As I…

As I sit in the library of my school I can’t help but think about how awesome it is that I am in college. A place I wasn’t too sure I was going to make it to.

As I breathe my most current breath I can’t help but think about the beauty this life holds for me. In sorrow and angst; in laughter and pride.

As I think these thoughts in my mind I can’t help but think about the intricate ways the brain works. The electricity and power one human mind can produce is astounding.

Until later…


Warning: Pride Can Lead to Happiness. My definition essay.

Warning: Pride Can Lead to Happiness

Although at times the word pride leads me to think about the seven deadly sins, it also brings me to think of qualities such as confidence, ability, and success. To me these three words capture the essence of having pride in oneself, respectfully of course. There were a few dictionary definitions that I found, but there was one in particular I really related to. says, “A becoming or dignified sense of what is due to oneself or one’s position or character; self-respect; self-esteem.” As much as I like this definition, it is a bit too vague. So let’s dig a bit deeper.

First off, confidence is not cockiness, but it can often be confused. Unfortunately though there are a lot of cocky people in this world. Confidence on the other hand is something anybody should be proud of obtaining. Loving the skin you are in is such a special thing, and can also be so difficult to do. Confidence is being happy with the way you look, the way you act, and who you truly are. Just the way someone walks into a room can say a lot about a person.

Knowing and believing that you have the capability to do something is very important. I feel we owe that to ourselves. If we didn’t believe we could do something, we wouldn’t try doing it at all. This also applies to talents and skills. Having these abilities are what makes us who we are and brings us pride that we are the way we are. Discovering what we enjoy doing is an accomplishment on its own.

When we achieve something, even if it is small, we get a certain feeling. Come on, you know that feeling. It is a feeling that is so strong and fulfilling, a feeling that motivates you to keep doing what you’re doing; to keep advancing and improving. People feed off of our energy and sometimes we don’t realize how much is seen non-verbally and through our efforts.  When you’re happy, passionate, and proud of your work, there is a better chance of success.

As much as confidence, ability, and success are separate terms, I feel they all at one point intertwine with each other. With confidence we have the ability to succeed. They are like three puzzle pieces that when connected form pride.


One thing you will learn about me is that I am a horror fanatic, I absolutely love anything to do with the horror genre. As I sit here at 6:45 am watching one of my favorite movies, Se7en, I can’t help but be reminded how brilliant this movie is. The plot alone is amazing but Morgan Freeman, Brad Pitt, and Kevin Spacey’s roles are so on point. The efforts they put in to this movie are outstanding. Such an eerie but desirable feel to every scene, it makes you want to just keep watching. By the end of the movies you’re creeped out, anxious, and weirdly inspired. If you haven’t seen this movie I would recommend it to anybody, even if it’s not up your alley.

For the love of fitness

This is just a nice expressive entry on the world of fitness and why I am so passionate about it 🙂

2 years ago….maybe 3, eh I’m going to go with 2, I can be bad with time. Any who, I was having awful back pain and after 6 months of it my grandma convinced me to get an MRI and a check up. Glad I did because I found out I have scoliosis, genetically acquired from my beautiful grandma haha. Except hers is a 51 degree curve, i’m not sure how she even walks. I have it in my thoracic and lumbar region at 22 degrees and at 17 degrees. She had my Dr, Dr. Shea, prescribe me physical therapy. I never knew how much this would change my life. 3 days a week for as long as needed, I ended going for almost a whole year. I started getting stronger and more confident and decided to get a gym membership. I began weight lifting routinely after ending therapy and I was hooked. I absolutely fell in love with it. I had always been tiny my whole life, weighing 95 pounds at my heaviest. Unfortunately due to certain addictions (drugs) and habits my lowest weight as a teen was 80 pounds, it was not okay. I began gaining healthy weight and noticing a difference internally and externally. Building muscle and gaining some fat helped me reach 120 pounds! I have never felt better, more, confident, and wholesome. Fitness was exactly what I had been looking for, I just didn’t know it. Here I am now, a couple years later, still in love. I am now attending college for exercise and sports studies and will hopefully have my associate degree in the fall, and my bachelor degree the fall after that. There are so many things I want to do in this life of mine, fitness and helping people are definitely apart of that. Health is such a beautiful thing.

If you were to write a book or novel, what would it be about?

I’ve always wanted to write a book, maybe even two! One day I do feel that I will be published, but we’ll see. But If I was, it would be because I finally wrote my autobiography. I’ve gone through a lot in my life and I think a lot of people could relate to some of my life moments and feel comfort that they’re not the only ones. I would imagine my book would target a younger crowd such as teens and young adults. Reading relatable books and biographies was a big coping skill and support system for me. They reminded me that I am not alone and that whoever was going through these situations had conquered their troubles and obstacles.

I also think my book could help people with self-esteem. Too many people nowadays try to be someone they are not. I have always been a strange, funny, outgoing, and kind of weird girl. I always loved it though. I dressed in what made me happy, not what magazines told me too. I was always true to myself even if I was lost at the moment.

Too many young individuals try to live up to these media names when it just doesn’t make sense. None of that is realistic because we are all different. I want to inspire people to be themselves. I was always myself, and even when I was at my lowest, I was still happy with the fact that I knew who I was. I have always had a lot of friends and it never mattered what social group I walked towards, I always had a friend wherever. I know people worry about what others think of them but once you overcome that, you learn as much as some people can be awful, some can also be so beautiful. I never judged anybody for who I thought they were. I give people chances and I have met some of the coolest people just by talking. There is something about fun positive energy that attracts me. When I feel it, I automatically want to know that person. This is one of the messages I would emphasize on in my book. One day.

What would you write your book about?

An Ode to My Mother – The Essay


An Ode to My Mother

I absolutely love tattoos. Ever since I was young I knew I wanted artwork on me. I would draw all over my jeans, arms, binders, and whatever else I could with pictures, words, and designs. There is something about being able to express yourself permanently that has always fascinated me. It was never a question of what I was going to get as a tattoo; it was a matter of when I could.

Now, I don’t want this story to make people sad. Instead I want people to see the tragic beauty it entails of how love is a beautiful thing that survives even after death. At the age of 16 I lost my mother to pancreatitis due to living a rather unhealthy lifestyle. It was definitely the hardest thing I have gone through. Our relationship was rocky, especially due to both of our lack of sobriety. We never truly got to have the relationship we both wanted, but I loved her more than anything. She was my best friend.

Once it reached closer to my 18th birthday, I really started to put thought into what I wanted to do (besides getting my license, finally!). I decided I wanted to get a tattoo on my birthday, now, what to get? A family friend had sent me some abstract drawings my mom had published in an art magazine. Right away I knew which one I wanted. So I planned a party to be held at my house on my birthday, March 1st. It would be a regular party with people, food, and drinks. But it would also be a tattoo party, with an artist who would be there to give tattoos to those who were of age. Everybody had arrived; we all hung out in the basement as I waited for Erik, the artist, to arrive. He finally got there and I showed him to the bench that we would be working at. As I sat there in my blue dress I was thinking to myself how excited I was that this day had finally came. I watched him put down two shiny metal boxes and he started to set up. He pulled out a tattoo gun, some chords, a foot pedal, paper stencils, some plastic packages, and various tones of ink. I had never been so close to tattoo equipment, my heart began to race and my anxiety rose with excitement. He handed me one of the plastic packages, I can still hear the faint crinkling sound it made. It was a tattoo needle, because of legality issues I had to confirm that it wasn’t passed the expiration date and had been sterilized. We were getting serious now. He aligned the stencil on my calf, wet it down, and peeled it off. It was perfect. As I got comfortable on the bench, it was time to begin.

As I am lying face down, I rested my head on my crossed arms for comfort. The party had already started and there were people everywhere. With conversation rising and music playing, I tried to observe my surroundings with only my ears. As loud as it was, I felt as if I couldn’t hear a thing. My thoughts echoed through my mind and all I could think of was my mom and how cool this experience already was. Then Erik asked, “Are you ready to start?” without hesitation I replied “yes.” He turned the gun on; the buzzing sound was almost mesmerizing. I felt the tattoo needle hit my skin and it wasn’t what I imagined. It felt sharp like a sting, as if somebody was poking me with tweezers, but it didn’t hurt. My friend was sitting next to me and we began to talk. I kept trying to describe how it felt, but to be honest it didn’t feel like a lot. I don’t know if it was my excitement or the distractions going on internally and externally but it’s as if I didn’t feel a thing. In between him tattooing he would have to wipe away excess ink with what they call “green soap”. It was so cold, a very refreshing feeling. I couldn’t stop thinking about how happy I was that I could do this for my mother. I wished more than anything I could share this moment with her, but having my fiancé and dear friends of mine around was more than enough. The sound of the crowd kept coming and going through my mind and various people would surround me to talk and investigate what was going on. At one point I almost fell asleep. There was an overwhelming feeling of pride and serenity. I knew this is exactly what I wanted.

I honestly couldn’t give an exact time frame, but what felt like an hour and a half later Erik looked up and said to me “you’re done, you did great!” He was so encouraging the whole time that when I heard those words come out of his mouth I felt nothing but accomplishment. I stepped down from the bench and looked into the mirror my friend was holding and was immediately breathless. It was beautiful. This representation of my mother permanently on my body was just what I needed to help me move on with the grieving process. This moment will be an experience I’ll never forget.