the overwhelming wave

I don’t easily admit my weaknesses. Right now, I just need an outlet. I need this blog for me. I didn’t even know it was possible to cry for three hours straight. I didn’t even know it was possible to cry in your sleep.

I haven’t been okay. My mom and brother left to go back to the Netherlands after a three week visit late last night. My boyfriend spent the night with me last night and him going home is always hard… but this time it hurt so bad.

Goodbyes are never easy. My mom always says that it’s not goodbye; that we’ll see each other again. And I know that. These goodbyes though- they felt like goodbyes. It’s all too weird.

I am excited for my NASA internship. I really am. I’m just so incredibly overwhelmed. All these doubts and thoughts running through my mind of “what if I’m not smart enough?” or “what if I don’t get along with the people?”.

There’s so much still to do. So much to pack. To clean. To read.

It doesn’t help that I got a cold on Sunday.

My stress level is through the roof and I’m not quite sure why I can’t pull myself together. I miss my family. I miss my boyfriend. I miss my friends.

I’ve completely lost my appetite. This cold thing has made me feel weak. Listening to music even has no appeal right now.

This post really has no good content. I just needed to type. I needed my outlet.

I know everything will be okay. I do. I just needed to take a breath and type this.

I’ll be okay… just maybe not today.

~E.

Second Star to the Right, and Straight on ’til Morning!

A small brick house with the number 25 on it sits hidden cleverly behind a tall tree. It’s not a free-standing house, but it’s still roomy enough for my mom and I. A giant curtain cascades from the ceiling onto a little blonde girl hiding in it to “scare” her mother. The blonde girl carefully runs up the stairs to her room, which is skillfully decorated in yellow and blue. One of her favorite things is her Lion King rug, the one with baby Simba and Nala. She runs over to her mother’s room and admires the round pink lamp hanging from the ceiling over her bed.

Her mom calls her downstairs to eat dinner. They sit down at the yellow table in the small kitchen dining area and laugh about something that happened that day. The girl refuses to eat cucumber, and dinner concludes. She flops down on the green-and-white-striped couch and props her feet up on a round papasan chair. She daydreams about what America will be like. She tries to imagine away the boxes that surround her and the feelings she’s having. She’s very excited. But also nervous, and almost a little sad. She has so many friends, something she doesn’t ever believe will change. She glows with joy to think about the email address her mom allowed her to get to keep in touch with her countless companions.

On her last day of school, she proudly goes from classroom to classroom with a poster of two red cats for the teachers to sign, a Dutch tradition for when a student leaves school. She knew the whole school knew her as the girl moving to America, and everyone thought she was so cool. She couldn’t help but grin. It was bittersweet, saying goodbye to the students she grew up with, but she promised she’d come back one day.

Her Lion King rug had disappeared to somewhere, and eventually the young girl and her mother boarded a plane. A plane to America.

I’ll never forget the feeling of stepping outside of Pittsburgh international Airport that August of 2005. The air was warm and welcoming, a feeling I’ve happily associated with that airport and landing there in the summer months. It’s something I often look forward to when flying; feeling that welcoming, warm, American feeling once more.

I know we drove “home”, but I don’t remember too much of it anymore. I wish I could put smells into words better, because that’s really all I remember. The scene is this: a big white house on a corner of an intersection in a small neighborhood.

The young blonde girl opens the door to her new house, and is immediately overwhelmed. She was excited, but she wasn’t sure how to feel. “The doors are really hard to open”, she thought to herself. She went exploring in this new, unfamiliar place. There was a small, enclosed space on the front of the house that captured her interest. It was incredibly warm, and smelled like an old book store. She immediately started fantasizing about turning this space into hers, her playroom. She ran up the stairs and pulled doors open. The door to the right was awkward to open, and probably the hardest in the house. Inside was a room with the ugliest carpet you’ll ever see. Red clad the floors, with some sort of pattern of black color sprawled across like it was natural. The only furnishing in this room was a black couch bed thing- something the girl later learned was called a “foo-tawn” and to stay away from it because she could get her fingers caught in it. She found her room next door to the weird red room with the strange bed-couch-thing. A closet with squeaky doors greeted her, looking over a tall twin sized bed dressed in pink flowery sheets.

Fast forward some time, and our little girl starts school. She starts in Second Grade, with the knowledge that she’ll probably do it twice because of her age and her lack of any English speaking almost whatsoever.

The little girl proudly, but nervously, walks into her new school building. She knows what to expect a little bit, because she’d been given a tour the week before. She even got to ride a school bus for the first time ever, and that was super cool. She read the numbers on the walls of the school building carefully. She stopped at 38… and went inside. That was her “homeroom”, whatever that meant. She went inside and sat down, keeping her head low and staying quiet. Other students were fascinated with the shy blonde girl who had just joined them. They’d never seen her before. The teacher introduced her, and immediately other students came up to her and asked her all kinds of questions about her home country- most of which she didn’t know how to answer. She quickly became friends with a girl named Erin, and the two young girls were soon inseparable. She befriended a few more people- to include Sarah and twins Taylor and Tiffany. Her first sleepover party was at the twins’ house, and Sarah became a close friend as well, often spending time with her at Truck Night with her father’s monster truck.

Befriending Erin (and the other girls) showed me that it was possible to move on, that I could make new friends somewhere else. I stayed friends with Erin pretty consistently throughout the duration of my general education, up until senior year of high school. I still don’t really know what happened, but genuinely I hope she’s doing well. She’s in the Army now, and I hope her life is going great. Throughout the years of being friends with Erin, one time her mother told me that when I first moved, she thought I was from “Neverland” and how excited young Erin was to meet a girl from Neverland. Sarah and I still talk occasionally, but I’ve practically lost complete contact with the twins. It’s funny how you grow up, and eventually move separate ways.

For the longest time I always blamed my mom for “ruining my life” by dragging me away from the friends I had in the Netherlands and moving me to this country. It wasn’t until about two years ago that I truly appreciated America for what it is, for giving me the opportunities I have today, and for allowing me to have some of the greatest friends. Opportunities, experiences, and friends that will actually last no matter where I go. Realizing the bigger picture, realizing that the world is a small place that with modern technology is easily traveled, and realizing that those who truly care will always be there helped me close the door on this chapter of my life. Now, I’m not saying that I don’t not relate to that Miranda Lambert song about the house that built her… and if I had the chance I’d absolutely go take a look at what my old house looks like now. But I accept that I’ve moved on- and I realize how happy I am where I am now.

January: Think back to a moment where you’ve come to the end of the road with something important in your life—a relationship with a lover; moving out of your childhood home; graduation from school; etc. Write a scene wrapped around that moment, describing how you felt (good and bad) and how you closed the door on that chapter in your life.

 

“The moment you doubt whether you can fly, you cease for ever to be able to do it.”

~E.⭐

The Bells Were Ringing Out…

For Christmas Day! It’s the last month of the year, so naturally my blogging wouldn’t happen as scheduled. So far, December has been fantastic. 

T’was the nizzle before Christmizzle and all through the hizzle… Oh wait. I should probably elaborate on the month itself. Last monthly goal reflections is a go! Let’s see… what were my goals?

  1. Keep an eye on my finances and be smart about it. I mean. Sure. Yes. It went… better.
  2. Finish my online course early (because the weekends are great when there’s nothing to do) I mean, the semester ended so there’s that
  3. Further my Civil Air Patrol education. Recently, I attended a Mission Scanner course and will be getting my aircrew wings upon completing two sorties. I’ve also completed more of the FEMA training, and I just. I want to learn everything I can. SUPER COOL NEWS COMING IN THIS POST OMG
  4. Be more organized. This continues off of finding a routine. Jetlag is a… bad thing. Organized? Yeah. I did that. But routines? Meh.
  5. Apply for scholarships. Tuition is a little important. Tuition is indeed important.
  6. Keep a close eye on what I eat and when I eat. I can eat without getting sick again! And screw feeling bad about eating. I have been healthier, though. So it’s lit. 

Since November, plenty of things have happened. My first semester of college came to a close, I stepped out of my comfort zone with CAP (and it paid off), and life is great. 

I finished my first semester strong and confident. I got all As with the exception of a B+ in English, setting my first semester GPA at a 3.823, something I’m incredibly proud of. My classes were pretty challenging. My Story on the Web, the class where I had to create a website and tell a story online, taught me an incredible amount about various Adobe softwares. I had a super fun time creating my Audio Story and Video Story, all about the Civil Air Patrol. The lab was an open lab style instruction, meaning it was completely optional to come to class (except for the mandatory once per unit). Myself and a guy named Max attended almost every class, often being the only ones. I didn’t know his name until about week 13, but him and I would always hate people together so that was pretty cool. I also took a class called “Destination Kent State”, a class targeted at first year students. It was a requirement and very… interesting. English was pretty neat, but wayyy too much writing. My final project was a research paper on Ernest Hemingway and his literature as anti-war. The people in that class were pretty cool; Julia and I talk sometimes. I also took Computer Science, which was… stressful. I scored fantastically on the second midterm though, and after much panic ended the year with an A anyway. The last in-person class I took this semester was Society, Culture, and the Digital Sciences. At first, it started out a little rough. I couldn’t grasp how the professor would teach, and missed a lot of points on the first few assignments. 

HOLD UP IT’S TWO MINUTES UNTIL CHRISTMAS OKAY WOW (we’re watching The Santa Clause 2 and bun is asleep) (surprise I’m in the Netherlands for Christmas) 

OKAY WOW IT’S CHRISTMAS HI 🎄❄️❄️❄️❄️ MERRY CHRISTMAS ❄️❄️❄️❄️🎄

Alrighty so, SCDSCI, as we abbreviated it. I ended with a 102% A. The professor was pretty awesome. I also took an online class, called “Media, Power, and Culture”. It was interesting. Somehow I pulled off an A in that too. Overall, I think it went great. I had a fantastic first semester, and my scholarships and grants covered everything. I took 17 credit hours last semester, and I already registered for Spring 2018. 18 credit hours, here I come! It’ll be good. 

Last year’s Christmas Post talked all about my visit to the States, as I was living in the Netherlands. This year, I’m spending Christmas in the Netherlands with Andrew and my family, and it’s pretty cool. 

ALSO OKAY GUESS WHAT okay. I mentioned cool Civil Air Patrol news. I applied for 2018 Ohio Wing Encampment Cadet Deputy Commander for Operations… AND I GOT THE POSITION. Applying was incredibly out of my comfort zone and writing the letter of intent was pretty stressful, but in the end, it really did pay off. Andrew applied for Cadet Deputy Commander for Support, and he got that position. Encampment is going to be pretty awesome. I’m super stoked. The Cadet Commander seems pretty cool too, and I truly think this encampment is going to be fantastic.

How is it almost one a.m. help

Okay, I’m being sent to bed so “Santa” can go put gifts under the tree ( @ mom). I’ll be posting at least once more this year to reflect on my goals for 2017 and announce my theme for 2018. I can’t believe it’s already the last month of the year. It’s been a great 12 months of goals with y’all. So on that note…

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night! 

~E.🎄

blAUG in a timely manner

Someone slap me; that wasn’t even a good pun.august

Well, I was going to blog in a timely manner this month. I suppose August 2nd isn’t the worst I could’ve done. My laptop keeps overheating and being a general pain in the neck, which is rather ironic for a digital sciences major to be honest. 

This past month has been incredible. I had the once in a lifetime experience of releasing rehabilitated seals. I got to drive a boat. I found out some amazing news- my first semester of college is fully paid for by scholarships! I was super excited to learn that. I can’t wait for college. July was pretty freaking amazing, and I know August will be just as good. 

There will absolutely be a post about seal releasing. It was such an amazing day. I can’t even put it into words right now. Super shout-out to the Zeehondencreche in Pieterbuten for that opportunity. I can’t wait to post all about it. 

But let’s see. This year is going ridiculously fast. It’s the eight month of the year and I don’t know how I feel about that. I’m about to be living in an apartment I signed the lease on. I’ll have a roommate, a friend and Spaatz cadet from CAP. We’ll have a cat. I’m about to be an adult. College is starting so soon. I can’t wait, but I’d be lion if I said I wasn’t nervous. I’m going to miss my family like hell, and I’m so thankful that they’ve been nothing but supportive and encouraging me on my journey to be the first to get a degree in my family. The first to even go to college. That feels so incredibly amazing. 

I know I’ll have to work my ass off, but I’m ready. I have the most amazing friends, family, and boyfriend I could ask for. I’m going to make them all proud. I’m going to show everyone that doubted me who I am. I am a lion.  

My July goals were kind of lame, but I kept up with them. I can actually do push-ups now, so hey. There’s a plus. I’m curious to see where I am on my year goals. Let’s review!

  1. Love myself and be happy. Do things because they’ll make me happy.
  2. Go to college and study where and what I want.
  3. Achieve at least C/Lt Col in the Civil Air Patrol
  4. Learn to stay calm and manage emotions, as well as being able to express these to others. (This one may not make sense to you as the reader, but it does to me. I’ve already started working on it!)
  5. Learn something new. Whether this is learning a new language, something about computers, anything.
  6. Make money. Save money. (Already working on the saving money! #AdventureFund)
  7. Stay hydrated. All year.
  8. Read my whole James Patterson series.
  9. Travel.
  10. Write more. (Whether this is blogging, letters, cards, journaling, it’s going to happen!)
  1. Yeah. This one’s going. Most days, I love my body. This one’s going. 
  2. Hell. Yes.
  3. This one might not be realistic due to the requirement of attending Cadet Officer School or a Region Cadet Leadership School, but I’ll be a Cadet Major on the first day of college! I’ll be a major starting my major. Ha. Thanks for that pun, mom.  
  4. This one’s a work-in-progress. 
  5. I know like, three Russian words and more German than I did a month ago? I learned a lot at CDTA? I’m wayyy too familiar with the Public Affairs Regualtions for CAP? 
  6. I mean. Yeah. I saved hella money on college this semester. And there was the $0.81 I made in interest on my savings account! 
  7. I’m working on that. *eyes water bottle*
  8. Still. On. Book. Thirteen. Traveling really killed my vibe. 
  9. Yeah, I’m so sick of that international flight. And Germany is cool. 
  10. Hi, I’m writing (and I mean, I wrote to study for my tests for C/Maj so there’s that).

I guess I’m only going to set one goal for August:

Whatever you do, do it with passion and to the best of your ability. 

This can apply to so much, and I can’t wait to show the world who I am. I won’t give up. I’m not going to be just a nobody. Mark my words. 

Alright y’all. Thank you for reading. You guys are fantastic.

Smile, you’re awesome. Take some time today to think about how far you’ve come and how you’d make your younger self proud. Be someone you would be looked up to as a child.

~E.💕

P.S. I untangled a slinky this past week and that would’ve made younger me so proud. That’s all I wanted to be able to do in life. Little things. It’s the little things. 

My blog is one year old!

A year ago today I posted an 190 word blog post, titled “Why am I a lion?”. My inspiration came from taking a baby Simba lion stuffed animal that my boyfriend at the time got me to Chicago, Illinois. That’s when I realized how freaking amazing lions are. They’re fierce and strong. Exactly like how I wish to live my life. “She Became a Lion”. A quote from that very first blog post- “I like to think of myself like a lion. Strong. Fierce. An over-comer. Yet, gentle. Because, everyone sees some shit in life. But, it gets better. As stereotypical as that may sound. Really… Everyone can find their lion. My inspiration just happened to… actually be a lion.

I ended that post like I’ve ended almost every post on my blog; with a quote or small, uplifting statement. That statement was “smile, you’re amazing“. fiftyLittle did I know that statement would lead to so many more.
Over the course of a year, I posted 50 times. I got this cool little notification from WordPress right after posting my April Goals update. Fifty posts, anywhere from poetry and posts about myself, to Simba traveling and whatever else random I come up with, all these posts make up my blog.

From my fourteen followers, my friends that regularly read my blog whenever I post on Snapchat that I’m “back at it again”, to my fantastic editor and countless drafts that have lived on my account or ages, that’s what SHEBECAMEALIONTWOmy blog is. It’s nothing big, nothing popular. Sure, it’s the link in my bio on all of my social media accounts, but that doesn’t mean anything. I’m super thankful to those of you that read my posts, those of you that express your excitement about reading my posts to me. All of you are so fantastic.

So, that’s where my blog has come in a year. But… what about me? Surely I changed a little. And change, I did.

If you would’ve asked me on April 9th, 2016 where I saw myself in a year, I could never have imagined where I am right now ever being an answer to that. My answer would’ve been somewhere along the lines of “finishing my second semester as a Music Education major in college and with my amazing boyfriend”. Never in my life did I think I’d be in the Netherlands, taking a gap year from school, and single. Not on April 9th, 2016 anyway.

Now, just because I said I never thought I’d be here, doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing. I may not have my boyfriend anymore, and yeah- it took me incredibly long to figure out how to be okay again- but I did, and I’m better than before. I am so thankful for the memories I was able to share with him, for the part of my life that he was… But it was without him that I learned to truly love myself. I have the best friends anyone could ask for. They go out of their comfort zones to make sure I’m okay… rescuing me from the side of the road when I slid on ice, telling me I’m amazing and encouraging me, and just being the helpful amazing people you are. I couldn’t thank Lauren, Kat, and Alex enough for always being my best friends. I may not be in college, or even in America for that matter, but that doesn’t stop me from realizing that being in the Netherlands can be an amazing experience. I’ve done so much that other people my age would never have been able to, I’ve seen family I haven’t seen since I was a little older than a toddler, I’ve done a bunch of really fun things, and I’ve definitely brushed up on my ability to speak the language.

17887281_1461715460536342_947202505_o

Oh, and of course Simba is here as well. He’s the little lion that started all of this, why wouldn’t he be?

In summary, I suppose I do kind of miss the idea of where I thought my life was going. But everything happens for a reason, and sometimes life’s just about riding it out and finding exactly what that reason is. There’s no shame in changing majors, re-thinking your friend group, cutting toxic people out of your life, or even completely changing who you are. Be you, be confident, break out of your shell.

A year ago today, I wouldn’t have felt comfortable going out in public and showing enthusiasm for something no one around me had enthusiasm for. Yesterday, at the Day of Music, I realized I no longer cared. I was happy to be doing improv and singing and being excited about music again, and I didn’t care that everyone around me thought the leaders of the workshop were completely insane for being so energetic. It was an amazing experience, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

I couldn’t be more thankful for the people around me who have helped me realize this, who have pushed me to be the best me I can be. Lastly, I’m thankful for this blog- for being my creative outlet- for being somewhere I can go to write. I’m thankful that it’s helped people and that it makes people happy to read my thoughts. Here’s a little something from that very first blog post again:

These are my journeys, my thoughts, Simba’s travels, my poetry- well, I really just hope for this to be an inspiration to others. For others to find their lion. Or owl, gazelle, octopus, eagle, stork, anything. For others to keep fighting, to find life’s beauty, to be strong.

Here’s to many more years of happiness, figuring out who I am, and maybe blogging about it along the way!
And don’t forget to smile, because you’re amazing.

~E. ♥

Sometimes life happens, and goals change.

April.png

I spent March waiting for April… and yes, I mean that giraffe that everyone’s so hype about. I’ve spent over a month watching April, the pregnant giraffe, and her boi Oliver at the Animal Adventure Park via Livestream.  April GiraffeMy brother is convinced she’s just “trolling” us and she’s really just a fat giraffe. One day soon though… hopefully… we’ll get to see a baby giraffe. If you look at the picture on the right, that’s April. The photo was in this article). Those “things” on their heads are called ossicones.

But that can’t be everything I did in March, right? Well, not really. I set some goals and stuff. I achieved some of those goals. I biked more, I accomplished more, and I was a little more organized. I did a lot of laundry, and I ran the sweeper. I’d say March was successful.

I’d also like to introduce the newest member of my georgefamily, George. George was 8 weeks old when we adopted him. He’s a sweet little bunny, that looks like he’s wearing pants, likes to find trouble, and loves to cuddle. We named him George because of the Looney Toons, when the Abominable Snowman has Daffy Duck and squeezes him… and names him George. We found it appropriate because we wanted a cuddly animal. His hobbies include jumping and eating snacks.

Oh, and back to the goals real quick! I’m on Book 8 of the James Patterson series. My 2017 Goals are still dragging along.

As for the April Goals go, well… Sometimes life happens, family emergencies happen, goals don’t get posted, and you don’t have a lot of time. All this aside, I am setting a couple of goals for April (the month, not the giraffe. My goal for that giraffe is for her to finally have that baby).

There’s not a lot, but April Goals:

  1. Advance in the Civil Air Patrol. Whether this is finishing my CyberPatriot Curriculum, PT, Testing, SDAs, Conference Planning, or CDTA, or even something else. Keep going.
  2. Be organized. Take care of stuff. Mail, laundry, the whole nine yards.
  3. Move. Like… physically. Don’t be a potato. I’m not a potato. Potatoes can’t ride bikes.

So like, yeah. Super well structured blog post from me. In February, Wallpaper.pngI closed off my post with the quote “be somebody nobody thought you could be”.  A Reddit user, u/thatniceguy_, designed this for me, to use as my phone background. I love it so much. The road, the sky, everything about it is brilliant. Even the font. The “B” is so… happy. So yeah, r/RandomKindness is an amazing place, and I’m so genuinely happy with this wallpaper. If you have any interest in doing something nice for someone, I’d highly recommend the Subreddit, you really have no idea how much a small gesture, like a wallpaper, could mean to someone.

I’ve had a headache for about a week now, but I’m hanging on. Hopefully I’ll feel better soon, and hopefully April calms down. I’m going to a day of music thing tomorrow, where I get to play music with a bunch of musicians from around the Province. It’ll be nice. I’m kind of excited for it, but also super nervous. I don’t know what to expect, and that always gets to me. I always overthink, but it will be okay. I’m going to have an amazing time.

Keep on being kind to one another.

-E. 

2017 Goals, the third one.

Beware the Ides of March! Cinco de Mayo! Daylight Savings Time! Pi Day! St. Patrick’s Day!

march-paint

I also totally just learned that March was the first month in Roman times. You know, that totally explains why SEPTember is “7”, OCTOber is “8”, and DECember is “10”. Epiphanies are fun.

So, something something February went fast and let’s review the goals! (From this post)

My Goals for February 2017

  1. Make a physical schedule. Use paper, a whiteboard, anything. Write down when what trash needs taken out. Write down important times, such as when my brother needs picked up from school. Write down my plan for a daily schedule; wake up at a set time, shower, participate in life, do the dishes nightly, etc.
  2. Go for bike rides.
  3. Talk more Dutch. Become comfortable. Perfect Dutch grammar.
  4. Work out most-daily. Do at least 40 sit-ups at some point in the day.
  5. Practice cornet at least three times a week.
  6. Become more organized. Find sticky notes and routinely check my to do list. This one sort of ties into Goal 1.
  7. Do my hair and nails more often.
  8. Clean my worn earrings more often.
  9. Continue eating healthy.
  10. Keep my room clean.

Let’s break it down and see how it went.

  1. I used my whiteboard and made a schedule. I wrote my to-do list on it, and I actually did it. I made a phone call I’d been dreading, and I’d say goal one went well.
  2. My bike is one with the shed. I will disturb it if I remove it now.
  3. I have talked more Dutch. I’ve gone grocery shopping by myself, and ordered food, and talked about band stuff. I’d say I accomplished the talking more. Perfecting the grammar might take a while, though.
  4. The first week I did this, but then I got sick and I just wasn’t having it. I miserably failed at this goal.
  5. I took it out of its case once? But I did listen to the music. That’s a step.
  6. I DID GOAL SIX I FOUND STICKY NOTES AND EVERYTHING
  7. I’d say I accomplished this goal. I’m actually putting my hair in a pony tail and stuff  now and not just letting it hang everywhere. So.
  8. Yep. I clean them almost nightly.
  9. I really just need to eat more and on a schedule. My eating habits are a wreck.
  10. Shhhh. It’s the laundry room. No one has to know it’s actually a bedroom. (No really, other than the two piles of laundry, it’s clean).

I’d say February went alright. I did a lot of stuff I’d been putting off. I did stuff I was nervous about. I even completed another promotion in the Civil Air Patrol. I started off watching a lot of NCIS, but then I started reading more. I’m almost finished with book three of the James Patterson series from my 2017 Goals. Hydration has been going well also, I just can’t slack off now.

So now, the moment I’ve also kind of been procrastinating. March goal setting. I’m really running out of ideas. This seemed a lot easier in January when I had a bunch of big plans and all that for the new year. Let’s try anyway.

My Goals for March 2017

  1. Call the driving school and schedule a drive. Follow through with it.
  2. Exercise more. Whether this is push-ups, sit-ups, biking, walking, running, even the exercise ball. DO IT.
  3. Keep up on my laundry.
  4. Procrastinate less.
  5. Regularly run the vacuum cleaner in the whole house (including my room/the attic).
  6. Keep my desk and night stands clean and organized.
  7. Keep my whiteboard updated and follow through with things written on sticky notes.
  8. Write things down right away, such as dreams or groceries we need. Do not forget them.

This is a relatively short post because I’m exhausted, even though it’s 2:50 p.m.

I promised my brother he could play Scrap Mechanic, so I guess I’m handing over my laptop, as well. Let’s hope for a marvelous March. I’ll post again soon.

Keep smiling.

Yours truly,

-E. ♠

History Has Its Eyes on You

There’s this pile of books that lives on my nightstand. There’s four hardcovers on the bottom and seven paperbacks on top. Let’s look through them.

We start with a paperback book, the texture has always been my favorite. There are marbles on the cover. It’s signed by five people, and has my name scribbled in the top left of the inside cover. There’s a poem by Winifred C. Marshall and a picture of our school buses in the middle of the first page. Turn to page 38. Room 36, Grade 2. I’m the picture on the top right. Everything is black and white, but the stripes on my sweater show that I was wearing something colorful. My eyebrows show I’m happy… but I’m not necessarily smiling. My hair is thin district-clipart-dt67gdnt9and my bangs are parted to the left. I’m in the same row of pictures as my teacher. My teacher is an amazing woman, she taught me to love reading, and to love the English language. She is my favorite teacher. She taught me how to be an American. She taught me the Pledge of Allegiance. She taught me how to walk up to someone and be their friend. She taught me how to spell “friend”, because when you’re a friend, it’s until the end. She had help though, I had a tutor. I wish I remembered her name, I’d love to thank her. The tutor taught me how to read in English. She spent so much time with me, until I not only got it, but loved it. At the end of the year, she would give me a jump rope. I loved that jump rope until it broke 5 years later.

The next book has the same texture. It’s green with paint splatters, this time. If you open it, you’ll notice right away that this one is in color. Turn to page 37. Room 120, 3rd Grade. The fourth picture in the second row is me. I’m smiling and my eyes are sparkling. Red is really my color. This year, my teacher isn’t in the same row of pictures as me. She is wearing a reddish-orange color, though. Red is her color, too. She continued to grow my love for reading. I would sit on the ground in her classroom next to the most bullied kid and read Magic Treehouse books with him. She taught me how to make new friends, since none of my friends from the year before were in my class. She also taught me how to handle being picked on by stupid boys that kick you under the desk.

Book three is the last of the beloved texture. I think it was an Elementary school thing. I always had an appreciation for the first line of the poem in this one. “Children need to learn more than lessons in a book; they need to learn the deeper things that people overlook”. Fourth grade was just that. Honestly, I don’t remember too much about my teacher. She was known for how loud she sneezed, and many people were afraid of her. It was the first year we had lockers and two teachers. My second teacher was pretty cool, and I started loving science because of her. She had really poofy bleach blonde hair, and I loved it. But best of all, fourth grade was when I finally had a class with someone who eventually turned out to be my best friend from school. He still is to this day. I’ve even blogged about him; Ky. The one who drove his car into the lake. The one I saw at Tuba Christmas and went to eat with the day I was back in America. That year, in fourth grade, he’d come over to my house and we’d hang out. One time we made Christmas gifts for his little sister. It was sweet. Turn to page 26. There’s me, next to Ky in the second row. I’m smiling and wearing a pink shirt. He’s looking at the camera, and I’m just impressed there’s a picture of him.

The next book is brightly colored, there’s blue and pink and orange. I have always loved the color combinations. They make me happy. They’re cheerful colors. It’s the first Middle School book. If you open it, you see teachers signed the front cover, along with my best friend at the time. The rest of my friends signed the back cover. I was picky. This was the first year they sorted our pictures by grade and not teacher. I’m the first of two pictures with pink backgrounds on page 31. I thought I was so cool for that. It wasn’t the default gray background. The green just looked weird. And blue was also looked down upon for some reason. I’m wearing a black dress with a red trim, with a red choker necklace. my hair is half up, half down. I can tell it was probably the most effort I put into picture day to that point in time. I’m in a few other pictures- fifth grade chorus, fifth grade band, and Spelling Bee. I joined band and started playing trumpet in fifth grade. I was almost a trombone player, but I’m glad someone changed my mind. My teachers were known as “The O Team”, because both of their names started with the letter “O”. Fifth grade was also my first experience with a male teacher. At first I thought it was super weird, but he quickly turned into one of my favorite teachers, even allowing me to take home our tadpoles after the year ended. There were five of them, and they were named Chubbs, Bob, Splash, and two others that will be edited in to this post as soon as I found where I wrote it down… (I’m sorry tadpoles, I loved you and I failed you). Mr.O taught math and science, and he was a great teacher. I loved math because of him.

The next book has blue paint splatters and signatures of friends everywhere on the inside. There haven’t been poems since Elementary School, since the 8th Graders now did the yearbook. I don’t think the average 8th Grader liked poetry. If you page through the book starting at the back, you’ll see me a few times. Drama Club, Student Council, Spelling Bee, 6th Grade Band, and 6th Grade Chorus. Page forward to page 21, but try to ignore the backgrounds of the pages. They’re pretty bad. In Sixth Grade, I am the only one on my page with a pink background. I felt pretty good about that. I’m wearing a dress, but you couldn’t tell by the picture. My hair is down, and I’m wearing hoop earrings to school for the first time ever. A few of the girls had started wearing makeup, but not me. My teachers were both females, and their names both started with H. There was a clever cheer for our classes they came up with that I wish I could remember. I loved both Mrs.H-s. Literacy and Social Studies were great, doing projects like “Flat Stanley” where I sent a flat paper cutout of myself to the Netherlands for my grandparents to document and making miniature cities for Social Studies. Math and Science were fun too, and my favorite project was dressing up as our favorite scientist and acting as them for a day. We would also give a report. I was Christa McAullife, to express my love for space and the Challenger. Another fond memory is the time our classroom flooded and all our posters got wet. Everyone was overjoyed, because nothing “exciting” ever happened.

My Seventh Grade Yearbook is my favorite Middle School design. It’s white with the year on it in graffiti style. The first thing I notice when I open it is my science teacher’s signature. He did more than sign the book, he wrote a paragraph for me too. He opened with “Mon Ami” instead of my name, like he normally would. We’d have conversations in French. He’s also one of my favorite teachers, right up there with my Second Grade teacher. He gave me my love for weather. He allowed me to take apart an old dionysus_33cell phone for a project. He encouraged me to learn more, to keep doing what interested me. Also in Seventh Grade, I learned about my interest in Greek and Roman Mythology and other mythos from my Literacy teacher. I did a presentation on Dionysus, and he’s been my favorite mythological person since. Everyone else picked Aphrodite or Zeus, nah, not me. I dressed up as Dionysus, wearing a sheet, carrying grapes, acting, the whole nine yards. For picture day I wore my favorite outfit at the time, a black tank top with peace signs and paint splatters, covered by a long sleeved blue blouse type thing. My hair was just above my shoulders, the first time in my life I’d ever cut it short. I had a gray background this year, along with almost everyone else on page 14.

The last paperback yearbook in my collection is Eight Grade. It’s solid blue, with a picture of the school on the front cover. They tore it down after that year. The school that is, not the cover design. I’m right there in page 6, the first one in the second row. I have a blue background this year, but my shirt is pink. My necklace is a treble clef and I’m wearing a black headband. I consider this to be one of my most awkward school pictures. Flipping through pages of the yearbook, I’m in a few. There’s a picture on page 3 that was taken in my Literacy and Social Studies class, that happened to be a joined class. It was a very fun class, and I loved the teacher’s teaching style. It was my first real experience with a more “relaxed” classroom. It was also super fun to make forts out of the manila folders we used to separate ourselves while taking a test. I was in 8th Grade Band, Drama Club, Student Council, Science Fair, Track, and I played Taps for Veterans Day. Then you come to the cover, all the signatures. A bunch of friends saying they’d call me over the summer, the class “fuckboy” saying he’s loved me all this time, and two teachers. One, my math teacher and track coach. The other, my science teacher and student council director. Let’s call her “Mrs.A”. Mrs.A was one of the few people to sign on the inside of the front cover. In fact, it was only her, my health teacher, and two close friends. Mrs.A is another one that’s up there for favorite teacher. I was absolutely what you’d describe as her teacher’s pet. She continued to fuel my love for science, letting me study weather and space whenever I wanted and she could somehow implement it into her lesson plan. She described me as “highly motivated, enthusiastic, and very dependable” in my yearbook. “Stay happy and best wishes to you always. Mrs.A”. She was a fantastic teacher. She retired the next year, along with our Principal who would grill hot dogs for the entire school right outside the cafeteria.

High school yearbooks are a little different. They’re hard cover, and they cost around $70. The designs are also much better, and you can actually read everything on every page. Consider this a little shout-out, High School yearbook staff. Although you never really knew I existed, you guys were pretty cool.

Freshman year, I was the last picture on page 43. I wore a teal colored shirt and a matching choker. I scrunched my hair (I can still smell the mousse) and wore a pink checkered bow in it. It’s a pretty good picture. Freshman year I went through a lot outside of school, which I’m sure I’ll eventually dedicate a post to. Everything at school helped me a lot, though. From my teachers to my extra-curriculars. I lettered in track running the mile and two mile, learned that I love marching band, did really well playing a trumpet solo, acted as a man in drama club, and was an active part of Fellowship of Christian Athletes, Students Against Destructive Decisions, Ecology Club, and Future Teachers of America. My teachers were nice, I had many different teachers since High School teachers specialize in the subject they teach. A notable one though, was Engineering. I was introduced to Project Lead the Way at the end of 8th Grade, and knew I *had* to take that course. Our teacher had a very unique teaching style. He was very relaxed. In all honesty, we didn’t actually follow the curriculum at all. We made mini weapons of mass destruction. We ate bacon bits. We designed things in CAD/Inventor. He was more of our friend than our teacher. He only ate blue M&Ms. My science teacher stands out, too. Not many people liked him because he was old fashioned, but he taught me how to handle failure. He high-fived me when I got an “F” on one of his tests. Many people hated him for that, but few looked at what the deeper meaning was. He wanted to encourage us to keep learning about that topic, to learn to like it- or at least understand it. He wanted to inspire you to have a happiness about learning whether you got an F or an A. He sure did that. I also want to say thank you to my Algebra teacher, she would talk to me about everything. She listened to me. I’d often miss my bus just because I was talking to her after class. I just wish I remembered the name of the student teacher from health class. She played Fireflight for us, and she was a cool person.

Sophomore year, I was the last girl pictured on page 42. I was wearing a long sleeved purple shirt and my treble clef necklace. My hair was a little below my shoulders, showing how slowly my hair would grow. The thing I notice about this picture though, is that I look confident. I’m smiling brightly and my body looks relaxed. I made it into Wind Ensemble, played another good trumpet solo, lettered in track again, and stayed active in all of the clubs I mentioned before. Sophomore year was a great year, and I think I have my teachers to thank for that, particularly Biology, English, US History, and Engineering. My biology class was very small, it was an honors class of about ten people including myself. In this class, I started feeling confident. I started going by the shortened version of my name. The projects we did were so much fun. The teacher really knew how to reach out to her students and show them how to love what they did. She is now the assistant principal of the Middle School, and she’s doing a great job. My English teacher was really the first teacher that sparked that love for reading in class again, the first since third grade. I felt comfortable in her room. The windows and the temperature and the lighting were just right. I was relaxed in her room. Then, US History. Did I hate the map quizzes and Document Based Questions? Absolutely. I was never too big on that class. Maybe Hamilton should’ve came out sooner. So what’s my point? Just like my biology teacher, he knew how to make you love what you were doing even though you deep down couldn’t find any motivation even if you tried your hardest. Lastly, there was Engineering. We had a different teacher this year. She was, in my eyes, amazing. The rest of the class hated her because she actually taught from the curriculum. Yeah, there were wayyyy too many PowerPoints, but that doesn’t make me hate a teacher. That makes me want to change the way PLTW teaches. The teacher was fantastic. She’d listen to me and encourage me and be my mentor when I needed one. She pushed me to be the best me I could be. I don’t think I can ever thank her enough.

Junior year. I’m the first person in the last row on page 33, the one wearing a white v-neck and a flannel. My hair still barely grew. That’s about the only picture I’m in from that year. I’m in a robotics team picture, since that’s the year we started robotics and I provided all of the pictures. I’m not in any other robotics pictures because I took them all. I’m not in any other pictures otherwise because I spent Junior year at the county career and technical center. I studied Engineering for 2 and a half hours a day. The rest of the day were my academics, which consisted of Algebra 2, Chemistry, and College in High School English. My English teacher was incredible, she inspired me to start writing again. This was written in her class, as well as this and this. One of my fondest High School memories is getting to throw a paper plate of whipped cream in her face. It was pretty great. Another fond memory is when the librarian allowed me to sit in the tent that was really only there for display. You made my day. My Chem teacher deserves a shout-out, too. He always knew how to make anyone love science, and he’d make Chem puns with me all day. The two girls I’d always talk to in that class, Cheyenne and Maggie, they were pretty cool. Cheyenne is now a dog groomer and Maggie is a U.S. Marine. I met some pretty cool people there.

Senior year. I went back to my High School. I’m all over this yearbook; I’m even quoted on the cover. My senior picture is on page 43, I’m the third picture on the page. I look so happy, and so mature compared to all the other pictures of me. I’m wearing Air Force logo earrings. My hair got so much longer. I’m wearing makeup. Under my name, my clubs and activities are listed. “Robotics Captain, Debate, Wind/Jazz/Honors Band, FCA”. That sums up my senior year pretty well. If you want to see baby me, I’m the second to last baby picture on page 50. We skipped a picture, though. I’m quoted, with a picture, on page 45. I was asked what I’d miss most and least about High School. My answer? “I’ll miss the comfort of knowing what’s going to happen the most. I’ll  miss waking up early the least”. That’s such a typical “me” answer. I’m wearing a hoodie and my arms are crossed very sassily in the picture. Keep in mind, hoodies are out of dress code.

I’m pictured a few more times. Coding club, honors band, speech and debate, FCA, English festival, bridge building (I’m featured twice here!), robotics, band (I’m somewhere in the yearbook_quoteScript Ohio), track, my homecoming date (from another school) made it onto page 133 in one picture and we’re both in another, I’m next to a giant inflatable t-rex on page 146, if you look for the poofiest dress on page 152 you’ll see the worst picture of me in my prom dress in existence. I’m pictured again on page 159 among other people in college shirts, in my
CU Boulder hoodie (my dream college that’s still one of my choices since I deferred my admission). My graduation picture is on page 164 and it was taken from the worst angle ever. Nobody liked theirs. My personal favorite though, is the giant spread and quote of mine on pages 120-121.

“As a student, being part of the activities it what really makes memories. Playing in the band, cheering at pep rallies, attending plays, performing concerts, taking field trips, and helping with the STEM festival make us who we are in high school. Singing the Alma Mater ties it all together for me- it’s what keeps us together. Everyone’s your friend when you’re singing it on the bus or arm in arm. Those are some of the best memories.”

It may not be the most flattering picture of anyone, but it’s me and three friends arm in arm, shouting the Alma Mater at the top of our lungs. It’s true, those are the best memories.

I’ve mentioned teachers every year, I can’t forget about senior year! I started off my morning with Physics, which was a fantastic class. We’d have donut parties and we’d bring in coffee. But shhh, no one tell school administration. None of that happened. Mod 1 promises. Second I’d chill in lab 119 for 54 minutes. This was the lab dedicated to Engineering. I’d chill with a third (and also VERY amazing and inspirational) Engineering teacher, and work on my capstone project to still graduate from the tech center. Third, for the first semester I had Holocaust Studies. The class was as sad as it sounds. Second semester I had modern conflicts, and it was an amazing class with an amazing teacher. I learned so much (including that the girl two seats to the left of me was always trying to flirt with the teacher). Periods 4/5 were split and I had Wind Ensemble during that time. Senior year, music was my passion. It still is, but I lived and breathed it then. My band director was my best friend. I spent more hours with him and Ky in the band room than I did anywhere in the school. Mr.Band Director helped me out so much. Deep discussions about life with my feet on his desk were my favorite. Sixth period I had lunch, but I’d often skip and stay in the band room. A few times I’d get food and eat in a practice room or the office, but that didn’t happen often. I do miss the school’s home-made pizza, though. That was good. On the last day I totally bought 4 pieces and brought them home. 7/8 was also split, and I had Calculus with the craziest teacher at my school. I mean this as a compliment. She is incredibly eccentric, and it’s what makes her unique. Everybody, including myself, loved her. She made me a balloon animal dragon at the end of the year. It actually spit fire! The bell rang at 12:34 for this class to end, and I’d always loved that the numbers lined up.

Ninth period I had Honors English, with the same teacher as sophomore year. Needless to say, that class was fantastic. We read a couple of amazing books, including “Alive“, the book about the Andes survivors. Lastly, I finished my day among juniors. I took AP US Gov so I could have all 4 Social Studies credits since the credit system worked differently at the tech center. That class was killer, but the teacher was pretty cool. He always worked with me to be able to submit my work if it was ever late and I totally owe him my grade. Again though, I just wish Hamilton would have been out sooner. I might have actually grasped the miserable two month study we did on Federalist #10.

There’s a few other teachers I quickly want to mention and thank. In Second Grade, Miss C was always there to tell me jokes and to make me smile. She gave me a toy frog at some point in the school year and I loved it. I remember the smell of her classroom like it was yesterday. They tore that building down… many years ago. The second teacher I’ll mention… Mr.S, the woodshop teacher. Thank you for letting me chill in your classroom like it was my own. Thanks for being the totally cool person you are. Oh, and your kids are adorable. The music teacher in Elementary School, thank you for letting me copy “Rockin’ Robin” from the book because I loved it so much. I still have the copy, even though it’s black and white and it’s been hole punched a few too many times. The librarian, also Elementary School. Your love for frogs always stuck with me. You were kind when I needed kindness. The library was a great place to go when you needed some freedom. The technology department, for dealing with me when I’d come to your office with some request from a teacher or when I needed advice. The Middle School Home-Ec teacher, for always giving me an extra pretzel, even if I didn’t win bingo. Also for not laughing (or being mad) that time I spilled water all over myself and my kitchen trying to do dishes. The High School Foods teacher, because you always smiled at me in the hallway. You were the light I sometimes needed to get through the day.

Thank you to my robotics coaches (and mentors) because you guys took so much time and money out of your personal lives for the team, and a lot of the time we didn’t express just how much it meant to us. The band directors I had the pleasure of working with, whether it be local or honors band or something else. Thank you for inspiring young musicians like myself to become the best musician we can be… And that sometimes John Mackey is right. Thank you to Mr.D, the Middle School band student teacher that introduced me to Jazz. You ave me the confidence I didn’t know I needed. I was able to get up on stage and play in front of a crowd, comfortably. And lastly… We’ll call her Miss D. Thanks for being a fantastic student teacher in band (even though wayyyy too many people didn’t like you for who knows what reason) and now a fantastic friend as well. It totally makes me smile when you like my tweets.

There you have it. I summarized 11 years of American public schooling in 4,000 words. I can use less though: “amazing”. All of these teachers contributed to who I am, whether it’s to not kick stupid boys back or to love writing.

To everyone that’s taught me over the years: thank you. All of you are amazing people. Keep fighting, keep teaching, keep changing lives. 

I, on the other hand, should probably do something with my life. I’ve had Chicken on a Raft going the whole time I’ve been working on this post. coar-9425

Aaayo, Chicken on a Raft.

-E.

2017 Goals, Part Dos.

February is the second month of the year in the Julian and Gregorian calendars. It is the shortest month of the year as it is the only month to have a length of less than 30 days.

And here we are, the first day of February is upon us. 

January was an interesting month. It feels like it went by like *snaps fingers* that. Speaking of January… Let’s review the goals I set in this post.

My Goals for January 2017

  1. Find a routine. A schedule. A purpose. Normalize my sleep.
  2. Eat healthier.
  3. Walk/bike more. I won’t put running, because I know myself too well for that and I likely won’t run in January. But- if I get in the habit of going for a walk, who knows what February will hold!
  4. Clean up my room and hang up my framed belongings.
  5. Find a job.
  6. Keep my email organized.
  7. Learn to drive in the Netherlands.
  8. Become comfortable interacting with other people in Dutch.
  9. Wear clothes because I like them, not because I want to fit in. (Honestly, I think I can add a scarf to ANYTHING and I’ll fit in…)
  10. Overcome my hatred for odd numbered lists. (Okay, this one won’t really happen. But, it’s a pleasant thought)

So… How did I do? Well…

  1.  I had a routine for about a week. I slept normally for about 4 days of the entire month. I guess it could’ve been worse, but I didn’t exactly meet the goal. img_20170121_142450
  2. I think I could say I achieved this goal. I started eating breakfast on those days I had a routine. I ate bananas and mandarin oranges as a snack. I made my own trail mix.
    Yeah, some days I slacked off- but I can confirm I ate healthier overall.
  3. One word: ICE. Riding your bike over ice is… hell. So no, I didn’t ride my bike. I did walk a bit more though. It’s not necessarily a habit, but walking isn’t so bad.
  4. Clean my room? Check. Hang up stuff? SOMEONE BUY ME A DRILL.
  5. Eh. Sorta. I’m getting paid for things. Like playing solos at a nursing home and restoring computers. So.
  6. Check!
  7. Sort of. I wouldn’t mind it if I had a car that wasn’t a nightmare to shift into first gear.
  8. I wouldn’t say I’m as comfortable as in English, but it’s getting better!
  9. This one’s going alright. I still feel awkward wearing sweatpants because I feel like nobody in this country ever wears sweatpants.
  10. Ha, that’s a joke.

To summarize: January was a “sort of” kind of month. I did watch a LOT of NCIS. Like, dang. It should be a crime how many episodes of NCIS I’ve watched. I’ve also spent WAY too much time with a chicken on a raft.

My 2017 goals are going well, though! I’m decently happy, I did my SDA for my next promotion in CAP (okay I haven’t taken the tests yet but…), I’m usually pretty calm (except for when my patience is tested; oops), I’m hydrated as heck… 11 months to keep that up, I’ve almost finished 1st to Die, and I’ve blogged a decent amount. Holy run-on sentence *breathes*.

So, now it’s time to think of some goals for February.

My Goals for February 2017

  1. Make a physical schedule. Use paper, a whiteboard, anything. Write down when what trash needs taken out. Write down important times, such as when my brother needs picked up from school. Write down my plan for a daily schedule; wake up at a set time, shower, participate in life, do the dishes nightly, etc.
  2. Go for bike rides.
  3. Talk more Dutch. Become comfortable. Perfect Dutch grammar.
  4. Work out most-daily. Do at least 40 sit-ups at some point in the day.
  5. Practice cornet at least three times a week.
  6. Become more organized. Find sticky notes and routinely check my to do list. This one sort of ties into Goal 1.
  7. Do my hair and nails more often.
  8. Clean my worn earrings more often.
  9. Continue eating healthy.
  10. Keep my room clean.

Hopefully February goes well. It started decently… I slept all day. *nervous chuckle* so much for January Goal 1.img_20170113_082319_017 I am actually going to try to sleep, though. As soon as NCIS is over, that is. :p I’m on the episode “Homefront”. I miss Ziva… and I’m not quite used to Bishop yet. NCIS LA has also really grown on me.

Anyway… enjoy a picture of my beautiful view. As usual, thanks for reading. Onto a fantastic February! If this month goes as fast as January did… wow. It’ll be 2018 in no time.

Be somebody nobody thought you could be.

~E.

An Open Letter to the Hurting

Hello friend,

I know right now, nothing seems to be going right in your life at all. I know right now, you’re holding back tears and trying to smile your way through the day. I know you’re trying to take it a day at a time, trying to work with what you have. I know right now, it may feel like you don’t have anything. But that’s why I’m here.

I know I can’t snap my fingers and fix everything for you. I’d love that, yes. I’d do that in a heartbeat. And although I can’t do that, I can use the most powerful tool I have to help you. That is, my voice. So, here goes something that I want not only you to read, but everyone.

Dearest friend, you may feel like you don’t have anyone. You may feel like you’re alone in this. I promise you, you’re never alone. I will always listen to you no matter what you have to say. I will always be here for you no matter what. I won’t ever judge you. I will help you in any way you need- all you have to do is ask. And don’t worry- you’ll never be an inconvenience. Time doesn’t matter. Topic doesn’t matter. I’m always here. Someone is always here for you.

Things like “but this isn’t so bad, so many people have it much worse” may cross your mind. And you know, it may be true that people have had ‘worse’ experiences, but that doesn’t define how you have to react. Your emotions are and always will be valid. You are human, and you are allowed to feel. Cry. Scream. Write. Blog. Post angry tweets. Run. Play video games. Talk to me, or someone else. Please, do what you need to feel. But, please be careful. Don’t hurt yourself or someone else when you do what you need to. I care about you, and I never want to see you hurt.

I promise that you are worth it. I promise that you are good enough. If you’re waiting for a sign, this is it. You’re beautiful, my friend. You’re unique and nobody else will ever be like you. Nobody else has ever been like you. Your hobbies, your strengths, even your weaknesses, they make you who you are. Your smile can brighten up a dark day.

I know right now, everything seems like it’s tearing you apart. I know everything you thought you had figured out just faded before your eyes. But stop for a second. Close your eyes and think to yourself: “I got this far and I will conquer the world. Even if it’s not today, I will. Nothing will stop me”.

It’s true. Not only does “conquer” mean to defeat, to rise to the top, it also means to overcome. You, my friend, will show the world who’s boss. You will overcome this world, and teach it that it messed with the wrong person. You may conquer the world by going to work and making the best custard ever or having a great idea for the network. You may conquer the world by getting up in the morning and finding the motivation to keep going. You will conquer the world every day for the rest of your life, and your life is just beginning. Don’t stress over “maybe”s or “one day”s. Look to the future and see yourself smiling. Because you’re there, I promise. The future wants you in it.

I care. I always have cared and  I always will care. Maybe we don’t know how to deal with it, but we can get through it. I know it hurts like hell right now, but if it’s going to hurt like hell, there’s nothing better than to hurt like hell together, with a friend. Your heart may be broken right now; it may feel like it’s in 1,000 pieces that you have to pick up off the ground one by one, but I’m here to help you pick them up. You’ll never be alone.

I hope that somehow these words find you, and that somehow these words help you. I’m always here for you.

“Yesterday is not ours to recover, but tomorrow is ours to win”

-E. ♥