The Art of Growing


the idea lives on.

I don’t know why I thought I was owed something radically radiant.

I swore I earned it. I swore I deserved it. But then it all fell to pieces, right in front of my eyes.

There was only one thing left to do; and that was to leave everything I knew.

While this was the toughest, and hardest challenge, I had no choice.

I don’t even recognize myself, anymore. And damn, it feels good.

To the Guy Who Wasn’t Ready



Day One

Self love, is the best kind of love.”

Today, I learned how to love my scars.

Every day, for 8 years, I look into the mirror. I see the scar on my face that has been healed. I see the scar on my stomach that has been healed. I see the scar on my leg that has been healed.

“Healed” is a funny thing. They are healed, then created into scars. Yet, when I see them, I feel completely torn open again. I am reminded of all of the mistakes from my past. Not just from that day, but every day. I am reminded that I am covered in scars. Scars from bad memories.

But the thing I most desire, is to see these scars, and to love them. Love them for the lessons I’ve learned, the people I’ve lost, and all the growing I’ve done since that day.

It still feels as if I’m 16. Trapped inside myself. My thoughts trapped in my head, my emotions trapped in my body. The familiar feelings of emptiness still creep back, almost daily.

But today, starting today, I am learning to love these scars. I’m learning to live again.

“I, Myself, am made entirely of flaws, stitched together with good intentions.” 

It’s been five long years since I have posted. So many things have changed, internally and externally.

I have been faced with so many challenges and inner conflict that I find it difficult to express in words. These words are one of the only links I have to myself, anymore. I seem to have lost myself entirely. And with that, I’m still not quite sure who I am, who I want to be, or how I feel.

I want to learn how to love myself. This has been the greatest challenge of any- learning how to love who I am, and my own skin. There are things I know to be certain, and these things help me to grow the best I can. I know my worth. I know that taking what you get, and taking what you deserve, can be two very different things. And with learning that, I am teaching myself to never settle for any less than I believe I deserve. The learning curve is rough, challenging and one of the scariest things I have experienced yet- but I’m learning.

I’m still not quite sure how to arrange my words. All of these thoughts, and realizations, constantly spin around the inside of my head begging to be heard. But I still can’t seem to make sense of them. But I don’t want to waste them anymore. I have something valuable to say. If not for anyone, but for myself.

So here is my pledge. My promise to myself. I will start writing my thoughts down as to not only escape, but to maybe start to understand them. You can’t win if you never play, right?


“The greatest battle is not physical but psychological. The demons telling us to give up when we push ourselves to the limit can never be silenced for good. They must always be answered by the quiet but steady dignity that simply refuses to give in. Courage. We all suffer. Keep going.”

– Graeme Fife

raise your glass.

raise your glass to the girl who conquered the world.

for the first time in my life, i know what i want. i want exactly what i have right now to keep going. i am so perfectly content. happy, if you will. i can’t think of complaints.

I finally feel free. I don’t know what i want yet, but that’s okay. in time, i’ll find it. it’s good to know that i can be happy with just myself independently. 

as for you. as for the past. you are my history. you no longer exist to me. i wish you luck, but not really. i should want to be mature and wish you the best with your life and that maybe you’ll find that it’s okay to be who you are, but i don’t. for all the pain you put me through, you are nothing. you are no one. and i hope you stay that way.

i am having some of the best times of my life. i am me. i am perfect the way i am. i can’t say i know who i am just  yet. but i’m figuring it out finally. she would be so proud of me.

“what do you believe in?”

“What do you believe in?”

I don’t know what I believe in.  I don’t know who I believe in. I believe firmly that a higher and stronger power exists. That is evident. I know that someone saved me for a reason. What that reason is, I have yet to find out.

                Questions, questions, questions. My mind races with nothing but questions. Why her? Why me? Why did I survive? What did she do to die? What’d I do to lose her? Why did this happen to me at age sixteen? I wish I’d had one more chance to say goodbye or to tell her I wish I’d gone up with her too. Things have not been the same, and will never go back to what they were. All I have are memories. Blurry, clouded memories of her and I. I hope all is well in Heaven and I can make it through another year. The pain, the unending pain from that day, still exists. It troubles my days and prevents me from moving on. I’m not the same without you. I still can’t believe you’re gone.

                The term ‘faith’ brings me comfort. Everyone has faith in something. To me, faith is believing without seeing. But what happens when that isn’t enough proof? I have been looking for proof my entire life of this alternate being that will somehow grant me a new life after death. I’d like to believe that if I am not hurting myself or others, sin isn’t being committed. When tragedy strikes, the pain is softened with faith. It ultimately helps to believe in something or someone. It eased my pain and depression to have God to lean on. He made my troubles seem less large. He did this for about a year after losing Tara. But as reality sets in, I’m constantly looking for something to distract me from life. So, God, what am I to do? What am I supposed to do with my life? I think that eventually I’ll find the path I’m supposed to take. I’ll pick the right path with full sincerity. I will know that it’s where I’m destined to be. But until then, dedication seems to be the problem. Until I can dedicate my entire self to God, I won’t have my answers.

                This also brings up the topic of Heaven. Does the Heaven described in the Bible, exist? Is Heaven a gold gated sanctuary in the clouds? I think that Heaven is just a state of contentment. In Heaven, I will be at constant peace. No troubles, no bad people. Everything will be right. My body will be cremated, but my soul will be in Heaven. No set place, no set location. I will be happy. I will be content. I will be at peace. I’m sure the view from Heaven beats the hell out of the view here.