Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
Photo



1 note
·
View note
Photo


My Valentine's Day sentiments :)
0 notes
Photo
Love this.

“Have more than you http://ift.tt/1PKglFE
39 notes
·
View notes
Photo

lettering it out.
2 notes
·
View notes
Photo










Serenbe, for the win.
0 notes
Text
No one cares about your outfit... except for everyone.
I wore a poncho to work the other day. And lived to regret it...
To be clear, this was not your run-of-the-mill, grandma poncho. This thing was legit! It was from LOFT!
When I bought this fine wearable, my husband gave me the why-is-she-buying-that-heinous-oh-god-she-saw-my-disapproving-expression-now-I-wont-get-lucky-abort!-abort! look.
Working for a tech agency with mostly men, I knew this was a reasonable indication of how my Mexico-chic (it’s a soft “x”) visage would go over. But I didn’t care. Because I’m enlightened and confident and poised and immune to teasing. Besides, I’m always reading these really inspirational quotes on Pinterest and Instagram telling me to be empowered and be myself. Well, my self is chic-poncho wearing, so take THAT, geeks! At least I was popular in high school! (she says to her boss who’s making way more money than she is).

So I wore it to work. And from the MOMENT I walked in the door, I was bombarded. Shots were fired. And my poor poncho was called so many names... Blanket. Frumpy Frump. Ugly curtains. 70s Carpet. It was even donned by our EVP of Tech and ridiculed while providing warmth. Poor thing - I could feel its heart breaking. It only wanted to be loved and accepted by all the superhero-tshirt-and-converse-shoe-wearing nerds around it. But, alas, it found no acceptance. The hours spent in therapy thereafter cannot be counted. It was a dark day indeed.

And that’s when I realized. No one cares about your outfit. EXCEPT FOR EVERYONE. For all our talk about the importance of being ourselves and not caring what other people think, we sure create a painfully critical environment for others, and we certainly don’t handle criticism very well from others.
Why?
Because at the end of the day, we want to be accepted as we are - no strings attached - no bells and whistles - “ugly” poncho and all.
I think the mistake we make is assuming that as individuals we either care or don’t care what people think - as though we’re born either with an innate ability to rise above criticism or we’re not - and that it cannot be altered. But, I don’t think that’s true. No one is immune to criticism - it’s a part of our DNA to want to be accepted into a tribe for survival. It’s something we have to work at; we have to challenge ourselves to feel a bit uncomfortable for the sake of something we believe in.
My poncho agrees.
1 note
·
View note
Text
The Fixin’s... all of them.
My therapist says I need to journal.
For the five of you still reading, I’m not one of those super spoiled, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, SUV-driving cliches who “sees a therapist” just to talk about it over a Starbucks venti-half-calf-double-foam-skinny-vanilla latte... far from it. On the contrary, I’m a moderately spoiled, brown-haired, blue-eyed, Civic-driving cliche who “sees a therapist” because she’s a recovering Preacher’s Kid just to talk about it over tall-non-fat-no-whip-two-pump-white mochas (from Starbucks, unless she’s feeling indie and ironic). But she doesn’t drink white mochas anymore. She’s trying to lose 3 lbs. When did she switch to third person?
Instead of writing down all my thoughts and feelings using a private, analog medium that no one will be able to use against me in court one day, I’ve decided to digitize. Not because I believe the whole world should hear what I have to say (although they really should, because I’m special, obvi), but because my hand will tire if I write in cursive for too long, it feels like a waste of perfectly good paper on which to doodle during business meetings and I don’t want journals cluttering my living room when I’m trying to understand why Olivia didn’t see this coming with Fitz. Classic Olivia.
Back to my therapist. She’s pretty expensive, and we’ve spent many a session where she says I should write and I say I’ll get to it. At this point, I just don’t want to spend more money having me tell her I’ll do the thing. I get it, Doc! Now leave me and my five friends be!
So blogosphere, here I am, writing a blog. A feelings blog. And it’s going to be super fetch. I’m going to write about everything - religion, politics, wellness, business, adult coloring books, prejudice, Donald Trump, kale salads... in short, All the Fixin’s (see what I did there?) You’ll probably hate it. Luckily, it’s not for you - it’s for my therapist. I mean, it’s for me.
See you in the cyber.
xoxo,
Gossip Girl.
1 note
·
View note