What I Mean When I Say, “I Feel Fat” 💩

We live in a society where everyone is offended by everything.

Do you ever feel like you can’t say anything without someone taking it the wrong way, putting their spin on it, or straight up telling you what you should be saying instead? I feel this way. It infuriates me.

So let me tell you what happened. The other day I was over a friend’s house and we were drinking vodka and trying on dresses. Because that’s what girls do. And I looked in the mirror and said, “I want to lose ten pounds”.   

All hell broke loose.

In my mind, I thought I was saying: Wow, I look good in this dress! But I see areas I could improve by working out. That’s easy. As a current 8, who the fuck doesn’t want to look like a 10? Who doesn’t want to feel like a badass b*tch?? (now that’s self-improvement!) Hell yeah, I can lose ten pounds and make myself more body-confident in a bikini. Done.

But you can’t say that out loud, because the second you mention the word “fat” you’re the devil or a body shaming bully. How about we blame society for setting and reinforcing these standards? Not to mention, my friend who is saying this is gorgeous and very clearly works out every day. Like, every day.

Maybe I just want to feel good in my own skin, in this world we all live in. If you had a mustache above your lip, would you not wax? Or at least Nair if you don’t want to pay for the wax? But why do we feel so personally attached to fat? It’s fat. It doesn’t make you who you are. If you trim your hair, do you hate yourself?

I had even started to convince myself that I had some mild form of body dysmorphia; I was the crazy one for not loving an unhealthily-high percentage of body fat. For wanting to start running so I wouldn’t get tired from walking up the stairs too fast. For wanting to actually feel confident in an overpriced dress we buy for the sole purpose of looking good. I’m a real life psycho.

No! I want to be a healthy happy human being and I realize this one thing really affects my confidence and body image, so I’m going to change it. And also, obesity is real. Health is science. Stop telling me to stay happy and out of breath.

I see a problem with myself and I want to fix it. That should not be offensive to anyone and if it is, I’m sorry I don’t really care. Please stop telling me how I should love myself.

My body, my choice. I’ll eat healthy and workout if I want to. Haters.

Song of the Day: May I Have This Dance x Francis and The Lights ✨


Go and Love Yourself 🦋

I said something today and it broke my heart but I also know I need to accept it because it’s true. I’m used to not being supported. I’m used to it. And saying that out loud sucks because deep down, I know how true that is.

It sucks because I’m used to not having literally anyone support me. Not a mom, a dad, a fairy godmother, nothing. That is a fact of my life. I’ve been trying to fight it and I’ve been trying to force people to love me, but I can’t. You can’t make people love you. You can’t make people believe in you. You can’t make people support you.

I never wanted to be alone but I need to accept that I am. I always have been. I’m used to this. No money, no family, 16 in the middle of Miami. That’s literally all I know.

That is today. Today I have no money, no support, and no (real) family. In the middle of LA. 😋

Guess what? It’s ok. I’m not going to be here forever. I am going to spend the rest of my life making money and loving the man of my dreams. I know that. But I can’t get there if I don’t accept where I am now.

I am alone. I have no support. I can’t spend my life looking for something that just isn’t here right now.

I don’t want to waste my life anymore. I need to accept that I am alone so I can work at not being alone. I need to accept that I’m financially unstable (broke AF) so I can work at being financially stable by myself. I need to accept that no one is saving me, so I can learn how to save myself.

The girl that never wanted to be alone finally has to accept that she is. Cliché as fuck, but I am the only person I can depend on. I need to learn that. I need to learn to love that.

The beautiful part? It’s ok. It’s ok because I’m used to it. I know I can do it. I can live with 0 support and thrive. Not many people can do that. But I can. ❤️

I write these posts because I can’t be the only one who feels this way. I can’t be the only girl surrounded by people who feels absolutely alone. I can’t be the only girl who clings to every guy she dates because she’s praying he’s finally going to be her Prince Charming.

My Prince Charming might be out there, but this is Frozen, not Sleeping Beauty. My husband will love and support my strength, but he can’t love something that isn’t there.

I don’t want to be alone. I want unconditional love and nothing less. I need to learn how to give that to myself, first.  

Also, my GoFundMe got hundreds of views and raised $0. And so many people, friends and family included, told me they believed in my idea and supported my dream. Not one donation.

It’s ok. I’m not mad. It’s Christmas and people have bigger priorities. My idea is still phenomenal and I am still going to shake up the entire world. The whole damn thing. I know that. I got this, on my own.

I might even raise more money than I expected. 😋

Song of the Day: Work x Iggy Azalea👑

For All the Daughters ❤️

For all the daughters who didn’t get hugs.

For all the daughters who were made to feel small.

For all the daughters who want mommy’s love and daddy’s success.

For the daughters who feel misunderstood.

For the daughters who don’t feel like daughters.

For all the mothers who don’t understand their daughters.

I’m starting a foundation. It’s going to be big and it’s going to be grand and it’s going to make all of this worth it. I am going to build a career where I give women everything I needed when I was young. Everything I need right now, today.

For all the daughters,

I got you.

Your sisters have got you.

We will be your family.

(just give me some time so I can build us a great house that will last forever 🏡)

Song of the Day: Oprah’s Life Advice ☀️🎓

Fuck Your Feelings 🌸

I gave up my personality a long time ago. I think I just got so good at being pretty and making myself small. For my mother, for John* and his family, for Arthur*. I wanted their acceptance so much that whenever they said they didn’t like something, I got rid of it. And yes, I always get fed up and leave eventually, but by that point I’ve already given up so much of myself and I’m exhausted. And I’m depleted. I have no fucking clue who I am.

I’m completely uninterested in meeting people because everyone I’ve really loved has either manipulated me or left. Or both. I’m tired of being left and I refuse to give anymore of myself. I want me back. I am mine and I want me back. But I also don’t want to be alone anymore. I miss love. I miss being loved. I miss being cared for and protected. I miss having someone to rub my hair. I miss feeling warm inside. But I don’t trust anybody. I don’t even like anybody right now.

What I do know, is that I want my personality back. I want my voice back. And I don’t care if people call me a bitch. I mean, of course I do. But I care more about hearing my own voice. I care more about standing my own ground. The world is scary and it is so nice to feel protected. But I have to protect myself now. I want to protect myself now. And I’m going to protect my voice and who I am.

I’m sassy. Like sassy as fuck. But I’m also kinda really funny. Like lowkey funny. That’s just who I am. That is one of the most endearing things about me. That is my personality. You can’t take away one without taking away the other. (It’s the DNA of who I am). And if you take my personality away, there is nothing left.

Who am I if I’m not me? I’m nothing. I would be nothing. And honestly, nothing is worth being nothing. No one is worth not having yourself. I choose to believe that. I choose to believe there are people who don’t need me to be nothing in order to love me. There are people who want to love me for who I am. I choose to believe that. It’s my choice.

I’m going to speak my truth. I’m going to fucking scream it from the rooftops. And I’m not going to apologize for it. I’m not going to make myself small anymore. I’m going to stand the fuck up, just like the big boys. Because I have big girl things to say. And also, I like being pretty. I’m not going to let anybody take that from me. I’m not going to make myself ugly so that men can’t prop me up like a fucking trophy. I’m not your trophy. I’m not your anything. I’m not yours. I’m not going to make myself unsuccessful so that my parents won’t have anything to brag about. That’s not fair to me. I am sassy as fuck and I want to feel pretty and successful. That is who I am. That is my personality. No one is shaming that out of me. Not even other (fake) feminists.

I’m probably going to get in trouble, but I’m going to say what the fuck I want. And I’m going to stop comparing myself to my dog to get through my issues. Because I’m better than that (lol). And I’m going to get the fuck over my ex. Because I’m so much better than him.

Oh and November 6th, I really hope you vote Democrat. Because I didn’t like Hillary, but I still knew Trump would be a very bad idea. Look how that’s turned out 😊




*obviously not their real names

Song of the Day: Hold Up x Beyonce🔮

forever mood 

My Dog Hates Me 🐶

This morning I looked at Milo and thought, “You’re cute, but your mommy is badder” (and Milo is REALLY fucking cute btw). But I feel like I’m coming into myself again and as literally bad as I  think I look right now, I know I’m cuter than my absolutely adorable dog. We’re two baddies 😍.

But he’s depressed and traumatized, and I guess so am I. For 2 years, I have lived my life primarily inside of my head. Luckily I’m a natural introvert and a very smart girl, so I can keep myself entertained (and so can Milo lol). So that’s great, except I don’t want to feel like a shell of a person anymore. I don’t want to retreat further and further into myself because I’m terrified of everything. If only my dog would stop thinking the world is out to get him!

I think I love/hate Milo so much because he shows me the best and saddest parts of myself. I want to help him, but I don’t know how to help myself. I want to fix him, but I don’t know how to fix myself. I want him to just be better! Right now!! But I also know that’s impossible because he’s been through so much. I adopted Milo; he had a life before me. He’s cute and he’s young, but he’s been through a lot. Milo has pain. Cuteness doesn’t erase that.

I started learning to read tarot cards recently and I keep pulling the deer card. The deer is “the mother” and apparently ya girl needs to learn patience. And perspective. I think the only way to help him is to be patient with him. Except I’m the most impatient person I know. So I guess that’s where the perspective comes in.

This isn’t about me. This is about him. Milo’s trauma is about him and my personal trauma does not negate his. I can’t be mad at my dog for making me sad when 1) I wasn’t happy to begin with and 2) his sadness has nothing to do with me because he’s working through his own shit.

As his mommy, the only thing I should be worried about is his happiness. I see him struggling, so I need to help him. I see his sad eyes, so I need to make sure his tail wags more often than it does not.

I need to get him outside, and running! I need to take him out of his sadness and show him that life is great, and fun, and there are so many more treats out there in the world. Maybe that’s my perspective shift. I need to stop throwing a us dual pity party and surprise my boy with the best rest of his life!

So what I’m saying is, stop moping. It’s ok, you’re fine. The people you love are fine. Rome wasn’t built in a day and people are allowed to be sad for now. Let’s just stop staying sad. It’s not fun and the people we love need us to at least pretend to be happy so we can love them a little more. Who knows, maybe it’ll even trick us into loving ourselves a little more too. 💕



Spotify Playlist: Bob Marley (4 Evaaaa) 🌸

Remembering Your Divinity 🧚🏽‍♀️

The other day I had one of those LA epiphany moments you see on tv, and it was pretty amazing. I was driving down Santa Monica Blvd listening to Alanis Morissette- Thank U and I just cried, and smiled, and had the sun shining down on my face. And before that, the lady who did my wax (cause I’m fancy) told me I was beautiful and women would kill to have my body. And it meant a lot to me because she was actually really pretty. And skinny. And engaged. And the girl I wish I was.

Rewind. So basically, I was explaining how fat and insecure I felt in my body and Mishka kindly pointed out to me that those are terrible words and I would never let one of my friends speak that way about herself. And I felt a little knot in the pit of my stomach because she was absolutely right.

I am my meanest, harshest, worst critic. I verbally abuse myself all day long. I tell me I’m fat and I would be better if my thighs were smaller or my knees didn’t have that ugly little coat of fat over them. And they’re knobby. No other girl’s knees have those. My knees look deformed. Fuck my knees!  I could go on all day. And if I replaced the word “I” with “she/her” that would literally be cyber bullying.

And then it dawned on me, this is literally how I speak to myself. That is so hurtful! Of course I can’t shake this constant unhappiness when I’m literally verbally abusing myself for being human. For being imperfect. For making mistakes. I hold myself to the death penalty for everything and I’m fucking exhausted! I’m tired of shielding myself from myself and then belittling myself for belittling myself. It’s a vicious cycle and I’m out. I don’t want to play anymore.

I listened to that song and I fucking cried because I realized I was beautiful. I am beautiful!

1. I have really great/cool taste in music. Thanks to my mom, I’ve been listening to Jay Z and Alanis Morissette since like elementary school.

2. I’m brilliantly smart. It’s truly a gift. And also probably why I’m so lazy. I can think myself out of anything, into anything, through anything (I can also overthink anything 😊). Listen, I’ve only had experiences with my brain, but I think she might be pretty fucking special. I like my brain.

3. My heart is as big and as open as all of the oceans combined. That’s a good thing! Yes, sometimes I get hurt because I forget to protect myself and I give too much (to the wrong people). But that doesn’t make me bad. That means I had some lessons to learn and actually my soul is pretty fucking amazing, thank you very much.

I’m done being mean to myself. My default Is that I’m fucking beautiful. I’m perfect. Because I am. My default is not that I am deformed or something is wrong with me. My default is not that she is deformed or something is wrong with her. She is beautiful for who she is. So is he. Get it?

Nothing is wrong with me, not even my knees. Not even your hidden insecurity. I’m a human. We have variation. That’s the cool thing about being a human! So what if our knees look a little different. We need to be nicer again, especially to ourselves.

Also, the next time I don’t talk to the really(!) cute guy at the bar because, “I’m not pretty enough”, I’m going to remember I as a person am fucking beautiful and if he’s distracted by my knees he’s literally a fucking idiot and it’s actually his loss. Except I won’t know if he’s a fucking idiot until I go talk to him. So I’m going to go talk to the cute guy at the bar. Because I’m fucking beautiful. And so are you! And don’t be mean to yourself. Or others.

And while we’re still writing, what are 3 things that make you fucking beautiful? (Say it out loud!!!!)

“How ‘bout no longer being masochistic.

How ‘bout remembering your divinity.”

Pow! Thank you, Alanis Morissette. ☀️

The Story of You 🌟

Has anyone else been experiencing these post-graduation blues accompanied by an overwhelming feeling of not quite knowing who you are? I graduated from college 2 years ago. I have been an adult for two whole years and I still have no idea what I am doing. How do you know which next steps to take? Should I go to grad school? Move to NYC? Get a bigger apartment in LA? What am I trying to accomplish? How am I going to get there?

It would be nice if I knew the answers to half of these questions; I don’t. But I do know what I’m trying to accomplish. I want to empower women to empower themselves. I want women to know me and know that they can conquer the world. I want to be the wild-child successful sassy friend that motivates her friends to take risks and bet on themselves too. Have I figured out how to monetize that and make it a career? Nope!

Why is it so hard for us to figure out what we’re supposed to be doing? I said fuck traditional standards a long time ago. The adults have it all wrong. I am not a fan of working my ass off, for low pay, to build someone else’s dream while they make all the money. That sounds like a horrible time and I’m not doing it. (Unless building that person’s dream helps with building your dream, then go for it!). Otherwise, what is the point?

Helping people lead better lives is what I know I love doing. Learning how to turn that into a career is the part I need to learn. I am the queen of side hustles, but I  s a l i v a t e thinking about being able to spend all of my time just doing something I love. Like how incredible would that be?

I know I will do something incredible, something far above average, in this crazy amazing world. But I also know that as with anything else, we need time to build our crafts. We need time to learn our stories. I need time to know myself, so that I can best serve this world. I do not need to be lost in society’s version of cubical success. Who am I helping there? That’s not what matters to me.

It’s no secret that successful people tend to love what they do. I could never be truly successful at something I didn’t love, because I’d never really care. If I’m going to reach my greatest potential, I need to know who I am so that I can monetize my passions and be excited about growing my business because I genuinely love it. There is no cap on that kind of success. I can use what I love to make a better way for myself and my family (and even my future puppy!). I can be happy and successful, and I can build my career around the life I want to live, and not the other way around. I can have the freedom to be my best self, and be successful doing it. 

We have to put ourselves first and invest in us. Start now, get to know yourself, work towards your goal a little more every day, and have a tiny castle in 5 years. You can take your time reaching the pinnacle of your potential, you just have to start.

The thing with not being like the generation before us, is that we get to make a new path. Sometimes I have no clue what I’m going to do next. Sometimes I think, “omg what if I royally f*cked up and I should’ve just gone to law school this entire time? Now what?!” And then I buckle down and I figure it out. Just like with anything else. It’s not easy because it doesn’t exist yet. Want to know something cool? The wheel only needed to be a success once and it worked forever on. We just started even thinking about constructing the wheel, there are many more trials to be had; we are nowhere near done.

My next steps: I will work on encouraging women every day, in some way. I will take the time to get to know myself, and I will research successful entrepreneurs so that I can learn how they did it. I can admit that I don’t know my five, ten, or twenty year plan. And I can admit that I don’t give a fuck. Because if I knew it, that would take all the fun out of getting there. I’m betting on myself, getting to know me, and building my story as I live it. I hope I inspire you to do the same. Stay tuned!

**Update: I will also write one blog post a day to get in the habit of consistently creating content, whether or not I think it’s amazing. If I’m not creating content, how can I learn what kind of content creator I’ll be?  If I do not comply, please yell at me on social media.🌸🌸🌸

What are your next steps?

Self Love vs. Happiness 🌸

Self-Love (n): regard for one’s own well-being and happiness.

Self-love is not happiness. Let me say that one more time, self love is not happiness. I found myself in a bit of a funk recently and for the life of me, I could not figure out what was wrong. I meditated, I did yoga, I practiced little acts of self care throughout my day…and still, no happiness.

How could I not be happy if I loved myself? I woke up every day with the intention of loving myself, and I acted with that intention. Or so I thought.. Continue reading “Self Love vs. Happiness 🌸”