Eloquent as Fuck - BLOG

What Other People Think

9/22/2017

When I was in my late teens, I used to stare from my car, at people in their cars, trying to make eye contact. It blew my mind that there were other people in the world that had as many thoughts going through their heads as I did, who worried and laughed and worked and had a whole life which for moments at a time came in to such close proximity to mine without noticeably affecting it.

It is something I think about a lot now. Now, I walk up to strangers on the street and I talk with them. I have given myself the opportunity to talk with people I would never have approached otherwise. It has opened the world to me in ways I would not have predicted.

I recently received an email from someone to whom I gave a sticker in Colorado. He sent me an email to thank me for approaching and talking with him because he said most people are physically intimidated by him, though he would not hurt a fly.

Imagine that. I guess I don't have to. I have been told that I am intimidating. I don't always mean to be, I could not imagine someone being intimidated by a small woman like myself, yet, it has happened and I have been told that in many different situations, I am a bit off-putting, maybe even scary.

But I have come to something quite stunning. The other day, as I approached a woman, she yelled at me. She told me to stay away from her. In that moment, I had the thought that I could never get as close to another as I could allow myself to get to me. That probably sounds nonsensical. In fact, I am not sure I understand it completely, but in all my interactions with strangers, I have come to see that I am only able to do as much for another as I can for myself, and in some cases, it's not much, especially when I am diminishing the potency of my contribution.

So I think on this. I think that in every moment, I have the opportunity to grow through my interactions with other people, and depending on how I feel about myself in that moment, I can either get more than I could have ever dreamed, or nothing at all.

It is all up to me in every moment.

While that is comforting in a way, it is also quite a lot of pressure.

This is me trying to figure out what I think. I am just short of realizing my potential in so many moments...as if it is out there beyond my fingertips. Want to know what I am talking about? Go to A Love Rebellion! It is a social engagement project I am doing for the next three week. I have been doing it all summer and some wonderful things have come of it.

Share, like, tweet....if you feel the need or wanna help me out.

What I Can Control

9/16/2017

I gave up a long time ago. Well, not that long. Actually, I still struggle with it. My need for control, that is.
Funny thing that, as I grew up with The Serenity Prayer echoing in my ears:

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change
The courage to change the things I can
And the wisdom to know the difference.

My mother, an addict of many substances, was consistently repeating this phrase and buying cheap posters, key chains and magnets with this prayer on it. The irony is that back then, if you had asked what one thing I would change if I could, I would have said my mother. My mother was and always has been one of the most eratic people I have ever known. I mean, now that she is dead, she is much more consistent, but at the time, that prayer always struck me as curiously hypocritical falling from her lips.

So it was many years until I actually came to the realization that there was very little in life that I could control, and many years later until I was able to actually stop trying. In fact, I would say it has been several months since I let that go. I'm 48. Just about.

So in a few weeks, I am giving a talk on The Legacy of You, "Taking Back Control." It feels a little bit like a set-up. Not in a bad way, it feels like more like a test. Like all my life has been building up to this moment, and this is like the final exam. Well, maybe not final. But a big one.

All my life has been constant change. When I was young, so many step parents, step brothers, step sisters in and out of my life, then later, partners, jobs, locations, projects. I have come to thrive on change. If I'm being honest, the stimulation of the new was always a great way to distract me from the pain. Maybe it was my own form of addiction, the stimulant of adjustment.

I don't know if I can be still. I don't know if I want to be still. I am not sure if letting go of the stimulation of constant change would be taking contol, or releasing it.

The thought of it scares me. At this point, it is the only thing that does.

Does change scare you? Or does stillness?
At any rate, in approximately three weeks, A Love Rebellion will come to a close, and I sure could use some help getting to the finish line. If you can spare it, please consider making a small donation. It is easy. All you have to do is Paypal any amount, no matter how small to young.spike@gmail.com.
It will help immensely. Thank you so much!
And don't forget to SHARE.

A More Kind Society

9/9/2017

We destroy ourselves.

When I was 18 or 19, I had a bad habit of getting drunk, going into college bars, finding the best looking guy in there, walking up to him, and punching him in the face. I was an angry young woman then, but luckily, I grew past that anger and developed into a pretty decent human being. For the most part.

We destroy ourselves.

Recently there was a GINORMOUS fire in the Columbia River Gorge. Actually, I believe it is still going. It was started by a teenager who evidently thought it would be fun to throw a fire cracker into the very dry woods.

We destroy ourselves. This is what we are taught. Yes, I was throwing punches at handsome men, and yes, this boy threw the firecracker into the woods, but while it looks like our destruction is external, it is nothing more or less than what we do to ourselves every day.

Once I realized I was destroying myself, I had to take a lot of time to look at why. I saw the ways I judged, hated, and beat up on myself because I was not trying. Or, I was trying too hard at things I didn't care about. I wasn't listening to my heart. I didn't even respect my heart.

There are a lot of people beating up on this young man, whose brain is still not fully developed. This young man who was raised in a destructive society, who was most likely raised to be tough, maybe ignore his feelings. I don't know. I don't know him. But I do know that when people act like this it is a symptom of a broken society, and instead of punishing the boy, which would do nothing to rehabilitate him, we might focus on fixing the society where this could happen.

I have been traveling all over the US this summer with my social engagement project, A Love Rebellion. I have met and spoken with strangers all over the country, and the overwhelming reaction I get is, "thank you, I needed this."

We all need this. We all need a society built on compassion, grounded in kindness, and based on community. We do not have that now. Our society justifies all endeavors through financial gain. This is clearly putting humans all over the world in a precarious position, and at some point, we are either going to have to completely change the way we treat ourselves and each other, or, we are going to destroy ourselves and this world in our pursuit of more and more.

It is pretty simple. But it is not easy.

But if we don't try, whatever we can do, we will destroy ourselves.

So...what are you willing to do? What can you do to be kinder to yourself? How can you change the way you do things so that you are more compassionate with your own heart? This is the best place to start. Be kind to yourself. Treat yourself with love. Respect yourself. It will make it that much easier to do that with the people and world around you.
Also....check out A Love Rebellion. It is getting really great. I am becoming better and better and complimenting strangers and giving them love.

Beauty is Not about the Ugly.

9/3/2017

"Did I ever tell ya that this here jacket represents a symbol of individuality, and my belief in personal freedom?"
"About fifty thousand times."

This exchange between Sailor and Lula from the movie Wild at Heart has stuck with me. I was but twenty years old when I watched this movie for the first time in the theater, so I only had an inkling of the pivotal role it would play in shaping my perspective over the course of my life, but several times a month at least, I think back to this quote and feel as if Sailor is speaking directly to me, and maybe, hopefully, about me.

It was at this time, over twenty five years ago, that I realized what, or rather how I wanted to be. This line, along with a variety of other experiences and events pointed me in the direction of adventure, freedom, and independence. It was a line that would help me see popular culture as an option, not a requirement. A line that would encourage me to be me withhout apology.

As such, I aged being less and less concerned with mainstream culture as time went on, and more and more concerned with knowing and expressing myself. I became more comfortable with questioning conformity and my relationship to it. There have been times during my life that I have raged against our corporate culture, engaged angrily in debate over the maneuverings of the patriarchy, and threatened destruction to the social norms that keep so many enslaved. But I have now come to see that those reactions might have wasted my energy just a bit, because the truth is, none of those things are about me. I am free from the belief that I must be like everyone else in order to thrive.

This is also how I have come to see beauty. If something is truly beautiful to me, it inspires that feeling. If something is truly beautiful, it must be beautiful on a level that opens me up, reaches into me, and warms my soul. True beauty is inspiring, not demeaning, not oppressive. True beauty is joy, glory, an expression of the human experience.

As long as I remember this, it is easy for me to reject things without judgment which are not for me. For instance, I don't read fashion magazines because I am not the audience they are trying to reach. This isn't a value statement in either direction, more just a statement of fact. There is nothing in there for me, and therefor, they are, as a group, one less thing with which I must contend.

I am fully in charge of the choices I make in terms of beauty. If I am choosing things that make me hate my thighs, or my nose, or my life, it is not really about the things I am choosing, rather, my ability to choose good things.

If fashion magazines made me feel fabulous, if high heels made me feel powerful, then I would rock those things. But they don't. And what's more, their existence does not minimize my own.

There is no "right" or "correct" form of beauty for everyone. We all have the opportunity to surround ourselves with images that inspire, or images that denigrate. If you are making the choice to view beauty in a way that makes you feel ugly, you might want to re-consider your choice.

This is why I always think of Sailor. That guy was ridiculed for that jacket. He was, by society's standards a strange guy. But he didn't really care. He might not even have known. His mantra was all about individuality and personal freedom.

There is nothing more beautiful than a person who can rock who they are, stand out, and make no apologies. Whether or not they look like me, act like me, or listen to the same music as I do is immaterial. The beauty that is a unique expression of the human experience is what inspires me.

That is the beauty I choose.

What do you think of beauty standards? Do you care? Do you notice others who have taken on their own version, made their own standards? How easy do you find it, to be you, hairy arms and all?
Share if you think this will help. Like it, Tweet it, copy and paste it.
Also...if you haven't yet...head on over to A Love Rebellion. Lots of cool stuff there...videos, resources and ways to support The Rebellion!

Terrifying

8/24/2017

My dad was pretty athletic, and seemed to love playing baseball-type games with us. Running bases, bounce and fly, anything that would give us practice keeping our eyes on the ball.

One afternoon my brother and I were playing bounce and fly with our dad against the old brick wall behind his antique store, when out of nowhere this homeless dude appeared. I was about eight or nine at the time, and had never really seen a man in such broken down shape before, he was hunched over to the left, limping, greasy black hair hanging in his eyes, lips and eyes swollen, and talking in our general direction as he walked.

I burst into tears. I don't know if it was my fear, my sadness, or my surprise at seeing someone so beat down, but I still remember vividly how terrifying it was. My dad consoled me, but in a bit of a scolding fashion. He told me that this guy was his friend and that he helped him out every once in a while. He told me that I was scaring him.

I was scaring him.

After my dad talked with him and gave him some money, he explained to me the hard life the guy had had, how society wouldn't really allow him to succeed, him being Native American and poor. He told me that most people like that just hadn't ever been taken care of, and that was no reason to be afraid of them.

I re-live that moment in my head every time I interact with homeless people, and this summer, that is almost every day. I am handing out love stickers all over the US, and one of my rules is that I don't avoid people, no matter how rich or poor looking they are.

In fact, I would say that most of the homeless people I approach seem pretty overjoyed with my project, and give more hugs than any other group of people I encounter. My guess is that most people would prefer to ignore the homeless. I mean, I get it, they smell, they very typically want your money, and they very often look like they slept in the gutter. But when you look at them, they usually behave like a kid on Christmas.

It's not that I don't have a visceral reaction to smelling days of old urine on a person, it's not that I am not still a little intimidated, it's just that I can't help but remember my father's reaction to my horror. Embarrassment.

My dad was embarrassed that his daughter was not open to this scary stranger, and frankly, part of me is still a little ashamed. Bursting into tears at the sight of someone is not exactly the best way to go about meeting new people. Even if they are a little scary.

And the number of homeless people across the country is growing. The more that people fall through the cracks, the more they are pushed to living on the streets. What does this have to do with self love? What does this have to do with body positivity? It's that we can't possibly live in a society where so many people are left behind. We can't allow ourselves, as thinking, feeling people, to allow this.

Bussing people to other cities, moving to other neighborhoods, or avoiding city parks is not going to make this probem go away. Eventually, we are going to have to figure out a way to care for people. Eventually we are going to have to accept that these people are not separate from us, they are us.

They are part of the organism we call humanity, and ignoring them is like ignoring that weird pain in your side that pops up when you bend to the left. That stabbing pain that shoots through you to the point that it keeps you from bending that way.

It is not like our society is becoming more just, or that economic inequality is evening out. These people are growing in numbers. The more the "Haves" have, the less for the rest. That is what we are looking at.

Caring for people, even ugly, smelly people, is something that must happen, and soon, politically, econmically, and socially. VA programs defunded, insane asylums closed down, and care facilities that no longer take in and rehabilitate those in need are just some of the reason the homeless population is growing.

The question is, what can I do? I have seen many people and places struggling to help, but what can our society do, a society that gives more to the military and large corporate interests than to education, healthcare, and support for the needy?

The answer is in the question.

"Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired signifies, in the final sense, a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed.
This world in arms is not spending money alone. It is spending the sweat of its laborers, the genius of its scientists, the hopes of its children. The cost of one modern heavy bomber is this: a modern brick school in more than 30 cities. It is two electric power plants, each serving a town of 60,000 population. It is two fine, fully equipped hospitals. It is some fifty miles of concrete pavement. We pay for a single fighter with a half-million bushels of wheat. We pay for a single destroyer with new homes that could have housed more than 8,000 people. . . . This is not a way of life at all, in any true sense. Under the cloud of threatening war, it is humanity hanging from a cross of iron."

~Dwight D. Eisenhower

Political, I know, but it is hard to wade through crowds of homeless people in need and behave as if everything is just dandy. Whatever you can do to help, including treating yourself with more kindness, will help. Compassion, even when turned inward, will reverberate across humanity and change things.

Where it Started

8/17/2017

In the beginning, it surprised me. I would be so shocked when a person who I was speaking with would start crying without warning, I usually didn't even know how to respond. At first, I chalked it up to being from the midwest. PNW people, I reasoned, were much less tough than midwesterners. At work, at school, in my personal life, it was like some kind of dark magic I wielded unknowingly, and for a long time, I really believed it was everyone else's problem.

After a while, I kinda got control of it, and I realized I could actually use this magical power. I didn't use it often, but when I did, wow. It was powerful. I got really good at being prepared for shitty situations with more shittiness. For someone who had always imagined after every conversation what I should have said, this was a revelation. Again, I used it at work, at school, and yes, even in my personal life. The better I knew someone, the more potent my dark magic could be.

Eventually though, this started to make me feel pretty horrible. Making people cry, while handy in certain situations, left me feeling sick.

Then one day I was playing with several kids in the 8 to 10 year old range, and one of the kids said something super mean to the other, and she started to cry. Not just cry, she sobbeduncontrollably. It broke my heart. I wanted to help her, so I took the mean girl aside and I told her that she had a choice, she could either give people a reason to smile, or a reason to cry, and she would have to live with the consequences either way. As the words came out of my mouth, I realized that message was actually for me. The message I delivered to this 10 year old girl who could not control herself and hurt her friend, was actually for me. A forty year old woman.

I realized that this magical power I had wielded so handily would have to be put away for good, no matter how awful the person I was dealing with seemed to be. I decided I would have to develop another kind of magic. I started slow and small, and man, I was not in any way good at it. Making people smile was not something I had ever really practiced, or cared about. But the first time it worked, it was huge.

I was at work. There was this woman there who walked around all the time with a scowl on her face, which seemed to be a foreshadowing event to what she might say to you when she approached. I had always avoided her at work, challenging though it was, as I ran all the service centers at my job and would occassionally break my employees and help customers.

One day, as I was walking across campus, I spotted her coming toward me, all grump and darkness, and I decided to be the opposite. I started skipping. I smiled brightly, and I called out to her as if I hadn't seen her in a long time, like it was so good to see her again. I even waved. BIG.

Unbelievably, magically, her whole demeanor changed. A smile, strange and bright, spread across her face, and she asked why I was in such a good mood. Okay, the smile was more like the beginning of a laugh, (when I skip I look a bit silly), but still, it was a smile, and I told her my mood was due to seeing her. Then, it happened. A genuine smile. It was quite wonderful.

After that, every time she saw me, she smiled and was quite pleasant. In fact, after a while, I couldn't help but smile when she came around. People would ask me why she was so nice to me. She started being a kind of ally at work when people were stupid. It was quite remarkable what one very simple interaction could do to an entire work relationship. After that, I worked in this way, very often over-shooting my goal with ridiculousness. After a few years, I got it down to a science. I focus on having a positive effect on everyone I come into contact with, if I can help it. Sometimes, I slip and don't quite make the goal, but still, this result fills me up and energizes me. This result actually feeds me.

While this story is simple, maybe even a bit boring, I believe it is important right now. We are surrounded by people who are trying to scare us into behaving horribly. We are being intimidated into inaction. We must not allow it. We must not let the horrendous behavior of the few influence us. I know it is not easy. Believe me. I am someone who is so good at being mean. I mean, I have skills that would make most people shudder. But I cannot allow someone to have that kind of control over me. I won't give in. I won't give up.

I have been talking with many people lately who want to hide, give up, or ignore what is going on. But this is not that time. This is the time to fight back. This is the time to muster all the strength we have and believe in each other, be there for each other, and not allow this awful hatred to take us. Hate spreads like a disease, but kindness and compassion is also quite contagious.

So if you only do one thing, be kinder to yourself. Treat yourself like you are the most important person in the world. This alone will make a difference.

After that, practice on others. After that, the world. This is no time to give up on humanity. This is the time to fight for it. Even if it is only showing greater love for yourself. Even if it is only not being so hard on yourself. It matters. You matter.

Please don't give up.

Be Kind! The world needs everyone right now. Now more than ever, in fact! Also A Love Rebellion is in Sacramento at this very moment, spreading love and compassion. Wanna follow along? Go to the WEBSITE!
Also....SHARE! Like, tweet, whatever you gotta do. Spread the love and kindness.

On Beauty in Art

8/13/2017

Here is a quick but inspiring video on beauty in art and the importance of the study of art and what it can mean for the artist.

Faith = Love = Beauty

7/31/2017

Maple was studying a human anatomy book when I approached their picnic table. She told me that she was planning on going to Costa Rica to study massage. Hon Ray, or at least that's how he pronounced it, a young man studying a book on Alaskan boats, was planning on going to the Netherlands to study a special type of boat building. They were both recent high school graduates.

As I sat there listening to their stories, eating chocolate and drinking tea, I couldn't help but remember myself at that age; pained, drunk, stoned, and hopelessly in love with a man for who I changed my college plans to be near. It made me feel so hopeful, listening to them talk about their plans and their interests. There was no hesitation, no shyness. They were both excited for their futures and seemed quite well adjusted.

I kept reminding myself that these were teenagers. When they asked me about my story, I fumbled through a history based on working through trauma; neglect, body image issues, abandonment, and of course, self love. I told them that a certain point I recognized myself in one of the photos I took, and from there, followed my gut for two years to find myself at A Love Rebellion, my most recent social art project.

Chocolate laden and tea drunk, I walked away from the table with light, hope, and love. Full of power and magical loveliness, I had made a connection with two strangers planning their futures at the edge of a lake in the midwest.

As I walked across the grass, butterflies and birds fluttering beneath the branches of the low canopy, I knew that I had been wrong about love.

Love is not about proving, love is about believing. Love is about faith. The faith you have in those you love and those you don't. The faith you have in yourself. The faith you have that all is available if you are open.

How wonderful to come to this with these two young strangers. I had no idea when I offered them kindness what kind of great gift I would get in return.

Meeting strangers is my favorite. Hands down. How about you? What do you do to grow or stretch yourself? What do you do to question your world view? I would love to hear! Leave it in the comments below or message me...and please share this. Also.....head on over to A Love Rebellion if you haven't already and see what's what. It is pretty exciting over there!!!

Recognize and Reject

7/26/2017

Fuck is not eloquent, in fact, it is the opposite of eloquent.
This observation of my website and business name, passed on to me along with an accusation of being self-absorbed, came at the end of one of my most popular posts on Elephant Journal.

I was also recently told in a conversation thread blaming white women for the victimization of brown people everywhere, to "sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up."

There is so much pain in the world, it comes through in how we react to people, in how we feel about ourselves, and how we feel about each other. It is evident with each passing day that more and more people are at risk of violence, persecution, oppression, and worse. But it is no excuse to join in with the angry voices; the voices of rage, of exploitation, of fear.

This world roots for me to fail. I am given a loaded gun every single day and dared to put it to my head. But I will not, and I urge you not to. It is now that hearts are needed. I can see it in the eyes of the people I talk with. They need hope. They need something they can believe in. And every day I make that choice. I can be hope, or I can be heartache. I would rather be hope.

So yes, I believe that Fuck is an absolute in my life and in the name of my business and blog. This is because there is so much against it.

Standing up for yourself and what you believe in, in a meek way does not work. Ever. In fact, I have experienced on more than a few occassions that the only way to stand up for yourself is with confidence, with power, and with strength. Anger, no. Power, yes.

We have all been convinced that people are not valuable. We have been convinced that in order to prove that you are of any worth, that measurement must be taken in dollars and cents. If you are a woman, you are only valuable for as long as you are young and beautiful. This is not a feeling I have, this is a statistic.

This is why there is Fuck in my name. Because I mean it. I mean it for you, I mean it for me, and I mean it for every other person who has been oppressed or manipulated in this society, which includes just about everyone.

It is painful watching the oppressed go along to get along. It is torture to watch people with little education, less resources, and no money get on board a bandwagon they think will save them, even as it promises to do so at the expense of others. It is awful to watch people pick sides in an imaginary struggle that has been created only to divide.

This is why I will always reject this type of debate. I will always reject the blame game. I will reject any type of discussion that seeks to victimize an entire group of people, even if it is at the hands of another vicitimized group of people.

It is time to reject the message of self-hate and fear of others. It is time to lead with the heart, no matter what, and to trust that people are inherently worthy, and that each of us has value.

It is time to recognize that people are worth fighting for, not against, and that love is the only way through this.

Love is the only way through this.

Wanna help? Share this. Copy and paste it on every social media platform you can find. Like it. Tweet it. AND, if you have the time, head on over to A Love Rebellion. This is where you can follow my project this summer as I spread the message of love and hope all over the US. Watch the videos, look at the resources page. Get informed and do what you can. I really mean it when I say it is time to lead with our hearts.
Even if it is just being kinder to yourself, it matters.

No Shame

7/19/2017

It is safe to hate my body. That is why I do it. It has almost nothing to do with my hopes, dreams, fears and desires. It has nothing to do with that strange empty feeling inside, and nothing at all to do with why I feel disconnected.

That's where the real shit is happening. My emptiness, my fears, my desires, my regrets, my resentments, they are all in there waiting for me.

My poor body is an easy target because in the end, it is not really about me. I mean, it is, but it is a safe distance from the stuff that really matters. It is far away from what I really care about.

Then there is the Outside World. It is the place where I exist most often amongst people who tell me I am cute, or too manly, or not fat or thin enough. I get a lot of feedback on that. So how can I possibly address the horror I feel about myself? When I am redirected by the world around me to concern myself with something as unimportant as how I look, and told I can solve this issue by altering myself in some way? Unfortunately, I have to ignore a lot of what goes on. Not in a hateful way, but in a "those are the crazy people over there telling me that a pair of jeans will increase self-esteem," kind of way.

It's like understanding that the fight you have with your partner about the garbage is not really about the fucking garbage, it is about you feeling unsupported in the relationship, which is a much more volatile and scary topic to tackle. The garbage is easy. The garbage is nothing. Just like those thighs, hips, or ass. But, if I address feeling unsupported by my spouse, then the garbage is no longer an issue.

And that is where I start. I understand that my body shape will not bring me happiness. My nose, my acne, my greasy hair, if they change, I will not reach enlightenment. I will not feel more loved if my jeans fit me better. If I live in a certain place, drink a certain type of beverage, or use a certain lip liner, I will not feel better about who I am.

This is the other reason why it is so easy to hate my body. All of what goes into knowing, accepting and loving myself as I am is WORK. It takes guts and an ability to see things that are much more horrifying than an extra 20 pounds on the scale in the morning.

It is no wonder the beauty and fashion industries are booming. It is easier to focus on the exterior; what you own, how much you make, what you do to make it. It is more challenging to deal with my fear of abandonment, my fear that I am not worthy of love. My fear that I will never live up to my potential.

Dealing with real fears takes more work because in order to really deal with them, I have to embrace them. I have to sit with them. I have to really look at myself and decide if these fears are real, or if they are just echoes of events passed.

That's why I have no problem when people tell me about their diets, the work they do to look different, or the stuff they buy to dress differently. I totally get it. It is easier, and let's face it, more entertaining and pleasurable to focus on this stuff. The only problem is that it is not really enough to divert my attention. In fact, after I buy things, change things, or do things differently, I am still left with my resentment. I am still left with my regret. I am still left with all of my fears.

I remember at one point being the most fit version of myself, the point at which everything in my life should have been perfect, according to all the women's magazines...I think...I honestly don't really read them so I am making an assumption here. Anyway, THAT is when all of the demons decided to spring. It was really amazing, actually, I had an adventurous sex life, this bangin' body, and all of a sudden, all of my fears came screaming into my head and would not let me rest.

On the one hand, I had absolute proof that a better body was not the key to happiness, but on the other, all the hateful voices and fears inside my mind unleashed hell upon me. A hell that quite frankly, I am still working through.

But it is all a distraction, because in the end, I just want to be myself, no, not just an ordinary version of myself, but the best possible version, the version that creates a belly laugh, a leap of faith, an explosion of art and science and love and compassion and hope. That is who I want to be, and that is why I fight against the hate, though it is easier.

I fight against the hate, and work my way into myself because I want to taste the sky and swallow the stars. I want to be better than I could have ever imagined, and that person, the very best version of Sara, she doesn't waste her energy hating her body. She spends her energy working on what lies beneath, and in the end, loves it anyway.

HEY! Share this one. It will help. And speaking of helping, I am on a grand adventure called A Love Rebellion, where I am traveling the US and combatting fear with love and compassion everywhere I go.
Check it out. It also contains resources and other forms of inspiration if you are in the market for a little rebellion of your own.