosis and its affect on his life. Lenny's self esteem very low. As a result of this, at one point he went to a mental hospital due to concerns that he would harm himself.

Lindsey was trying her hardest to be content with what Dave was able to give her. However, she didn't feel assured of his love. They had discussed marriage a few years prior. She pretty much promised her acceptance whenever he was ready to propose. But Dave hadn't been ready before and during the documentary. It increasingly became a topic. Up to the point, that he went ring shopping.

Edith died in 2013. Stephen was asked if he was still in love with her. He said "no. When a person dies, you can't hug or kiss them anymore. So I'm not in love with her." I translated that as the romantic love has ended but he still loves her and treasures the memories. I don't know if that's correct or arrogant of me to assume, but I just don't think he could verbally express it. That doesn't mean he couldn't feel it though, which was the position the concept of the documentary took.

Conclusion:
Lenny has a job at a grocery store. He seemed much more content with his life. I wish we got a closing interview with his mother.

Dave proposed to Lindsey! In a way that was perfectly them! She's teaching him piano and I couldn't have fangirled more.

Stephen is back at work after a few months. His parents said it was good for him to be back to a routine. While he was affected greatly by his wife's death, his ability to talk about her was encouraging. I don't know how long had passed when the interviewer asked. And I don't know if his way of communicating made it seem like he was coping better than he was.

My reaction to the subjects:
I hope Lenny continues to grow in self-esteem. Like his mother said, he's awesome. He just needs to realize it. I hope he learns that relationships, romantic or not, don't have to follow a rule book. That it's okay to write your own story.

Lindsey felt like a future me. She knows that she is struggling. But she faces it head on, bravely. And when she mentioned necklaces make her feel protected, like she has a barrier between her and the world, I realized that's how I feel about accessories, hair, and makeup. I'll give people something to talk about as long as it's superficial and not something that I'm self-conscious about.

Dave was amazing. I don't get science and math, probably because I tell myself that. But I could almost always understand him. I appreciated how blunt he is. I know that's a characteristic of the diagnosis but it felt like it was more of a characteristic of his, regardless of ASD. Excepting Lindsey, I feel like everyone always knows where they stand with him.

Stephen is how I wish I could be. He spoke when people are "supposed to". He can hold a conversation. He can convey his feelings partially and those who love him fill in the rest. I'm sure he has had difficulties in his life especially in the "olden days of heightened prejudice" and while dating. But as much as we can say that being unable to share your thoughts and feelings is a bad thing, there's a slight plus. No matter how much people push, they're only going to get so much out of you. With a person on the Autism Spectrum, any more gained is an indescribable joy. But as someone who can't stop talking, even when my thoughts and feelings really don't need to be shared, I'm slightly envious. The grass is always greener on the other side.

S.I. Confessions Part 4

How?
How do I go from high up to falling down?

Why?
Why can't I speak when people are around?

When?
When will I be able to see more than me?

Who?
Who do I even want to be?

Where?
Where will I find my safe place?

What?
What can I do to enjoy taking up space?

Eras

Throw Back Thursday

Mom Era: 0 - 8 years old

This was a stressful era. Mom was sick. I was sick.

But the leader of the era was always around. She explained things to me. Things most people wouldn't think to explain to a child. Things most people would think was beyond a child. Things most people would think damaging for a child.

I couldnt tell her my secrets. I didn't want to upset her with my worries. Somehow, she seemed to know them anyway.

Mom held my hand as I had my MRI.

Aunt Era: 8 - 13 years old

This was a quiet era. It built underground and erupted suddenly towards the end.

The leader wasn't always available. She was tired from working and caring for us. She was busy. She was overwhelmed.

I fought her over my secrets. I wanted her to worry over them. I wanted them to matter. I wanted to matter.

She loved me through the worst times.

Blue Era: 14 - 16 years old

This was a quick era. It took longer to adjust to than it actually lasted. It shocked me when it ended.

The leader was unsure. He had a lot of concerns. He was in charge of so many people's happiness. He didn't talk to me as much as he had during the other eras.

I denied him my secrets. I denied access into the pieces the eras had created. I didn't want him to know about the scars I'd gained while he wasn't the leader.

He asked for a blanket when I was cold during my MRI.

Lost Era: 16 - 20 years old

This was a random era. Nothing was set in stone. No goal seemed within reach, even just getting through.

The leader didn't exist. There was nothing to lead. Life just passed by. School, friends, entertainment on and on without a plan. And even when it did gain a plan, the approach was haphazard.

I ran away from my secrets. I forgot they existed. When their whispers grew to shouts, I ignored the pain. I ignored them and so they controlled me.

It was the darkest era.

Purple Era: 20 years old

This era is open. It doesn't have many things written yet. The things it has are mostly bad.

The leader is me. I'm finally at the helm. I don't know how to grow up. I doubt I ever will achieve the level I had hoped for. I have confidence that this era will last for quite some time.

I'm slowly remembering my secrets. I'm facing them head on. They are just facts or thoughts. I am the person whose life depends on continuing the fight.

I couldn't ask for a blanket. I couldn't squeeze comfort into my hands. I did, however, prepare for the shot. I prepared for the potential anxiety attack. I prepared for the loneliness and longing. I cheered on and supported my physically and mentally weak state. I got through my MRI on my own.

P.S. I'm going to attempt blogging all week. I had my last day of work today and decided to write on the topic that's been on my mind since Friday.

Unique-ly in the Way?

I thought I finally knew who I was and how I fit in my world. However, I don't.

I'm pretty sure who I am. I don't change very much. Never have. And while I don't always know the right words to describe it all, I can feel the truth. But I don't fit where I had begun to suspect I did.

I try to help. Then, I find out that people don't see it like that. My help is denied or incorrect. My help actually spurs multiple new routes people have to take around me.

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I take personality and mental disorder quizzes in my spare time. My personality is locked and I like who I am. But how do other people process me? What does the test have to say about the way I think?

I have a high chance of bipolar - that makes sense considering my bipolar II diagnosis.

I have a high chance of food addiction/detachment - that makes sense considering I starve myself out of disinterest and disgust.

I have a high chance of depression - that makes sense considering my chronic depression diagnosis.

I have a high chance of PTSD - that makes sense considering my parents messy divorce and my mom's slow decay of 4 years.

I have a high chance of anxiety - that makes sense considering my generalized anxiety disorder.

I have a high chance of insomnia - that makes sense considering without medication I only sleep eventually and I wake up from anxiety nightmares tired every morning.

I have a high chance of social anxiety - that makes sense considering how much people scare me and my GAD.

I have a high chance of cell phone/Internet/TV addiction - that makes sense considering being without a screen or worse a connection have entered my nightmares.

I have a high chance of being suicidal - that makes sense considering how many suicidal ideations I have in a week.

I have a medium chance of autism spectrum disorder - that makes sense considering how much human interaction confuses and frustrates me.

I have a medium chance of every personality disorder there is - that makes sense considering I hate being with people, I dwell on myself all the time, and I do random things I don't even plan.

I have a medium chance of ADHD - that makes sense considering how many tabs my brain as open in any given moment but also considering how unwilling I am to move.

I have a medium chance of chocolate addiction - that makes sense considering I never forget about chocolate but sometimes I forget it interest me.

I have a medium chance of ED - that makes sense considering I have an unhealthy relationship with food, I dislike all thighs but had an affectionate acceptance of my body for 18.5 years until my hatred of food and chewing took the better of me.

I have a medium chance of depersonalization disorder - that makes sense considering how far away my body feels at times.

I have a low chance of BPD - that makes sense considering my bipolar II diagnosis. It's possible to have both but I most likely don't.

I have a low chance of anger - that makes sense considering I accept people's negative emotions as my fault and never theirs.

I have a low chance of psychopath & sociopath - that makes sense considering I believe there are 8 billion people higher than me, including possible unfeeling people.

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So why do I open a bunch of these stupid, unpredictable tests at 5 am and take them over the course of 3 weeks? Why do I rehash the results on a long blog entry starting at 23:30 - 1:00 am on a night have I haven't taken my sleep aid and need to up early for an intense day?

Because they remind me of what I already know. They remind me of the person I am and love, even when others make me doubt myself. While the list may make it seem like I have some incredible life ruining flaws, it highlights the ones I couldn't stomach having. What's a little depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, suicide when compared to psychopath, anger, depersonalization?

I don't fit nicely in my world. I never have. I've been in the way since I was less than 1 year old. I'll continue to upset the lives of people I love and my own.

But I know who I am. I know I'll get in the way in new and exciting ways. I know that I'll run away to fictional worlds because they don't question what makes me who I am and label it as wrong.

I don't mind being unsure of how my medical team will help with with all my needs. Being unsure if I want the help, especially when I'm not doing my best to assist their assistance. Being unable to face all the things I need to at once: my deep-seated fear of driving, my knee pains, my back spasms, my lack of excerise, my lack of appetite, my possible neurological problems that cause seizures at the random age of 20, my increasing depression, my increasing anxiety, and weakening control and mental strength. I don't mind any of those things.

I don't mind as long as I continue to be sure of who I am. Even if I dislike being unique, different, special, left out. Because those things don't matter as long as I can accept myself.

My unique-ly in the way self. I am after all a work of art.

P.S. this was a major rant and didn't really have a point at the beginning. I do feel much better though.

Snapshot of Purple Owl - 9/28/15

1) I love myself the most. I hate myself the most.
2) I had two invisible identical sisters when I was under 13. I knew they weren't real and I only thought of them when I was bored. I invented "Pink" at 4 y/o. "Periwinkle" was created at 7 y/o because "Pink's" personality wasn't for me anymore. I gave up on them when I was 9 y/o and reading all the time. The only time we all interacted was when I remembered them at 13. I did a craft project with my mirror sisters and their input. I showed them my new room and my organization system. I disliked being the 5th child. I disliked being without a partner. But it was my first attempt at creating characters so they are a fond memory.
3) Disorders:
Chronic Depression
Insomnia
Generalized Anxiety, Panic and Social Anxiety
4) Self Diagnosed:
ARFID
Nightmare Disorder
Cireadian Rhythm Sleep-Wake Disorder (desired sleep times 2-5 am & 2-5 pm)
Separation Anxiety Disorder (I hate being away from people I've deemed "safe")
5) Poser, Rebel, Determined to be Different:
Names hurt. And I wish I knew how to be "common." ... Well, not really. But it would be easier.
6) I get attached to people, places, and objects incredibly too fast. (Give me all the nouns. Lol)
7) I'm still afraid of driving.
8) There's an employee at my local Jack in the Box (fave fast food) who knows I order chocolate sauce in my root beer float. And I don't know if that makes me ashamed or proud. For now, proud.
9) Strange habits:
Fries in milkshakes (common right?)
Hot cheetos in icing
Chips in yogurt
Meat/Tomato Sauce over Steamed Broccoli
Apple & Cashews (like a Candy Apple, yum)
I can't go anywhere without an undershirt.
I always put the heaviest bag on my left side.
10) Childish Habits:
Hot milk before bed
Two security blankets - 1 for home, 1 for public
New clothing becomes a comfort for weeks.
New outerwear becomes a security source for months.
11) I love watching adaptations and parodies to see how the writers adjust stories and scenarios to fit their needs.
12) I feel most comfortable with children.
13) I want to write for a living but I don't think I'll ever be confident enough for that. So for now, I want to work with children and write for myself.
14) I love music. My favorite songwriter is Martin Johnson. My favorite voices are Steve Perry, Arnel Pineda, Jon Bon Jovi, Adam Levine, Kim Jonghyun and Lee Jinki. I pretty much love every "boy band" from Beatles to Seventeen.
15) I believe that, no matter what, one's goal should be to make others' day better.
16) 9/27 & 9/29 are my least favorite days.
The 27th reminds me of what I haven't accomplished.
The 29th makes me paranoid that I won't accomplish anything in the coming year and be back to the 27th.
17) Therefore, I determine that it doesn't matter how I feel waking up on the 28th, I will be happy with myself by the end of the day. I spend the day doing as much as I can, of what I need to and want to do. I force myself to think positively all day.
18) This is my last year as a late adolescent.
19) I dislike getting close to people. When I feel our relationship becoming stronger, I get scared. I'm afraid that I won't be someone they want. That my people will dislike who I really am. And that they'll all change their minds.
20) I hate myself the most. I love myself the most.

*21. This year reinforced my belief that the hardest and best thing is to be yourself. It was difficult to see myself through the disorders, medication, injuries, and obstacles. But I did. The most clearly I saw was 9/27 & 9/28. 19 year old Purple Owl, you were beautiful, inside and out. Let's see where my 21st year takes me.

Brumous

It's been dreary lately. It's June. And the weather can't make up its mind. It was over 100 on Monday and then it was drizzling on Tuesday.

The weather isn't doing anything for my mood. I haven't been sleeping well because, as always, I'm afraid of my dreams. I don't want to eat or leave the house. I want to lay in bed and watch tv.

I'm taking a break from therapy because I started working this week. I know my medication is a good fit. I know my cycle will affect my mood. But I really need a upturn.

I hope a change of weather will help.

P.S. I'll probably be complaining of heat in a couple weeks but sometimes the wish is too overpowering.

Throw Back Thursday

I've always been conflicted about school. I love learning and being around peers. But I was stressed about being assessed by teachers and tests. I was also stressed about my classmates and their problems.

I missed a lot of school because stress made me sick. I went to work and college classes with my adult family. Just to avoid school.

TBT:
I remember one time my oldest brother was going to take my sisters and I to school. I locked the door to my bedroom and put my hands behind me on the rungs of my bed. I figure if he couldn't get me, I wouldn't go to school. I don't remember what was that day's pain but he wasn't buying any aches. I don't know why I didn't want to go. And I felt bad for disobeying. But I couldn't see another way.

My brother took off the door knob. I begged him to let me stay home or go with him. But he said no to both. With our 17 year difference, it wasn't that hard for him to pick me up. I went to school. And just sat. I wasn't able to stay away from school but I could mentally remove myself.

Now that I'm older I realize how terrifying it would be to have an elementary student lock themselves in   room. Especially when they're clearly distraught.

I think I still do that sometimes. I get ill from stress. That's a fact. But sometimes I convince myself that I'm worse than I am. If I don't want to go somewhere, suddenly I'm broken. It's like I've mentally locked a door and wrapped my arms around a pillar. And then if I do get myself out, I'm not really there. When I'm shy, I talk too much. When I'm anxious, I don't talk at all.

But I know this now. I understand it more. And that's the first step to improvement.

P.S. I wrote 25,135 words for April Camp NaNoWriMo. It wasn't my first goal but my secondary goal was 25,000. So even if I could change it and win on the website, I'm considering myself a camp veteran now. I can't wait until the next camp

Speak...Now!!!

Oh tell me, tell me
Why it seems
Things that happen
Aren’t taken seriously

Talking is what goes on
No communication at all
Explaining again and again
Never understanding

Say something to me
How should I reply
Or is it really important
You’ll roll right over it

Listening is good
Using your ears is grand
So why does no one do so
Why can’t it be had

When will I be heard
Do I have to scream
Will it matter when it’s worse
How bad until you see

I can’t talk
And so I lose
Lose my trust, my truth
Lose my everything, lose you

Old poem: I want to say 1.5 years ago but it might have been longer.

I've figure out how to talk. I can say at least half of what I mean now. It isn't always enough. But it's more than before. And people are more understanding and wait for the other half.

Hopefully, I won't lose my truth. Or my people.

The Final Verdict

It's been 3 weeks since I last blogged. Honestly, I've been avoiding it. I've been wrapped in my head, telling myself all the things I do wrong.

In "2015 Purple Owl" I wrote a list of things I'm supposed to do at my age but haven't been able to accomplish. So far, I've made quite a dent in that list.

I've: started school, gone out more weekends, and have been getting experience in my chosen field.

However, I'm not happier for reaching these so called requirements. I'm still being pressured to do more. To get my license. To help around the house more.

It's not that I like avoiding these things. It's that these things scare me. Stress me out and make it hard to sleep. I rarely dream anymore without hearing some piece of advice. In my sleep!!!

And it makes me feel like the most horrible person on the planet.

The Charges: Major Flaws

Guilt makes me small
I hate that I was born
Ruined my family's lives
And many, many more

Guilt makes me mean
To the boy I like
Can't make myself happy
Let alone help him to be

Guilt makes me weak
It pressed down on me
I don't want to go on
And on anymore

Guilt makes me strong
It pushes me onward
For all the suffering
How can I alone escape

So is it good or bad
What is the sentence
Am I wrong
Or am I guilty?

- CoJa Brown

I'm not guilty! I don't have to live in guilt anymore. To be motivated by guilt is painful and misleading. It's wrong to lock myself away and lie to other people.

The Sentence: Personal Acceptance

I'm not sure exactly who I am
Does that make me an idiot
There's got to be a way
To find myself

I am lost inside the world
Life feels like it finds you
Not the other way around
I chose not to be molded

When I'm by myself
I'm a little more real and sound
Now I have to figure out
How much of it is true

I need to accept her
I have to show her to the world
Because there's nothing wrong
With her, with me

If I believe that
I will be happy and strong
I will be me
Different will go on

- CoJa Brown

I guess it's okay not to know who you are, especially as a teenanger. I've just been so sure of myself for 18 years that it's upsetting to be otherwise. I just know I'm not who everyone's telling me to be.

So now, I get to find myself. And you get to come with me. I'll put up the blog topic schedule Monday. Tune in for more!!!

P.S. Double dose of poetry because of my unannounced haitus. I don't plan on being gone that long ever again!

My style of Love

I give out pieces of my soul. That's how I love. I attach myself to people without them knowing. I let them have a piece of my heart.

I always thought I gave out the same number of pieces. I thought I loved everyone equally. But I don't. There are people I gave multiple pieces to. Every time I was with them, I'd give them a new piece. It's dangerous giving that much of yourself away.

Old Pieces

It started one summer
We talked
We learned
I loved

I carried the memories
In my heart
A special place
There they stay

I knew not to hope
I knew I was alone
That you didn't
Feel the same

You've carried on
Now I need to as wel
And like that
In a summer it ends

- CoJa Brown

And then I remember random people I've given my heart to. And I'm in pain because we don't talk like we used to. Because we don't laugh like we used to. Because we don't love as we did.

Boom

I'm having a hard time making myself speak!

It's been annoying me the last 2 weeks. I have to convince myself to open my mouth more often than I like. I'm starting to think there really isn't anything wrong with greeting someone and proceeding to stare at them as they talk eternally.

I know that's socially unacceptable. I know I have to speak to have a conversation. But I can't gather my thoughts. But sometimes my mouth doesn't cooperate. But it's painful to connect my thoughts, speak up, speak clearly, and talk.

Does what I have to say even matter that much?

90% of the time someone else says what I was going to say the same way or better. Does the 10% matter?

I've never really wanted to talk. Sharing my thoughts seems like a burden. But it's never been this difficult before. Before I would talk if needed. I would talk endlessly if that’s what the situation called for. Now I can’t find the power to overcome my fear of speaking. Who has this problem at 19? Is it crazy that I want to become a mute?

It scares me.

I wrote this poem a couple years ago.

Boom

Sometimes I feel like a boombox
I don't think of what to say
But play what people want to hear

I feel like a broken boombox
That won’t turn off
Can't be turned down

Boomboxes don't speak
They don’t have a voice
They don't have a choice

Someone has played me
And So I make noise
I am a broken boombox

- CoJa Brown

Previously it was about being the talkative and loud one even though I didn't want to. When I read it now, it grates on my psyche that I ever was that way. Every time I force myself to speak, I feel like I'm getting louder and more obnoxious. But in reality, I'm probably getting quieter and disappearing. It makes me sad. Really sad and scared!

Little Me by Little Mix

I loved the power in Little Mix's first song, "Wings". But this is the song that made me a fan.

◆ She lives in the shadow of a lonely girl

Voice so quiet you don't hear a word,

Always talking but she can't be heard,

You can see there if you catch her eye,

I know she's brave but it's trapped inside,

Scared to talk but she don't know why,

Wish I knew back then

What I know now.

Wish I could somehow

Go back in time and maybe listen to my own advice.

I'd tell her to speak up, tell her to shout out,

Talk a bit louder, be a bit prouder,

Tell her she's beautiful, wonderful,

Everything she doesn't see,

You gotta speak up, you gotta shout out,

And know that right here, right now,

You can be beautiful, wonderful,

Anything you wanna be,

Little me

Yeah, you got a lot of time to act your age,

You can't write a book from a single page,

Hands on the clock only turn one way,

Run too fast and you'll risk it all,

Can't be afraid to take a fall,

Felt so big but she looks so small,

Wish I knew back then

What I know now.

Wish I could somehow

Go back in time and maybe listen to my own advice.

I'd tell her to speak up, tell her to shout out,

Talk a bit louder, be a bit prouder,

Tell her she's beautiful, wonderful,

Everything she doesn't see.

(Know that right here, right now)

You gotta speak up, you gotta shout out,

And know that right here, right now,

You can be beautiful, wonderful,

Anything you wanna be, oh,

Little me ◆

I have so many things I would tell a younger me. The number one is to have more confidence. But that wouldn't do anything so instead I sing this anthemic song for future me:

Tell her to speak up, tell her to shout out,

Talk a bit louder, be a bit prouder,

Tell her she's beautiful, wonderful,

Everything she doesn't see. 

37,288 words. Behind again but I'll will continue.

Grow and Blossom

I hosted a party. This introvert hosted a party! And I was sans family members until halfway through.

It was great. I had fun. I didn’t talk or share as much as I would have liked. But some really cool people got to meet. And I got to know everyone better.

One day, I'll be more social. I'm not ashamed of how shy I am. I just acknowledge a little more confidence would be better.

34,883 words! I only wrote around 400 words today but I was busy. This week, I'll finish strong.