No Man's Land

Sometimes I feel like I am in this no man's land. I'm not really fat but I'm not really thin, I'm not really plus size, but I'm not really straight sized either. It can be frustrating if I let it get to me but lately I just overall feel really positive. Lately I feel very present, and aware that there is nothing wrong with me. 

I am fine just the way I am, and I am fine wanting to move forward. The best way to get out of no man's land is to not let yourself hang out there. 

Telling myself I was in this place was mentally keeping me there and holding me back. I wasn't in some weird zone of am I or am I not okay. The outline of my body doesn't really determine my place in life. My attitude does. 

I find myself lately thinking about kindness. How much I value it. How much it can shift things and how easily it can be practiced. I have made a more pronounced effort to treat others with kindness and the super cool thing is it's making me treat myself with more kindness. It's making me take a step back and just look at my actions or motives. Not judge them, just go so what's this about. Two weeks ago I was working 20+ hour days, and one night everyone was tired, grumpy and over it. We ordered pizza. When in doubt feed the crew. I thought about it, because when it's pizza delicious. I took a beat and just said are you hungry, no, I'm cold and the pizza's hot. Cool, so really what you need is something warm, would tea suffice? It did. Not beating myself up or criticizing my impulse made me actually suss out and get what I wanted. 

I've been snazzy'ing up my outfits, taking time to blow out my hair in the mornings, getting to the gym and generally prioritizing self care and the things that make me feel good. The best part about this is I am doing the because they make me feel good. I am not doing them to ingratiate myself with society, or be more appealing to men, or because I feel the need to apologize for not being smaller. I am okay with taking up space, I am okay with garnering attention, I am okay with my outside matching my inside. 

I feel good and that is a good thing. I don't have to apologize for it, couch it in anything, or defend it. I'm just gonna let it ride. I don't feel this dramatic almost manic upswing I just this sense of yeah, I'm not perfect but I am a-okay with it all. 

Deep side part, don't care. 

Pilgrim Puritan Realness. 

You can't see the elephants on this dress, but I love them. 

It's Been Seventeen Years

Seventeen years ago today my Dad died. He's officially been gone longer then I knew him. My Dad's death doesn't really make me sad anymore. It's been incorporated into my life. It's become my normal. I read once that grief is like a window, sometimes you get it almost shut and other times it flies open. That window flies open less but it's still never all the way closed.

I think one of the hardest things about losing someone is that life goes on. That life moves forward without this person who was so significant to you. After he first died I used to think how can this be? How can people be outside laughing and going about life like it's the same? The contradiction nearly broke me those first raw weeks.

I've spent a lot of time reflecting on my relationship with my father the past few years. The good, the bad, the impact, his death and while there's been moments I just wanted to put it in a box and move on I am glad I didn't. Exploring what he meant to me, and how he affected and shaped me lets him live on. He was complicated and flawed like just about everyone, but he let me see some of the best people are. That they deserve your time and patience, that their love can be rewarding and I guess most importantly seventeen years later post his absence enduring.

I don't really remember his voice anymore. If I close my eyes and concentrate real hard I can bring up a vague idea of it. I can hear it in memories. These losses used to crush me and I would cling to them harder. If I forget then he's really gone. Regardless of if I remember he is gone. That's what you have to live with. His voice doesn't really matter. The ways I see him in my life do, the fact that he did exist does.

I'm a lot like my Dad. I'm ambitious, hard working, practical and utterly ridiculous all at the same time. I'm also compulsive, have a tendency towards addiction, and self destructive. How much is him and how much is me who knows. I used to feel this pressure to be more like him to honor him but it doesn't really work. You do have to move on and live for you. I carry him in my heart and that's really the only he can stay forever.

I also inherited his trait of never looking directly into a camera.