Omg why do I open my fucking mouth

More than anything, I value honesty. I admire a person who can tell me when I’m being a complete idiot, or that I have an eye crust, or that my laugh is horrendously high-pitched, or that I am overreacting. I need people in my life who are going to tell me those things out of love. I can’t promise I will always like to hear it, but it speaks measures about the person that you are. I don’t expect you to always understand how I’m feeling, or agree with my opinions, or find beauty in the things I find beauty in- but I do expect you to be honest. No matter what role you play in my life- whether you’re my parent, a friend, a guidance, or my partner, I have given you a piece of my heart and I am trusting you with it. And more than anything, I feel betrayed when I’m deceived by people who mean the world to me. You truly do have a piece of me that I will never get back. If you continually misuse my trust, eventually I am going to take that piece back. Why would I allow it to be in the hands of a person whose heart I treat like gold?  

So on my trip to Chicago we were given these sheets to fill out for our yearbook, where we nominate people for “Nerd” or “Most likely to become famous” or other junk like that, and one of the nominations was “Most likely to marry first” and I asked Reid who I should put down and he pointed to his sheet where he had already written my name and said, “you.” 

There’s those weeks where life just kicks your ass. This was one of those weeks for me. It feels like nothing has really gone that way I wanted it to. I’ve been so stressed out, there feels like there’s no time for anything. I’ve had so much on my plate, I’ve been giving the minimal, half-ass version of myself to everything and everyone. It feels like this is what getting older is: having no time to do the things you really want to do and coming to the realization that everybody is a douchebag.

It’s hard enough when other people let you down, but letting yourself down and then having to live with that person every waking minute is harder. I am always the one who loves more. I am always the one to apologize just so I can feel at peace. I am always the first to justify other people’s wrong-doings towards me, so forgiving others is much easier than forgiving myself. I take every second to undermine myself it seems and it’s a result of things I’ve put myself through. Sometimes I feel it for a couple hours, other times, for a couple months. I spent years of my life thinking this way and when it creeps back in I feel like I’m breaking all over again. I feel like my mind is screaming and I am the only one who can hear it. I feel like it is so easy for me to start believing the lies I spew at myself. And I think it’s so easy for all of us to do that: to tell ourselves we’re not going to do good anyway so why try. Here’s what I have to say to that- BULL SHIT. 

It’s so much easier, so much more convenient to become a firm believer in your doubts. It so much easier to say “I am not worth the stars so I am not going to shoot for them.” That’s ridiculous. We all fail. The truth is, we always find something that tells us to keep going, keep pushing, keep giving your mind, your soul, and your heart, just when you have convinced yourself of all the reasons why not to. It is so much easier to hide away in your bedroom dwelling on your failures than to get dressed and actually brush your teeth, and be prepared for whatever the universe is going to throw at you today.

No one has your ridiculous laugh. No one has your weird freckle that you think is ugly but is actually really cute. No one has your completely pessimistic humor. No one has the same passion you do to make your mark on this earth. Your laugh, your freckle, your wit- all of those things are you and you decide how your mark is made: either with all your beautiful, gut-wrenching, hopeless fears and ambitions, or only merely parts of you. Your mark can either be half-hearted or whole.