Dating.

Freshly 19, with a thirst for love.

I know I’m not the only one, so naturally, I downloaded hinge. Yes, hinge.

Ugh, its embarrassing to even admit it. 19, dating app? Seriously?

But within this modern screen filled world, I am not the only lonely girl feeling a lack of connection and room to meet the man of my dreams in a cute little bookshop, or a bar, or even at a stop light.

Cause guess what! The cute guy I attempted to lock eyes with earlier at a crosswalk was glued to the dancing TikTok girl half naked on his screen.

The swipe

I think Gen Z may become renowned for some the strongest working thumbs in all of history due to the left and right swipe we repeat hundreds of times every single day on tinder, hinge and bumble.

We place our eyes on the beauty and our fingers do the rest. Placing our bets on a pretty face, hoping the personality will return the exact same promise.

But unfortunately, the swipe ends after a few quick texts.

It may go something like this

Cute guy, swipe right.

Match!

Excitement, a possible message to open up.

Five back and forth conversations

Him: “can I get ur snap?”

Me: “sure”

Moves to snapchat

Two back and forth conversations

Never speak again

(Except for the possible blank wall or half face pic)

The biggest issue with a dating app, isn’t the app necessarily itself, but rather the fact that there is no follow through.

Why would a guy care to keep messaging me, as if i were leading to a real relationship, if he doesn’t actually know me?

There is, of course, the occasional and possible guy who does stick around, but i have yet to find…

If he can’t put a physical feeling to the photo, it’s as if he’s speaking to an imaginary friend. We become a possibility, a maybe, rather than something he eagerly wants to know and pursue.

I also noticed, as soon as things got beyond flirting, the guy would cheap out and ghost. I don’t know why they disappeared. Maybe they wanted sex. Maybe they met someone else. Maybe I simply wasn’t their person. The strange thing is that on an app, I’ll probably never know

Rejection

I noticed something else, something I had not been expecting.

After a match, especially with a guy you really fancied, you build it up in your mind. Maybe the conversation is really good, and maybe you feel a REAL vibe. You tell yourself he is different, he has a kind smile and sweet eyes. He texts like a gentlemen and his voice swoons me every single time.

And then he doesn’t text you back for a week.

All the engagement, the equal opportunity, both being filled so eagerly, and suddenly, its gone. Just like that.

At first you tell yourself it wasn’t meant to be, and you believe it.

The second time, it hurts a little more, but it was good practice, he wasn’t the one.

The third time it knocks you out of air and you start to wonder if your actually worthy of real love.

And the fourth time you feel like a ten year old girl who’s crush left her out on the playground. Rejected.

Overtime, your confidence lowers, your happiness fades and you become a shell of a woman who once knew the girl in the mirror, only now she just the remnant of a saddened figure.

Is the possibility of a perfect swipe worth all the pointless rejection leading up to it? In my opinion, No.

Why does rejection from someone we barely know, hurt so much?

I think the pain may not even be the rejection per se, but rather the missed possibility of finding someone to love. The longing to be loved disappearing once again, that’s the rejection, the missed chance.

Movie Love

I started to release my dream of movie love a little while ago. I had succumbed to the lie that modern love has taken over.

Modern love takes into consideration the fact that we are a generation of online friends, online lovers, ai, and online jobs.

Everything seems to tread back “online”

So within the acknowledgment, I felt the urge to follow along and download the apps.

But all it made me feel was a deeper longing for an organic love story. Ugh.

I don’t want to swipe a thousand times to find my husband. I just don’t.

It’s unfulfilling and ends up working like a toys r us Christmas catalogue where I fill out the toys I want Santa to bring me.

First of all, I’m not 5

Second of all, romance isn’t perfectly picked from a magazine, but rather a surprise party on a random day, just because.

Loneliness

Online dating is the “solve” of loneliness.

We all want connection, love, belonging.

And dating apps falsely promise us that.

Just because you install it doesn’t mean you are going to meet your husband. Or lover.

But somehow it keeps us coming back for more..

You break up: app

You feel lonely: app

You wanna hookup: app

You want recognition: app

The app becomes a breeding ground of comfort and consistent dopamine hits, it becomes a mask to the problem.

The app gives us permission to hide behind our screens, so we don’t have to face the direct possibility of being rejected. At least in this case, we can hide our tears behind the wall we have between us.

Sort of like a troll on social media… the trolls would never say those slurs to your face, but behind the screen you don’t have accountability.

On a dating app, you don’t have accountability.

Why do lonely people keep returning to something that sometimes makes them feel even lonelier?

We download hinge because we want someone

We want someone to cuddle with, and share memories with.

To go on grocery runs, and road trips and lick ice cream with.

We swipe in hopes of connection

We match on the idea of possibility.

And somehow after all the conversation and compliments and ghosts.

We leave the app feeling lonelier than we had before opening it.

but like an Instagram rabbit hole, it’s a never ending cycle.

Maybe we need to become comfortable with the uncertainty of meeting people again.

You don’t know whether the guy at the crosswalk is your future husband.

That’s exactly what makes it romantic.

You can’t swipe right, you can’t swipe left.

You can’t see his height, occupation, Spotify, political views, five favourite photos and whether he likes travel.

You just have to say ‘hello.’

Thank you for being here, bye <3

I’d love to hang out again, subscribe for more!

thankyou for reading ‘normal women.’

Subscribe for $5 a month to access the club.

Love ya!

Lately I’ve been thinking about…

Independence.

Moving out

On a random Saturday in June, I decided to open indeed; a job site people in need of employment urge to, in desperate need of money. Aka me.

I sat In a black leathery chair, as my mom signed papers and documents in a modern and minimalistic car dealership.

I came across the listing, the one that altered everything in my life:

“Nanny needed for a 2 year old boy.”

Immediately, I knew this was made for me. I was in search of a unique summer job, and wanted to test out nannying more. So I dove deeper.

5.5hrs from home, on a horse ranch, taking care of a 2 year old boy.

Perfect!!

On Monday, I sent in my application.

On Tuesday, they requested an interview.

On Wednesday, we had the interview.

On Saturday, I was offered the job.

By Thursday the next week, I was in my car, my mom in hers, driving 5.5hrs up a long road, to a place neither of us had been.

Read more

Lately I’ve been thinking about…

Love.

I haven’t written in a long time.

Maybe it’s because I don’t have anything to say.

But that’s funny, because I say way too much every single day.

Maybe it’s because writing feels different. Speaking lets words disappear the moment they’re said. Writing asks you to leave them somewhere someone else might find them.

I moved out a month ago, and it’s been anything but dull.

It’s been a roller coaster… up and down and everything in between.

I decided that during this time I would write a book, so I’ve been journalling every day.

Within my journalling, I seem to write a lot about the word love.

What does it mean?!

How does it feel?

How do you find it?

Read more

Lately I’ve been thinking about…

Perspectives from other teen girls.

The other week I put together a Google form, asking several girls to tell me their story. Through this vulnerable prompting, so many girls stepped up and shared their truth.

Today, Lily, will be sharing.

Normal women is a space for words to be spoken, stories to be told, women to feel heard and ideas to be expanded.

Here is a new perspective…

Tell me your story: (This could be about love, loss, heartbreak, family, loneliness, identity, friendships, body image) Anything that impacted, changed you, or just tell me a story about who you are!

Hi, my name is Lily and I'm 18yrs old. There is so much I can tell you about, I often feel lonely, I struggle with body image. And anxiety has caused a multitude of issues. I'm a procrastinator, over thinker and a perfectionist, and my biggest fears are judgment and failure. These things often stop me from being who I want to be and doing what I want to do.

Loneliness

Lily: Loneliness is such an awful feeling, I find myself feeling guilty for being lonely because I have such a beautiful, supportive and caring family. But sometimes I crave a love that comes from someone that has no relation to me, someone that chooses to spend they're time with me because they want to.

I left school halfway through grade 6 and I think that was definitely the best decision for me, I had no friends there and I hated every single moment I spent there. I do wonder sometimes though, if I had stayed, would I have made any friends?

A note from Jess:

I relate to the piece about ‘if I had stayed at school, would I have made any friends?’ And its interesting, lily, after I left high school in grade 10, I lost connection to my old friendships. But in grade 12, almost 18, I began reconnecting with girls I knew mildly in school, one day, we hung out and continued to. No pressure from the school cliques and dynamics, just genuine friendship.

In school, its hard to connect with the majority of people, and make lifelong friends. Often, this is due to the fact that we are struggling internally, experimenting, uncertain, anxious, etc. But once we leave the school environment and enter the real world, we have the opportunity to embrace the people we want to be, which leaves room to explore new friendships.

If you would have stayed, of course, you likely would have made friends, but the real question is, would they have been the right friends for you? Probably not. Oftentimes, people we are friends with in school, don’t stay that way when it’s over.

Body Image

Lily: I feel that because I've never really not felt lonely, I tend to get attached to people too quickly. Someone will do or say something nice and suddenly it's all I think about, and the only thing I want is to be around that person.

I then realize they were just being a nice person and that interaction didn't mean that much to them. I'm still learning to not get attached too quickly to people I've potentially just met, but it can be difficult at times.

Loneliness tends to make you doubt yourself a lot as well, which brings me to my Insecurities. I started started feeling insecure about myself and my body around the age of 16, so two years ago, but it's unfortunately gotten worse since then. I find myself checking my body in the mirror multiple times a day to see how flat my stomach is and how big my thighs are. I'm a naturally slim person but being insecure can makes you see flaws that aren't necessarily there.

It's not just my physical body I pick apart, I also wonder sometimes whether the reason for my lack of friends is my personality. I have a very outgoing, bubbly and I guess you could say crazy personality, and to be honest I love that about myself but I do worry that other people might think of me as too much or immature. That's a really hard thought to process.

A note from Jess:

This is something I know all too well. I think a lot of girls will relate to the feelings you are naming.

There is something so beautiful about embracing your own personality.

To some people your bubbly and ‘crazy’ personality as you say, will to some people, be perceived as ‘too much.’ But to others, the right people for you, will love the fact that you don’t shy away from your truth.

The world needs people who are colorful and outgoing and real, especially with social media and the ‘perfection’ we are displayed day after day. Please don’t change who you are in the hopes of pleasing the likes of someone else.

Anxiety & Panic Attacks

Lily: I think one of my biggest issues that plays a part in all of what I've said is my anxiety. I get anxious even talking about anxiety… since almost everyone seems to deal with it, that means it's not that big of a deal. I worry people will think of me as an attention seeker just for talking about it, that if I can't control it and deal with it then I'm weak. I don't know if that's a common feeling?

A note from Jess:

You are not weak. Vulnerability and being real about anxiety, depression, loneliness, self image, and what you are going through is powerful.

When I started sharing my story online, I was terrified, thinking;

‘What if people think I’m weak, weird, asking for it, or imperfect?’

But the response was the complete opposite for the most part, I mean, don’t get me wrong, some people were awful, but that’s just life.

But the majority of people felt seen because of my vulnerability, they felt known, less alone. Sharing your story is not weakness, its silent power.

Lily: I'm someone who has to deal with panic attacks, really big ones too. The kind that makes you feel like you can't breathe and your whole body shakes uncontrollably. The last one I had was at my workplace, I got triggered by some teenage boys being aggressive and swearing at each other. I quickly realized that I wasn't going to be able to just calm myself down alone so I went and got another staff member I knew and they helped walk me to a staff room away from customers. I felt like my lungs were going to collapse and I couldn't control my shaking. I had to lay down at one point to avoid fainting.

When it's happening I struggle to think straight and even form a sentence so I like to have someone with me that understands what's happening which can help diffuse the situation a bit quicker. I've had to deal with these episodes all my life so I can sometimes catch them before it gets bad but not always.

A note from Jess:

First of all, I am deeply sorry you experienced that, It’s every sensation in your body attacking itself all at once.

But I also think the way you just articulated a panic attack was spot on.

When you mentioned the idea of having someone around who understands what’s happening is such a good idea. It’s quite simply proof in the pudding, that sharing your truth, sharing the honest and real side within the struggles of mental health, gives others the opportunity to help and relate.

When I was going through an eating disorder, I worked at a cafe.

Near the end of my 8 hour shift, the room started spinning, and I almost fainted. Before I was able to lose myself, I ran to the back of the cafe and took deep breaths inside of the walk-in fridge. I believe it was a mix of panic, due to the overstimulation, giant line and lack of food in my body.

It’s really easy to think that we go through these trials all alone, but you never truly know who else is experiencing or has experienced them too. Don’t hide from it.

Lily: So there's a lot I could add to this, but there's already a lot here so I'll wrap it up. These are some of the issues and feelings I deal with to this day, I'm still learning how to navigate them but I am getting there. I really hope this helps someone in some way and I'm so grateful for this opportunity to share some of the things that make me who I am. Thank you for taking the time to read about me!!

A note from Jess:

Lily, Thankyou beyond words for sharing. You got this girl, You’re never alone in these things. Lots of love to you!!

Lily’s Advice For The Girls Who Feel The Same

I know it's hard, I know you probably feel trapped at times but trust me when I say you are never alone in the way that you feel, being human is incredibly difficult at times but it's also such a beautiful gift. You will always push through even if you have to cry hysterically to get there, you are so much stronger than you will probably ever realize and I'm genuinely so grateful that you exist. I love ya, you've got this!!!!

If you are also a girl who would like to be featured and share her story on normal women, let me know in the comments or send me a message!! I’d love to open up the forms again and do this soon, such a beautiful way to learn more about all the different girls we are and are becoming.

Thankyou for being here, bye <3

I’d love to hang out again, subscribe for more!

Follow me on Instagram & TikTok & YouTube 💫

Lily’s Instagram

Thankyou for reading “normal women.”

Lately I’ve been thinking about…

Becoming friends with myself.

Lifelong bestie

My granny had a best friend, her name was Jill. They met in their teens, and stayed connected until my grans passing at 82.

You would likely call them: lifelong besties.

But what we often don’t mention, is the fact that my granny was the real lifelong bestie to herself. Right from the day she took her first breath. Connected and intertwined, as one.

We often look externally to find a best friend without realizing the original bestie was the girl you stare at everyday before school in the mirror. The girl that doesn’t look as good as everyone else you think to yourself, the girl that knows all your secrets, who’s able to read your mind. Isn’t that cool?

I believe that we have a body yes, obviously, but we also have a soul. Our soul makes up our personality, our calling, inner voice, our receptiveness, etc.

So when my granny died, she didn’t die alone. She was leaving the earth alongside herself. Brutal, and sad but beautiful.

I think before we strive outwardly for friendship, we first befriend our soul. I know external connection is vital and SO IMPORTANT.

But it’s also SO IMPORTANT to connect with our being too.

What does it look like to befriend yourself?

In the book the artists way by Julia Cameron, she prompts the reader to go on an artists date once a week. Which can look as simple as the act of painting yourself a picture, alone.

Going on a pottery date, alone.

Writing an article in a cafe, alone.

She suggests these artist dates are like food for the inner soul, the younger version of you. It’s creative replenishment.

Something that I am trying to practice, is speaking to myself as if I were an external friend.

Let me ask you this: Would you ever call your best friend ugly, fat, stupid, dumb, unworthy, or unlovable? Would you call her any of the mean things you call yourself? I hope the answer is no.

And if the answer is no, then why are you speaking to yourself like that? Genuine question, why?

There isn’t justification for speaking to ourselves or anyone else that way. Seriously. We speak to ourselves, the lifelong bestie like trash and expect the friendship to work… no wonder we feel so disconnected from who we are.

Oh, and also, I am not exempt from speaking poorly to myself. I am one of the girls who treats herself like shit a lot. But this new framing, the idea that I am my best friend for life, I am human, imperfect, and worthy, is lifechanging.

And at the end of the day, its your life, the way you speak to yourself only ever affects you. But might I also add that if you speak to yourself as if your trash you end up treating others the same.

How can a garden grow without sunshine and light? Too much rain will kill the flower… It’s the same with how you speak to yourself. Don’t underfeed yourself from the light that you need to grow.

The flaky friend

I’ve had my fair share of flaky friends. The kind that makes plans only to cancel them 10 mins prior to meeting, the one who leaves you on delivered for two weeks, the kind that makes plans to never show, the kind of friend who has your number just incase their bored.

We often focus outward, ‘oh their so flaky.’

But the entire time you were saying that other girl is a flake, you were unable to realize the real flake was the friend you were to yourself.

I often found myself relying on other girls to fill my cup, and still do.

Relying on someone else to make me feel good, recognized, acknowledged.

All the while, I’m unable to even spare myself a compliment.

Life will always throw you a flaky friend, it’s inevitable. But I believe, if the friendship you have with yourself is strong, and true, a flaky friend won’t even be a question of entertaining.

So, how do you befriend yourself?

Good question.

Coming from my personal experience, you have first got to acknowledge that their is a disconnect within the current state of the relationship.

Like all good relationships or friendships, their are often pillars that align with personal values. I am someone who has made a list of values I want to find in a man one day, I’ve even done it with friends.

So, why don’t you do that for yourself?

The idea of befriending yourself can also help you when stepping into new relationships and friendships that are outside of yourself.

If communication is really important to you in a relationship, I think it’s important that you learn how to do it within yourself first.

It’s really easy to expect everything from another person, but then fall short when it comes from your side of the story. But the relationship with yourself is an equal partnership.

Just like the coming together of two people in a romantic exploration.

Being honest with yourself about what you really love is so key.

I’ve also kind of tapped into the idea that Julia Cameron has, which is taking yourself on an artist date. Today I’m writing an article for substack at a coffee shop I love with a hot and foamy coffee, It’s amazing.

It can be different for everybody, but find what works for you.

The best friend

When your a child, the term best friend is used quite a bit. I used it as often as possible because I felt it gave me extra street cred (lol)

I thought, oh, these ‘cooler’ girls must think I’m more worthy because I’ve said I have a best friend who goes to another school…

A mysterious, special someone who knows me and chose me to take the title of their best friend too.

In all honesty, I’ve only ever had one real best friend, we knew each other for years, and she was me in another font, I was her in another font.

Think, a times new roman, and times new roman bold, and sometimes italic.

As I have gotten older, now that I am 18. I don’t love the term ‘best friend’.

Let me explain…

Imagine you are with a friend you consider to be close with, and your ‘close’ friend invites another friend over. She introduces you both and says “This is my Best friend” And introduces you as “This is my friend.”

I may be alone in feeling this way, but the word best friend within introductions just rubs me the wrong way. Of course, there are natural levels of closeness one can posses within different friendships in different people. However, consciously pointing out that one friend ranks higher than the other just doesn’t sit right with me. Especially as an adult.

I believe there is space within friendships to ebb and flow. Some friends will always hold a different place than others. Your best friend from high school or the new friend you met at work and only see every so often, likely, the high school friend will rank higher in your heart, but that doesn’t take away from the possibility of growth within the new work friend. Stay open.

Get to know yourself again, stay open to the possibilities and ideas that enter your mind. Artists dates, solo time doing things you love, build a friendship the same way you would with someone else, but this time alone.

Within that time alone, be careful you don’t isolate yourself from the world. As you build a relationship with yourself, friendship externally will naturally flow.

Stay patient, stay kind to yourself and others, and just be you.

Goodness me, I know, cringe. But seriously, the coolest girls I have known and met are so effortlessly themselves its really quite impossible to not be drawn into their presence.

With that knowledge, if you become connected to who you are, acknowledge her, love her. Others will feel it and love it too. Your amazing! Ok, love ya, bye.

Thankyou for being here, bye <3

I’d love to hang out again, subscribe for more!

Follow me on Instagram & TikTok & YouTube 💫

Thankyou for reading “normal women.”

This is for the girls that…

Don’t know who they are yet.

This months theme is…

Peace.

I’ve decided, moving forward, each month will contain a theme.

Within that theme, I will include: journal prompts, movie recs, a mood board, and notes to self. This is the little corner of normal women, the club.

The normal women monthly club

In this new era of normal women, you as a paid member, will have access to the new series “all the stories we don’t tell” where I interview all the girls who have a space in normal women.

You will also have access to my monthly movie club, where we can have discussions on our fav films, curated movies related to the theme of the month. Alongside a mood board you can use as a wallpaper for your phone or laptop.

I’m so excited for these monthly rituals we will get to experience alongside one another!! Here’s to a new month of peace and vitality!

Stay tuned for the next club posts coming soon!!

What does peace mean?

Peace can mean a variety of different things from one person to the next. But if we look at the actual definition, here is what comes up:

‘A state of tranquility or quiet’

It’s really interesting, for me, as an extroverted person. My embodiment of peace is to be sharing experiences with others, talking, laughing, exploring.

But in this definition my perception is of such presuming that tranquility or quiet likely means time spent alone.

I think, instead of basing the definition of peace off of what Merriam webster has to say… what about finding your own definition of peace instead?

The other day, I went to a silver jewelry shop and bought a ring, a peace sign made out of sterling silver that I now wear on my right pointer finger. Simply a little reminder that peace can be found in the simplest of places. You just have to open your eyes a little wider.

The prompts to help you protect your peace:

This is for the girls who are feeling a little bit of everything all at once. Once a day, fill in your prompts, write your heart out, don’t hold back.

Read more

Lately I’ve been thinking about…

The act of following your own path.

A bird in a cage

The other day, a blue bird flew into a chicken coop and got trapped.

She flapped her wings, stressed and unsure of how to get out, as people surrounded her, in attempts to help.

She couldn’t find her way out, hitting her head against the nets, back and forth she flew.

As a group of us attempted to guide her way out, she still struggled to maneuver herself out.

Eventually, we decided to grab a bucket, and helped guide her out. She was now safe, and able to spread her wings again. She flew in circles and went on with her life.

For a chicken, this coop is the perfect ground to love and play.

For a blue bird, its prison.

It’s got me thinking about those of us who are also trapped in the wrong cage

The painter in the accounting job, the voice who stays silent, the dancer with a broken leg. Those of us who have fallen into the wrong lane, the wrong path, the wrong cage, the wrong environment.

The garbage man is a musician

We had just moved and had a bunch of garbage to get rid of.

There was an older man at the entrance, maybe 60?

He had a warm smile and a lot of life in him. We drove through and I remember saying to my mom as we drove away, “He should be an actor, I could see him starring a movie. He reminds me of Denzel Washington.”

My mom agreed, and after we dropped off our trash, we had to go back through the entrance to pay, and she told him “My daughter thinks you look like an actor.” His coworker says “well… he used to be a pro blue and jazz musician in Chicago who used to tour!!” (I guess he did have the remnants of an artist in the industry.)

She told me his name, so I looked him up after, and his talent was phenomenal. He could play every instrument under the sun.

Never in a million years did i think a man who monitors a garbage dump would be a professional musician. But that’s one of the most interesting parts of life, you never really know who you’re talking to at first glance.

It got me thinking even more… why is he working there now? Does he like it? Does he hate it? Is it by choice? Default?

What equals a life of happiness?

I believe, happiness is found when you begin following the path that god has paved for you.

But then you may be thinking, ‘duh, oh course, but how do I know which path he’s paved??’

Good question…

While I don’t have a specific answer for you, I believe there is an overarching similarity within this principle that can help you to navigate the question.

I’ll give you an example:

I’ve been the type of girl who’s switched her dream career every couple weeks, as you grow it’s inevitable to switch up and maneuver.

But through all the different idealistic career paths, there has been certain areas in my life with clearer favor than others.

Writing, interest in the body and health, connection, and storytelling have all come clear as things I for one, enjoy, and two, have experienced ease, tension, and favor on. I say tension because sometimes the things you’ve been anointed to pursue are the things that get thrown the most curveballs.

Often times the things that we naturally gravitate toward aren’t always the things that we think we’d be good in a career with. This can be due to self doubt, external opinions, etc.

I think the key to finding the path that your meant to follow, is being aware of the things your good at, the things you have favor in, opportunities that flow into your lap when you pursue the certain thing. And when your gut feels a bit off from anything, take a step back. Re-evaluate and trust.

When you begin forcing something, and it becomes clear that it’s not flowing, it’s ok to discontinue, and start fresh.

An actor

I wanted to be an actor.

You know… the red carpet, pretty dresses, tears on screen, costumes, kissing, life, love, everything in between.

I wanted to tell stories and act them out. I wanted it to be simple, easy, and work out for me.

I signed with an agency and got sent auditions.

I was excited, enthralled, eager. But I never got a role, I didn’t secure the spot I wanted to sit in.

And I lost the drive…

Now, I get it, being an actor is vigorous and intense, most actors do a hundred auditions until one hits.

Often times, for me, when shit gets hard and I miss the mark, I’ll push again and again and again until it happens.

But with acting, I noticed a lack of interest in the topic I was in pursuit of.

I didn’t want to do acting classes, workshops, invest in a backdrop, or a lighting setup for tapes.

The idea was cool, but the act of doing it wasn’t so great.

If you’re able to differentiate when your heart is in it vs when your ego is, that’s where you can scoop out the gold of what’s next.

If you genuinely hate it, and it’s not required or going to impact you or the world in a positive way, don’t waste your energy.

Find a new thing to focus towards, and move on.

If you’re in the wrong lane, you may trip and tumble and fall over things you were never supposed to cross.

Be careful which lane you take.

Are you a sprinter, a cross country runner? Or a marathon or Ironman athlete?

Find your strengths, learn from your weaknesses and build yourself up into all the best parts of who you are and who you are becoming.

Are you the bird who flies? Or the bird who stays put? Both are valuable, but it’s important to tap into which one you are. You don’t want to end up caged with wings to fly.

Failure Isn’t weakness

Within my failures, I’ve discovered pieces of myself and learned lessons that never would’ve been taught otherwise.

When I was 10 I got last place in a 100m track & field race.

But when I was 12, I got a prophetic word saying that I’m a cross country runner, not a sprinter. ‘Along the way, I’ll stop and help others, clearing the hurdles.’

When I was in 10th grade, I dropped out of high school, and last week I got into college and want to become a nurse. ( I can talk about this more another time)

When I was in 9th grade I went on a “date” with a boy I liked at the gym, he flirted with another girl in front of me, it was the last time I spoke to him. Turns out he later became a drug addict…

Sometimes relationships fail, tests get marked and the grade comes out worse than you expected. Sometimes you say the wrong thing, show up late to an important event. Sometimes things fail, go wrong, or don’t turn out as expected.

But within that, the very best thing can come happily skipping along and fall into your lap. It never could’ve shown up if you had held onto the idea of perfect within an imperfect situation.

Thankyou for being here, bye <3

I’d love to hang out again, subscribe for more!

Thank you for reading “normal women.”

This is usually a paid sector of my newsletter which is $5 a month!

Lately I’ve been thinking about…

Aging.

Advice from a 76 year old

The other day, I interviewed a 76 year old woman.

She wore black leggings, white shoes, and a denim button up top.

She had grey hair and a kind face.

Her name was: Shirley

The reason I decided to interview her is because I believe that a lot of women have so many stories that are left untold.

I interviewed her without any prior experience, simply an eagerness to learn more.

I asked her simple questions that she gave deep and complex answers to.

And one of the questions that I asked her was: what do you miss about being a teenager, if you do at all?

She said that she missed the youthfulness and the strength as far as in her physical body.

And it’s really got me thinking about young women who hate on their bodies without realizing one day their body will not be the same as it is right now.

And while that’s not a bad thing, I think the worst part about being a young woman who feels insecure or unappreciative for her body that she has right now, Is that she one day has the opportunity to look back at her life and regret.

And within this moment, she’s blind to the gift that she has been given.

As a girl who’s deeply struggled with body image and self-love, this conversation really hit me

Throughout my time of comparing on social media and against other girls I know in real life, it’s easy to feel inadequate or less than worthy.

Especially at times your body doesn’t fit the exact standard of what is trending in the media.

It’s got me thinking about the way that I treat myself and the way words have more power than we give them credit for.

When I was around 12 years old, I began seeing ‘what I eat in a day videos.’

I started seeing girls vlog themselves copying model diets.

I started doing what they were doing thinking that I would get the same result.

But what a lot of us forget is in order to achieve a certain body, it’s usually down to genetics.

I am a 5 foot one, petite girl.

If I try to look like a 6 foot slender model, I will miserably fail.

And then, if we go a step further…imagine I decided to beat myself up because of the genetic predisposition of my body and the way that I was physically built, imagine that I decided to hate on myself because it is physically impossible for me to look like her.

That’s a crazy thing to do right?

Well, that’s what a majority of us young women do in our day to day.

Talking to Shirley made me think about her younger self.

Was she mean to herself in the mirror?

Did she hate the way she looked in certain clothes?

Did she skip class because she was insecure of her thighs?

Did she try and change her body because the media told her to?

I would say a good chunk of the population has felt that way.

So can we please sit with these words?

These words from a 76-year-old woman saying that she misses her youthfulness and her strength in her physical body when she was a teenager.

She’s not just saying that to make us feel better about our body image. She’s simply speaking the truth.

her words were simple reminders to not waste your precious energy, hating on the one body you’ll ever have.

how do we find love for our bodies?

It’s a very complex question to answer.

It’s different for every single girl and there’s no ‘one size fits all’ approach. But I think the first steps to at least uncovering self love, is simply pointing out all the beautiful things about yourself.

Forget the cellulite, forget the way your thighs may rub, forget your frizzy hair, or the way your stomach rolls when you sit down, forget the lies that you tell yourself saying those things make you less than worthy.

Did you know???

A healthy body has rolls and sometimes we get cellulite and sometimes our hair gets frizzy and messy and tangled, sometimes we have tear soaked cheeks, and bruises on our knees and feet from running too long. Running too long from the beauty that was staring right in front of us in the mirror.

Is aging unattractive?

I think a lot of the time our self hate, or our fear of ageing or getting older or wrinkling or not looking the same that we did when we were teenagers, is not because of who we are, or the false fact that it’s not good.

I believe it stems from the young age that we were pushed the idea of ‘youthfulness equals attractiveness’ and ageing equals ‘Grandma’ or ‘wrinkles’ and ‘less beautiful.’

Honestly, being a grandma would be so cool.

But if you go a bit deeper, it’s also a marketing tactic from beauty brands to then sell you anti-aging products.

I remember a few months ago on Instagram I made a video talking about the fact that beauty brands are marketing off of our insecurity around ageing.

At the time I had a social media agency… that social media agency told me to take down the video because I wouldn’t secure brand deals due to the video.

Isn’t that a crazy thing ?

I silenced my voice about a topic that needs to be discussed because it’s so prevalent as women, just so I can receive some PR products?!?

I think it’s ridiculous.

At the time I listened to them. And guess what? they never actually got me any PR or any brand deals with any makeup or skincare product lines, even after I took the video down.

The point is, ageing is not bad. A lot of the most beautiful people I know are much older.

And I think a lot of their beauty comes from the experience in their lives, that they’re able to pour out to the younger generations.

I don’t look at them and think ‘oh she has so many wrinkles or ‘she has loose skin.’

I look at her and think every line on her face is a reminder of all the smiles shes shared with other people.

Ageing is not something to fear. It’s simply a beautiful gift from God.

So don’t fall for the media telling you that your body or face isn’t enough, it will continue to push those lies at you for as long as you live. But you get to decide how you listen to them.

And I really hope that as a society of young women, we begin to wake up to the fact that we are being told lies around our appearances.

Listen to the older women. Listen to the way your mom tells you, you’re beautiful or the way your best friend says your smile lights up the entire room.

Listen to the people who are sharing kind things with you, because people don’t just say compliments for the sake of it.

I can guarantee you when I give a compliment, I mean it.

And I’m sure that’s the same for a majority of people.

Don’t throw yourself under the bus, you have worth. And you are worthy of love from others and from yourself, most importantly.

I don’t want you to be 76, and missing the body you had when you were 18. I want you to be 76 and proud of how you loved your body when you were 18.

Thankyou for being here, bye <3

I’d love to hang out again, subscribe for more!

Thank you for reading “normal women.”

This is usually a paid sector of my newsletter which is $5 a month!

Lately I’ve been thinking about…

The perfect morning.

I love mornings where the coffee I make is just right, and the milk froths just enough to leave a moustache of foam on your upper lip. I love mornings where the sun beams into the bedroom, lighting up the entirety of not only my space, but my mind.

Read more

Lately we’ve been thinking about…

All the things we wish were said.

Advice column: 01

Lately I’ve been thinking about all the stories we leave unsaid. The thoughts we leave unopened. The dreams we leave unseen, and the stories we seem to repeat if they hit some type of nerve within our subconscious… how we should, could or want to be.

But we often lack the term ‘accepting who we are right now.’

In a day and age where social media is the forefront for our information, how could we not be succumbed to the consistent shift in body trends, sought after lifestyles and fear mongering media posts that keep us constantly slipping off the edge of our toes?

We become tailored to silencing our mouths before we say the truth, while our thoughts run rapid throughout each and every day.

So, I decided to ask a handful of girls that follow me on Instagram:

What are things you feel as a woman that need to be talked about more?

What questions do you have that often feel unanswered?

So, here are the 3 most brought up topics…

Let me know down below what else we’re thinking about!!

Menstruation

So without surprise, periods and female health came up… A LOT.

Read more

Lately I’ve been thinking about…

My purpose.

I’ve been thinking a lot about purpose lately. What does it mean? How do you find it?

I have been talking to several walks of life about my contemplations.

Some traveled to find clarity within religion or god or something of the sort. Others find clarity within living each day as if It were the very last, and others clarity is spotted within giving up on everything and falling into a deep psychological spiral.

I am someone who has yet to find any sort of clarity. I’ve been unraveled and torn up into a million pieces of who I could possibly be. Like who is she? Me? What is her calling in this world, this one wild and precious life? It’s mysterious, unknown, spectacularly painful and utterly foreign when you display certain questions on your purpose of life and where you discover it.

If you ever do.

Read more

Lately I’ve been thinking about…

Adulthood.

I feel like a child and an adult at the exact same time. Is it just me?

Being an ‘adult’

I often ponder on the question, when does childhood end and adulthood begin? It’s a really blurry line to determine a definitive answer to this.

I know, societally, adulthood begins when you can vote, or drink alcohol, or get a real job, or legally make your own decisions. But the internal battle within the adolescent, or the adult as the world views them, is filled with layers of questions without a clear antidote.

I remember when I was in the 3rd grade with my friends on the basketball court lined up to go back into class. I looked over to the grade 7 class, they appeared so confident and cool, grown up, wise beyond their years. They had boobs, and tight clothes, and flirted with boys.

I couldn’t wait to be that age…

But, by the time I reached grade 7, I was no where near the level of cool I thought I’d reach. I still wore floral rompers from Justice, and played on the trampoline for hours and hours a day. Covid happened which left me with online school for the end of the semester. Boys were an after thought. Girlhood was still so young.

I often think about the movie 13 going on 30 when I reflect on this topic. Jenna rink, 13, obsessed with being ‘30, flirty, and thriving’ as the magazines told her repeatedly.

She was illusioned into the idea that being older would somehow feed the insecure itch living within her.

Boobs were at the forefront of discussion too. Stuffing tissues down her top to appear more developed, feminine and attractive to boys.

But, by the end of the movie Jenna realizes that the 30 flirty thriving life wasn’t all it was cut out to be. Her years of youth and girlhood, crying in her mom and dad’s arms while she hung out with her best friend Matt were her highlights.

She realized rushing to the next destination would never create the satisfaction she yearned for in her present. It tugged her away from the moment she was living, right now.

I believe it’s a good lesson for everyone.

For Jenna, her motive to become older, and more appealing in beauty standard terms, was magazines.

For Gen Z young women, it’s social media, it’s the tv shows with unrealistic standards. It’s pop culture promoting an idealistic way of living by the time you turn 18, 19, or even 30 or 40.

The pain point can then occur when you hit that said age, you believed would be perfect. Yet you’re still in a limbo of wondering why it hasn’t arrived yet. Why your perfect job no longer exists, why the man of your dreams is so busy with the girl of his, your body doesn’t look like a Barbie, and you’re not making a million dollars at 18 yet.

Alongside the pressures of your own internal dialogue, is the pressures of all the ‘adults’ around you, pressures of media and trends, and other girls your age doing ‘so much more than you.’

I get it. It’s a lot.

Not only are we letting go of parts of our childhood and younger innocent years. Now we’re releasing the carefree nature of being anonymous in a sense.

Yes, I get it. You get older, you supposedly get wiser, you learn, you grow, time goes on.

But it doesn’t take away the fact that we never truly experienced pure childhood or adolescent bliss because we were sold a fantasy that we would finally feel whole and happy when we hit an older age.

What age do we actually become adults?

I don’t believe it’s a specific age or physical embodiment. It’s more of an emotionally ranged capacity to endure adult duties. I think of becoming an adult like the school system.

Hear me out, the school system isn’t for everyone, yet it’s expected that we all work well with it.

Same with aging. We are expected to move out at a certain age, get married, have kids, and get a real job all by the time we are 25.

But how can we expect that every single individual is able to hold the space to become a real adult by 18?

I’ve battled with this feeling for a while. Feeling as if I were behind simply because I still live at home, don’t have a bf, or a big girl job at 18.

But, some of us emotionally need the space to grow a little longer before we’re a fish out of water, swimming without the rest of the school.

Until then, let yourself grow, and become the girl you need to be, and if that takes a few years longer than all your friends,

That’s ok.

Teen pregnancy

I’ve been thinking about teen pregnancy recently and the emotional toll it can take on a young woman.

At the beginning of her life, still learning and growing and becoming who she needs to be, now forced to grow even faster than she ever would have expected.

I recently took part in an acting audition to play a pregnant 17 year old girl, which was so exciting.

Now, while I may have not gotten this role, it’s got me thinking.

Imagine, you feel the overwhelm of everything that comes with becoming an adult and then toppled right on top is the pressure to take care of an even smaller and more innocent being.

While you are still being emotionally formed.

Wow.

I couldn’t imagine contemplating two lives at once.

As I was preparing to audition, I was in attempts to emulate and embody both the confusion, overwhelm and fear that a young girl may go through during that time.

Within the unknown, the overwhelm and uncertainty that she may experience within that time can encourage the young woman to lose herself in the process.

Again, some of us are forced to grow up before we are even ready to do so.

There needs to be more awareness on teen pregnancy, the pressure within going into early labour of adulthood.

Stepping into this role for a moment in time, also led me to imagine my life in another’s shoes. How vast and complex each of our circumstances are from one to the next.

So different, unique and exceptional in diverse aspects.

So remember, growing at your own pace is allowed.

What’s the difference between being 17 one day & 18 the next?

It’s a privilege to age, get older. I want to first preface that.

But let’s be honest, there is a difference from 17 to 18.

I became legally responsible for myself. Yes I still live at home. But there is a subconscious state that enters your mind.

I am an adult, yet, why am I still acting like a child? I don’t believe I’m biologically pre disposed to experience this nature of shame towards feeling younger than I am.

I believe it’s societally engrained in my mind.

Movies, tv shows, social media again. The influences of media directly shape that narrative.

Whether it’s personally true or not.

So, how do we deal with that knowledge?

I simply believe it’s the act of being honest, open and real with the people around you.

There is no reason to be contained within your emotional state. There’s no reason to hide from the real fact that we are unfairly expected to suddenly become perfectly able to produce a sustainable living for ourselves at 18.

I know, back In the day people were doing all of that, but realize, the modern day makes it highly challenging to become a stable one person household immediately after high school.

Imagine adding on the idea of taking care of a child now.

It’s tough.

Another thing I’ve found helpful, is creating things you feel inspired by:

If you’re living at home, feeling like you’re feeding off of your parents hard work, create something.

Maybe you’re good at art, music, computers, dancing, making videos, writing.

For me, it’s been content creation and writing. I love it. It’s a satisfying release from all the noise of the world around me.

We are not victims, we are bystanders in result to a product of what we were pre disposed to.

But we are not victims.

We can pave a new way, create new ideas, passions and longing for the future. Life is not a one size fits all approach.

It begins when kids clothes become nostalgic and dreams start becoming reality. When plane rides with your whole family become solo trips.

It’s the bittersweet independence within taking the reins of your own life.

I don’t believe it’s a certain age emotionally. Maybe physically yes, you are an adult at 18. But even an 80 year old woman is a girl at heart. Don’t ever lose that child like joy. But also don’t be afraid of getting older. Both are beautiful.

Thank you for being here, bye <3

I’d love to hang out again, subscribe for more!

follow me on Instagram & TikTok & YouTube 💫

thankyou for reading ‘normal women.’

Subscribe for $5 a month to access the club.

Love ya!

Lately I’ve been thinking about…

The Normal Women Club.

The Normal Women Club

I’ve always wanted to feel apart of something.

Something bigger, larger, more exciting.

I wanted to be behind a camera, or talking to thousands of people about life, love, heartbreak, dreams, and being a woman.

So, I started… simple, small, and personal. I write to a beautiful group of people whom I cherish so deeply. Alongside making videos about it on social media too. Storytelling isn’t just about one side of the story, its about the combination of them being written as we speak; like the cashier at trader joes, and the lady who cuts your hair, it’s your school teacher, and the girl with the really good style, the elderly women who’s faces paint pictures of a life truly lived. The barista who writes ‘have a good day’ on your cup just because. Storytelling Isn’t one perspective, it’s a combination of stories all at once.

And that is why I created the ‘Normal Women Club.’

This is a space for my girls who feel deeply, dream big, and see the world as something it is, and could one day be. This is a space for us to grow together, without societies input on our appearance, outlook, or success rate.

What Is This Club? How Does It Work?

Most of my writing will always be free. Think, my ‘lately I’ve been thinking about’ column, and reflections I make in day to day life.

But I wanted to take this a step further, a few layers deeper.

So, without further ado, This is the Normal Women Club:

• Girlhood advice column

• Real conversations with girls about things we’re usually too embarrassed to say out loud

• Guides for when you feel stuck, lonely, or unsure of who you’re becoming

• Monthly drops that feel like something you keep, not just read

The first club drop is coming this week.

If my writing has ever made you feel seen or understood, this is the space where we can come together on a deeper level. This is where I share more.

Below the paywall soon unlocks all the excitement and opportunity to come here at Normal Women. Thankyou, I love you. You are amazing, and I am so happy you’re here.

Lately I’ve been thinking about…

Loneliness, and how to enjoy it.

Loneliness has been a plaguing feeling I’ve come under more times than I’d like to admit. Loneliness wasn’t just experienced around friends, but also within myself. But overtime, I’ve discovered ways to fill my cup, even when I’m not constantly surrounded by others. Ways to find comfort in my own company. Cause at the end of the day, the friend you’ll always have is yourself, so you better learn to like her, or its gonna make everything so much harder.

Read more

Lately I’ve been thinking about…

How much I hated school.

I’ve never really enjoyed school, never excelled in academics or sports, or friendships for that matter. Walking into school everyday was like a stage for people to throw every insecurity I’ve ever had right into my blushing and shamed face.

In 3rd grade, I was unable to find a shirt I really wanted to wear, I proceeded to tare every drawer in my already messy room apart, alongside tears streaming down my sulking face. The idea that I wasn’t wearing a suitable outfit for that specific day of school was too much to bare. After many tears, my mom found it in a laundry pile. She drove me to school, an hour late. When we arrived, I refused to leave the car, but after much back and forth I caved in and followed behind her into the school like a guilty toddler who was discovered to have scribbled sharpie across freshly painted white walls.

We made it to my class, my eyes were puffy and red, and my face had a glistening sheen over the skin due to my excess crying. My teacher called in the counsellor as I refused to step foot inside the class, after 10 walking loops about the school, I went in and my teacher gave me 5 junior mints to eat and distract my flustered mind.

The minty chocolate shocked my system, allowed a release from the tragedy I made up in my mind. I remember later that day, my close friend decided it would be a good idea to tell my crush I liked him to his face, after the unraveling of my secret, my last straw was pulled and my anger grew to shame, as I slid down the seat, I felt pity for myself.

Why was I such a mess? Why can’t I trust my friends? Why did she have to tell my crush? Why do I hate my clothes?

This was only the start of the chaos.

Was it the shirt, or was it my need for control?

As a now 18 year old girl, I look upon this situation with self compassion and a new perspective for what I felt during that time of adolescence.

I was searching for control at a time in my life, where I could barely reach it.

My parents were divorcing, friends unstable, body image altered by influences around me, and constantly moving new schools.

I was begging for an ounce of stability, and troubled within finding it.

Failure

I often defaulted to the knowledge that I were a stupid girl.

I plagued myself with insecurity and external validation which never filled the void in my heart.

In 9th grade, I moved to a new school. My last school didn’t work out, it seemed everywhere I went, shame followed behind me. Like it did in the 3rd grade.

Only this time, I was now leading myself onto the stage of shame, and my shadow was all the baggage being built on rocks and stones I had be thrown as I’d grown.

I had a math class, in my 1st semester. The teacher was a weird man, often using flirtatious methods to interact with the girls in the class. The method he used for me consisted of coming from behind and flipping the hood of my sweater over me, constantly patting my head as if I were a well behaved dog.

In the first months of this class I chose to actually try and get good grades, they were decent to begin with, and overtime they slanted. Was it rebellion? Fear? Stupidity? Maybe a mix?

Every time I’d walk into that class, I’d be covered once again, in shame. All the ‘cool’ girls sat in the back corner, I sat at the front with people who knew math better than most… helping contribute to my inadequacy.

I thought, if I sat near the back, maybe I wouldn’t feel so dumb. Though I never fit the uniform for ‘cool’ girl.

By month 2.5 I started skipping class for the first time in my life. I basically never went. I wouldn’t hand in assignments, and if I did show up, I was at least 10 minutes late.

I was completely bothered by the act of excelling for a teacher that I despised and felt severely uneased by, so I avoided it.

By the end of that semester, he came to talk to me, and told me I failed.

He said, ‘you can do summer school’

and I refused.

So, to this day, I’m left without a grade 9 math credit. A failed class to add to my shame, and all the blame I laid upon myself.

This was the first class I had ever failed, I had been close in the years prior but always somehow managed to weasel my way to a passing grade. In this case, he had no mercy. There was no wiggle room, just a big fat ‘F’ in my face, telling me I’m a failure.

How did failing affect my self perception?

In the past few years, I’ve minimally thought about this situation, maybe because it makes me uneasy? It doesn’t matter? Maybe because of the crippling anxiety it once caused me?

Even though I claimed to have not cared about my failing grade, I believe deep down it left a scar, a scar that repeatedly told me, you aren’t good enough to get a simple 50% so how can you amount to anything bigger?

At the young age of 14, your mind is so fresh, so ready to take on the world through the beautiful lens of innocence, to then be awoken in reality, that you may not be as sharp or perfect or notable as you once thought, is heartbreaking.

Its easy to be hard on yourself if you don’t achieve a certain mark

It’s easy to beat yourself up over laziness or inaction

It’s easy to feel shame watching your friend who excels in academics

But we weren’t all built to fit the school system

Think of how a XS pair of pants might not fit a XL body.

Clothes aren’t a one size fits all, and the same goes for the school system.

Drop out

During the second half of 10th grade, I went backpacking with my family in Thailand. It was my first time there. I fell in love with the landscapes, the people, the food, the culture. Everything was spectacular.

When I came back from my travels, I was awoken to reality.

My day to day was no longer spent barefoot on white sand beaches, surrounded by waterfalls and monkeys on the side of long dirt roads, drinking from coconuts, and eating fresh fruit from local markets.

It was now suburban highways, and rain filled skies accompanied by bitter chills, winter boots, and long days trapped in a classroom I had no joy being in.

So I left school, and started doing it online instead.

Now, I want to be honest about this time in my life. The pros, the cons and everything in between, it’s easy to create a romantically written notion about this time. When in reality it was rocky, tear filled and overwhelming for not only me but everyone else in my circle.

Pros about leaving school:

• More control over your time

  You can structure your days however you choose. Not limited to a rigid schedule.

• Learning self discipline and motivation

  Without teachers or deadlines, you become fully responsible for your time management.

• Time and space to figure out who you are

  When you’re no longer surrounded by comparison of other people and all the expectations at school, you’re able to start discovering what you are naturally drawn to and enjoy.

Cons about leaving school:

• Minimal social connection, it gets lonely

  It can feel isolating going down a different path, whilst all your peers are following another one.

• Missed shared celebrations

  graduation ceremonies, proms, and events, are missed out on. It’s bittersweet.

• Judgement from others

  other people may question or look down upon your decision to leave school. Which can feel discouraging and painful, but your path doesn’t need to make sense to anyone else but you.

These are just a few pros and cons that I was reflecting upon. It’s different for everyone, whether you stay at school or leave. There will be rain, and sunshine and clouds and fog, but that’s just life. Seasons change, shit happens, but all you can do is just take a big deep breath, step one foot in front of the next. It will be ok.

If you are struggling with school, can I be the little reminder in your ear to tell you, its not forever? It will pass, and you will move on from it one day, but until then… hold on, embrace every moment, good and bad.

When I was going through my darkest times in school, all I needed was someone to tell me, I wasn’t a bad person, I wasn’t weird for not enjoying school or feeling a part of the crowd. I was growing, imperfect, and slowly becoming the girl I was always meant to grow into.

Shame

You may have caught on by now to realize that shame has carried me through a lot of my adolescence. It’s been the toxic boyfriend I am struggling to break up with.

When surrounded by culprits of shame in school like dance classes, soccer teams, clubs and group activities at such a young age. It can be undeniably simple to latch onto a toxic persona as a core belief about who you are.

But I will say, one of the beautiful parts about growing up, is you can leave those less positive parts of yourself in the past.

Tonight for example, was rough for me. I was filled with an ever loathing amount of shame and embarrassment… It was a text miscommunication, which resulted in me being ‘needy.’ In reality, I was just a hurting little girl who needed recognition.

Feeling like my 3rd grade self walking into class after being unable to find the shirt I really wanted to wear, lapping around the school ten times to calm down with the counselor, the only vast difference being that I don’t have any junior mints to shock me back into reality.

Instead of eating junior mints, I’m writing this newsletter, crying at my computer once again. Gosh, I know, so dramatic. It’s honestly remarkable how similar we can be to the youngest versions of ourselves, how fragile, how naive, imperfect, heartbroken, and emotional.

I often think back to the time where my aunt told me ‘you can stay young a little longer Jess, you don’t need to rush.’

I was 15 at the time, and really needed to hear that. There are things in a girls life that can make her grow up emotionally much faster than is considered healthy. To the point where she’s 18, and still feels like a little girl unsure of what’s next, which way to go. She needs a shoulder to cry on, a place to call home, after all, I’m still the little girl I was, even now as I’ve grown.

The same goes for you, you can stay young a little longer, you don’t need to rush.

When I started school, I was young, vibrant and ready to play with new friends, I was surrounded by stories of dinosaur fossils buried in the sandbox, and twistable crayons to draw on coloring sheets with, kids brought cupcakes to school on birthdays, and caterpillars were the new trendy pet. Shopkins were traded like currency and money didn’t matter. Friends were made by saying hello, and bullies forgotten like long division. School wasn’t always shame laced memories, it was beauty and grace and peace.

I learned that school doesn’t define someone’s greatness, success, or worth. Yeah, you might get an ‘F’ on your test, but it doesn’t mean your gonna get an ‘F’ on your life. A good life isn’t graded by a test score or a final mark, its simply graded by how true you are to yourself, how willingly you pursued your dreams, and how present you were as everything was happening around you.

Even then, your life can simply, only be graded in the eyes of yourself. If you’re happy, you’re happy. And if your not, its ok to re-evaluate and step forward into whatever direction you choose to go next.

Lately I’ve been thinking about…

If I even know what love is.

I wonder what it feels like to be in love, to be kissed, held, admired, deeply cared for. And I’m not brushing off all the gorgeous people I already have in my life that care for me, I’m just attempting to describe a feeling that feels so immensely foreign to me.

The Divorce

It all started in 2016, when my parents divorced. 10 years ago now. Crazy.

I was 9 years old, living in a motorhome at an RV park that entire summer, alongside my mom, brother and sister.

When I look back on that time, I’m now able to realize why my parents divorce was never a huge shock to me, I believe this to be the case, because they never really loved each other. Maybe they loved the idea of them?

But they were simply unable to enter much further than close friends who decided to reproduce. Without a firm foundation, the relationship was bound to fall weak at the knees. Like an earthquake, some buildings fall, and unfortunately my parents were built on white sand and quick attractions.

Their ‘meet cute’ seemed too perfect to be true, and I guess, well, it was too perfect to be true.

It was a hazy day in 2002, a boy was lying on a white sand beach in Thailand, who caught the eye of a cute English girl, started talking, started dating, and 6 months later, they were married.

Followed by a daughter (me) in 2007, a daughter in 2010, and a son in 2011.

My parents were young, excited, but were they in love?

To say the least, that excitement for one another wore off by the time I entered the space. Nappies, tears, and long car rides in attempt to get me to sleep were the new romantic exchanges.

I never saw them kiss, or love on each other as I’d seen in the movies.

Often leading me to a similar question I still ponder today, what does it feel like to be loved and how do I know? Where do i find it? Cause so far I have been unsuccessful at finding it.

How do you find romantic love, if you never witnessed it growing up?

Is it found in a valentines day card?

A box of chocolates?

A cheesy rom com?

A supermarket?

A magazine?

A dating app?

The guy you sit next to in class?

Where is love found?

As I go over these evaluations of where love is supposedly found I keep falling back into the idea that love doesn’t knock on a closed door.

I often find myself and others included, thinking that love is simply something that just falls into your lap, even when you happen to spend your days cooped up in an office, barely seeing the light of day, hiding behind closed doors, and long evenings spent crying on the couch dreading the fact that love isn’t seated next to you.

I think for all of us girls, who are single, dreaming of love and ready for a relationship past the imaginary one we replay in our minds, it’s time we limit (myself included) pitying ourselves for being single and do something about it.

The other day I was invited to a karaoke night… I almost went, and then last minute didn’t go. I closed a possible opportunity that could have been. Or maybe even closed an opportunity that was better slammed in the face than opened for a moment in time.

Maybe, just maybe, we set a challenge for ourselves. Once a week, or month, we do something in public that’s out of our comfort zones.

This could be:

A pottery painting class

A karaoke night (maybe?)

A coffee shop date with your laptop and an awareness of the cute guy who just walked in…

Sit on a park bench, and read a book

Go to the movies alone

Maybe it’s time we start allowing new people into our lives. Letting the flow of whatever’s meant to happen, happen.

The Crush

I’m fairly certain I’m not the only girl who’s had a crush, no, I know I’m not.

Let’s be honest, humans are fascinating, beautiful, and when you find someone you’re able to feel a lustful first attraction with, that has the possible opportunity to be opened into something like love. You latch on.

Now, the amount of kissing and relationships I’ve had can’t be counted on a finger, cause it ends up being a fist in the face.

But crushes? I could definitely fill up more than a few hands with the amount I’ve had. Maybe my lack of relationship experience is because of my influx of crushing on boys who don’t even notice me?

The first big crush i have ever had, was on a boy I’ve known forever. Literally.

Our moms were friends before we even left the womb.

Each summer I’d go to his grandparents waterfront home on an island, and we’d get soaked in Chlorine, tan in the hazy sun, we’d laugh after dark and roast marshmallows over the fire, playing tag and hide & go seek across the vast ocean and garden surrounded property.

The summer I really got feelings for him was the year i turned 15. We were playing a spin the bottle game, this version entailed going into the closet to kiss the other person…

I kept repeating his name in my head as I span out the bottle, and within whatever powers god gave me in that moment, it stayed pointing right at him. I was like a bird far from her nest, my first step into my sexuality, an embrace of another person in a romantic way, the chance to be more than the girl he’s known for so long.

As he closed the door of the closet, I looked down, awkwardly blushing, unsure of what came next. He gently touched my arm and felt how nervous I was. He said “We don’t have to kiss if you don’t feel ready.” I realized, I wasn’t ready, and he was ok with that. Before we left the closet, he kissed me on the cheek, and put his arm around me, as I apologized, he kept repeating, “Its ok.” I liked him even more after that.

As we get older, we experiment, move on, date, try new things, and along the way we find people that seem to stick on just a little stronger than anyone else. Like that annoying piece of chewing gum you tried to spit out the window, which then ended up on the side of your car door… maybe just me? Oops.

There are few people who have that impact, but when they do, you can’t help but wonder, what if? What if I would have kissed him? Told him how I felt? A perfect moment to lay it on the table, say it as it is. I guess we will never know.

What did I learn from my un-kissed lips?

Well, first of all, I’m glad I didn’t kiss him, because I knew I wasn’t ready.

Second of all, if given another opportunity, I think I would?

It’s really easy to live in regret, what could have been, should have been. I hear the stories, the missed encounters. But if it didn’t happen, if it slipped away, all you can do is bid it farewell, learn from it and stay open for the next one around the corner.

And yeah, my lips are still un-kissed and that’s ok. Your reminder, take it at your own pace, there is simply no rush.

The movies

I’ve seen the movies, the perfect love that they display so beautifully on the screen, the lighting so perfect, hair just right. The kiss so passionate and everything so divine.

But then the remote switches off and your back, alone, wondering what love is and how to find it.

I’m not a character in the notebook, a man never jumped up on a Ferris wheel, free falling, asking me to go out with him. Most guys are too afraid to ask a girl out in fear of possible rejection these days.

We click the movie on and its perfect and when reality comes back we are left with the question; “Why not me?”

So, with this idealistic viewing experience, rather than feeling sorry for ourselves, why don’t we learn from it?

In this day and age we hide behind phone screens, frowns, and pictures of perfection on social media. Which leaves little to no room for real connection.

I walk a lot, and on my walks I enjoy giving a light smile, or hello to those I pass on the walk. Most frown. The other day a boy my age smiled back, it made my day.

If you notice, in a movie, none of these romantic leads are sitting on phone screens, hiding their smiles, and faking their lives on social media.

We see grand gestures, big smiles, open energy, present emotions, nights out, exploration.

In this modern day we’ve become comfortable with laziness in relationships.

Why is snapchat the way of telling whether or not a guy likes you? 50 years ago love letters were the snap streak, confessionals and long phone calls through the landline. Now it’s a booty call, a quick DM, a half face snapchat message.

I remember there was a guy I liked in school, we’d chat on snapchat sending selfies back and forth, and I’d go to school the next day realizing he was unable to acknowledge me in the halls. It ended there.

We hide behind the phone, leaving no room for face to face exploration within connection.

What if we started writing letters to people we like again? Forget the snap streak. What if we walked to the door instead of texting ‘here’. What if we started asking people in public out on a date just because you think their cute? If they reject you, that’s ok, wasn’t meant to be.

What if we started connecting again, like humans were always meant to do, in real life.

You know what? I don’t really know.

But what I do know, is that it’s all around us. As Hugh Grant states in ‘love actually.’

Love can be the hug from your mom after a hard day

The smile from a friend

It can be your grandmas famous carrot cake

Love can be a celebration dinner

A hand written note

A poem

It can be a long walk around your favorite park

Love can be found anywhere, in the most unexpected places.

I think you’ve got to open your eyes a little wider,

and keep your heart soft.

Because you never know when love will find you next, but it surely can’t be received if the heart is a closed door. Don’t be afraid to knock, or open it up.

Thankyou for being here, bye <3

I’d love to hang out again, subscribe for more!

Follow me on Instagram & TikTok & YouTube 💫

Thankyou for reading “normal women.”

Lately I’ve been thinking about…

My lack of friendships over the years.

Have you ever felt like the loneliest person alive, even in a room full of people all your age? Like everyone’s in on some big secret you were never told?

Same.

The Party

The most recent experience I had, which emulated this feeling was at a Halloween party a few months ago.

I had driven myself to the house, arrived at 8:57pm, the party started at 9:00pm. I was a few minutes early. Silly me.

Based on my early arrival I think its pretty easy to tell I don’t get out a lot.

I walked in, a few people were there already, as they looked me up and down, with a clear question in their faces of “why is she here already?”

I immediately felt myself shrink. I didn’t have a proper costume, so I wore a colorful paisley dress, my big silver hoops, brown boots, curly hair and a furry vest. I called myself a 70’s hippie.

As I made small talk with the girls I used to fight with in high school, I couldn’t help but think, why am I here?

I ran into boys I used to crush on in 10th grade, as they were unable to leave the couch sipping on cheap booze, blankly staring back at me. I felt myself shrink smaller.

At one point, I went into the bathroom which wouldn’t lock, I stared myself down in the mirror, unsure of why I was unable to enjoy the small talk. I franticly applied more lipstick and gloss over my chapped lips. I could’ve spent a while longer hiding, but knew it was time to step back out.

I started speaking to a girl I once knew in high school, telling her, “I’ve never been to a party before.” Which she responded with “Yeah, I could tell.” And walked away.

I stood there trying to find my spot in this crowded room, unable to navigate someone to latch onto, I awkwardly stood around like an idiot attempting to make myself appear busy.

Feeling lonelier than ever, sober and out of place, in a room full of under age drinking, I left.

Debrief on the party

I think if I were to enter the party alongside a few friends, maybe I would have appeared more approachable.

But then again, would I still feel the same? Because maybe it wasn’t for my lack of friends at the party.

Most days I’m alone, and rather comfortable within it, I’ll go to coffee shops, restaurants, parks, and thrift shops alone.

But If I’m in a space, that simply isn’t my cup of tea, or vibe. Will it ever feel comfortable? Or is it simply me entering into the lions den knowing I’ll be eaten alive, hoping to be spared?

The In-Between Friend

I’ve only ever been someone’s ‘best friend’ once.

But since then, I’ve been the ‘in-between friend’ as I like to call it.

The one that steps up higher on the rank of closeness, when her friend goes through a breakup either romantic or platonic. the one that steps up when your friends other friend cancels, the one that falls lower than all the others.

It’s a bittersweet place to be. Flexible, but lonely.

How many of us are in between friends?

How do we climb the ladder to gain the title of a best friend?

When I was 16, I had a friend that I was growing closer with, but I always fell in second place to her ‘best friend.’ It was always the two of them and anyone else who tried to peer in, would be a door closed in the face.

As an in-between friend, I found myself comfortable with the 15 minute before meeting cancellation, which happened more times than I’d like to say I put up with.

Example:

Meeting at 11:00am

At 10:45am she texts ‘Hey Jess, sorry, I have too much homework!

This was a common occurrence, that I received the brunt of.

The in-between friend, ‘won’t mind if I cancel late, she has no where else to be.’

There was a time I had planned to pick up a friend at 6:30pm, I arrived right on time, she told me to text ‘here’ but there was no response. I waited for 5 minutes until I walked to her doorstep and made a knock at the door, no response. I checked my texts to make sure I got the right house, and it was.

25 minutes went by, 3 phone calls, 5 texts, and a whole lotta knocking.

No answer.

I felt like an idiot, small, and weak. Though, I now look back upon this situation and question, why did I feel like an idiot?! I arrived on time to pick her up, to go out for dinner, and have a nice time, and she was the one unable to answer the door. Hmmm.

I went home after 30 minutes, I don’t know why I waited in her driveway, parked in my moms car for so long, I think a part of me was holding onto the idea that she was just ‘held up’ not ignoring me or standing me up.

After 4.5 hours, I got a phone call, she profusely apologized, followed by a simple self explanatory line ‘ I fell asleep’ at 6:30pm on a Friday night. Interesting.

I said ‘its ok, don’t feel bad, all good.’

But inside I felt a pit of rejection being formed in my stomach.

We rescheduled for a Monday, and it went ok.

But that was the last time I hung out with her, not because I wanted to cut the friendship, she just never responded when I said ‘it would be nice to hang out again sometime.’ I just couldn’t seem to take the hint I guess.

So how do you make friends, if it seems like they are all taken?

I’ve played that in my head a million times, and I realized the other day, that friendships are like starter relationships.

Sometimes they ghost, flake, cancel, and cheat on you with other friends. But other times you get lucky, and you find someone that you just click with. And it works.

Just because one romantic relationship didn’t work, doesn’t mean you quit.

The same goes for friendships.

The term I hear rather often, which people say to single ladies (me):

‘there is a sea of men out there, just keep swimming, try a new ocean every now and again.’ Which I kind of love. And it can quite frankly be the same with friendships. Some of us get lucky in school, and go through life with the same besties, and others, well, we need to swim a little further, a little longer, and get our toes a little wet to find our girls.

I believe the right people will come into your life at the right time. I just know it.

TW: I just want to preface this next section does discuss suicide & self harm.

The Death: TW

A few days before Christmas, in December 2023, after posting a new photo on VSCO, I decided to catch up with all the posts from old friends I once knew.

As I scrolled through the for you page, I kept seeing photos of a girl I was friends with in elementary school. Eventually I clicked on the photo of her, to read the caption “Fly High.”

My hands started shaking, my cheeks lost there rosy tint, I started searching on Instagram, I couldn’t believe this was true, maybe it was a mistake, a misunderstanding on my part?

But it was the truth.

She was gone.

A few days prior she had decided to take her own life.

My eyes welled with salty tears, and shock took over my body, how could a girl I used to run around playing tag with on the playground, be gone?

I went to work next day, unable to complete tasks, falling to the arms of my manager in tears, I couldn’t bare the fact that a girl I once called my friend, was no longer living on this earth. Even worse, that she didn’t feel like she had a space in this ‘race’ we call life.

Prior to this, death had been something I was afraid of, as it is for many, and as I still feel to this day. But in this case, it wasn’t the death I feared, it was the fact that a beautiful young girls life was cut short due to lack of support, and understanding she had felt from those around her.

There’s a few things that happen when you are a witness, or a person that lost someone to suicide.

• What could I have done to help her steer away from this decision?

• How could we have stopped this from happening?

• How can we shift societies view and awareness around this issue?

• Could I have said something to change her mind?

But in this situation, you can’t change anyone else’s mind, you can’t control anyone else. You can only control the decisions you make…

I know, its really easy to shove aside the friends you have, thinking they will always be here, but the toughest part about life is we don’t know how long each of us are here for, how long the sand in the hourglass will flow for.

So while you are blessed with these relationships, and friends, and people around you. Be careful that you don’t take them for granted.

And please know you are worth living. You have a place in this world. No matter how shitty it gets. I promise.

So to answer the over arching question:

Why are friendships so hard?

I think friendships are so hard because of how unique each of our lives are. We all come from different paths, story lines, and avenues, we carry our past like baggage ready to board the next flight.

Half of us don’t even know who we are, so finding friends we can hold onto for years and years is hard. Especially whilst we are all still growing and becoming who we truly are.

Like a relationship, it will never be easy, it takes work, sacrifice at times, love, care, and commitment.

But when you find it, it will be worth it. I think…

I’m also in this waiting period, unsure of what friends I really want, sure of what I don’t, and contemplating who I am in the process.

Will it be easy? No. But as we already know, life isn’t easy, and that’s where some of the very best moments can be made, and new friendships can be discovered and formed.

Thankyou for being here, bye <3

I’d love to hang out again, subscribe for more!

Follow me on Instagram & TikTok & YouTube 💫

Thankyou for reading “normal women.”

Lately I’ve been thinking about…

What I wanna do with my only life.

I know I’m a chronic over thinker. Every conversation I have is replayed like the album ‘Rumors’ by Fleetwood Mac, until my head hurts. (A beautiful record by the way)

So when it comes to an over thinkers 18th birthday, well, it would be silly to be surprised by how overwhelmingly challenging it can be to decide which direction she wants to go.

Read more

Lately I’ve been thinking about…

How normalized it is to hate on yourself.

The normalization and default way of living gravitated toward hating yourself, really makes my head spin a couple loops around.

When did we become so awful towards ourselves?

Has it always been this way?

Is it because we actually feel this way or is it simply because society looks at women who feel a certain level of confidence with high ego, big headedness, or the term ‘bitch’ is one that too easily slips off the tongue.

I noticed the normalization of self hatred at a very young age. Watching films with beautiful women, alongside large friend groups and high social status. Hating themselves, looking in the mirror tearing their faces apart.

I remember thinking if they don’t like themselves, how could I like myself?

Without a doubt, I take on the perception that another girl has about her own personal life, her own view of self, and I narrated it over my own.

I would hear the moms of my friends telling us to ‘slow down on the food’, are you sure it’s a good idea to eat that jess?’

I think the tip of my iceberg was the second time a close friend made a rude remark upon my body, a few years after the first “you look fat” comment when I was 8.

I endured another, only this was in discussion as to why I wasn’t as cold as she was. It was a partly cloudy day in May.

She kept complaining that she was cold, wearing a pink spaghetti strap jumpsuit, walking arm to arm with me, as I paced her wearing a quarter length sleeve top in white. She asked me…

“Aren’t you cold?”

“Not really.”

She went on to say “Yeah makes sense cause your so much bigger than me, your big boned.”

My mouth fell open, what started as an innocent conversation about the weather plummeted into the feeding monster of my insecurity.

As time went on, I found myself microscopically focusing in on certain parts of my body, specifically my thighs, lower belly, and triceps ‘fat’.

During this time I became best friends with hating myself. So accustomed to shrugging at myself in the mirror, and calorie counting in an app, which is supposed to measure out my hunger levels rather than me being aware of my body. Detached? Yes.

When I entered high school, I noticed how many other girls hated themselves. Sharing things like:

‘Oh I wish I had a body like you Jess!’

‘I need to lose weight’

‘I wish i had bigger boobs’

‘A smaller nose’

‘A nicer smile.’

And then I started to notice how the body wasn’t the only thing they criticized, but it was also their personality.

‘I hate my laugh’

‘I’m so awkward’

‘I’m stupid

‘I’m such a fucking idiot.’

Often times you’d hear these things as you’d sit on the toilet muffled under your own tears. As the echoes of the coolest girls in schools insecurities leap out of her mouth as she confides in her friends.

I’ll repeat that…

As the echoes of the coolest girls in schools insecurities leap out of her mouth as she confides in her friends.

Self hatred doesn’t just happen to one type of woman, it comes in different fonts, and sizes and social symbols.

It’s everywhere, so how do we combat it?

I believe there is simply no cure for self hatred, or lack of self love.

But I do believe in self compassion which can then lead to lessened symptoms of self hatred.

You may be like, ok, so your telling me, find self compassion and I will discover self love? Seriously?

And your right.

As a woman, their will always be a reason to find self hate, always a reason to tear yourself apart, always a flaw in our face, always something bad we say, always something we can fix and change. I get it.

But if we are always focused on all the bad, all the things we need to fix and alter, we will never find peace.

I believe tidbits of self love and compassion come from the real parts of life, the parts you can accept and appreciate.

Look… I know your body may not look like a Victoria’s secret models, but can you run? Breathe? Laugh? Cry?

That’s a body to love, I tell ya.

You may not be as funny as a comedian, but can you light up a room in time of sadness? Heartbreak? Can you bring a smile to some ones face just by being there for them?

That’s a beautiful gift to have.

You may not always say the right thing, but can you shift perspectives? Can you learn? Can you grow? Can you try again?

I know you can, keep going.

I think sometimes we become so flustered in our cocoons, our intricately designed worlds that we try to mold and make sense of. We become enrobed in our appearances to the outward world because we wonder who we are if we aren’t ‘all that.’

But girl, can I tell you a secret that I’m still learning?

I can GUARANTEE you, no one will remember your imperfect smile, crooked tooth, cellulite, bad relationship history, weight gain or loss, they won’t remember your acne scars, or brittle nails, they won’t remember your stomach roll when you laugh, and your puffy cheeks when you cry.

But they will remember all the goofy, beautiful, bittersweet moments made up of life that you were apart of. The way you impacted their hard and happy days. The light you brought into the room.

I promise.

So to answer the over arching question:

If every woman truly loved herself, how different would this world be?

Thankyou for being here, bye <3

I’d love to hang out again, subscribe for more!

Follow me on Instagram & TikTok & YouTube 💫

Thankyou for reading “normal women.”

Lately, I’ve been thinking about…

Whether or not this society was built with our wellbeing in mind…

If we go back to the 1950s, 60s 70s, 80s, 90s, even early 2000s, we were simply not exposed to the thousands of girls we see online every single day.

But now, in this modern digital age, we are surrounded by TikTok, Instagram, snapchat, twitter, tv shows about dating, and how he always seems to pick the classic pretty, made up girl.

We are exposed to an excess of how we should be, rather than nourishing who we really are.

Being told by the media to lose more weight, get another face lift, more Botox, how we need to change our body being repeated to us left, right, and center but within the act of telling us how we should be, we lose some of the very best parts of ourselves.

The Body

Within the social construction of a “perfect body.”

The way a body should look, the way we need to hold our tummies in until it hurts, the way pounds are lost like pennies from a purse.

We come across videos like:

“How to lose weight”

“Summer body weight loss workout”

“If you get skinny you become more attractive”

“This is how i eat to get skinny”

Videos that subconsciously feed our minds these ideas in which any body that doesn’t fit “skinny” isn’t as valuable, or worthy.

We notice the evolution of body trends over the past years, and as a trend always eventually does, it recycles, and resurfaces.

In the year of 2026 we are noticing the resurface of the skinny body, a few years ago it was the small waist, big butt.

I want to first of all preface that we all naturally have different body types, some of us are naturally skinny, curvy, taller, shorter, some of us are ectomorphs, mesomorphs, and endomorphs.

So the issue with a body trend isn’t about what body type is trending, but rather about the lengths we go to achieve a body that isn’t naturally ours or healthy to chase after.

I think the only way that we can combat a specific body trend, is simply by learning more about our natural form, the best way to fuel, move, and treat your body. Acknowledging that your body isn’t any less worthy either way.

Think of a body trend like a fashion trend, just because baggy jeans are in, doesn’t mean they need to be your favorite jeans, so just because skinny is in doesn’t mean you need to follow that.

Personal style

Personal style has become less and less personal, with everything becoming an aesthetic or a core. Losing a grip within what it is you truly like, what clothes you naturally gravitate towards, or actually enjoy wearing.

I remember I would wear a pair of black lululemon leggings, white vans, & a white TNA zip up boyfriend hoodie to school everyday in 9th and 10th grade.

In the middle of 10th grade, I went to Thailand for a month. During that time I was culturally awoken to the fact that leggings and a hoodie weren’t really all that I thought they were cut out be, it wasn’t a reflection of who I really was.

I remember coming back wearing homemade jewelry with shells I had scurried on the beach, accompanied by patterned sarongs, and long skirts with bright colors and prints, tie dye bandanas, and sandals whenever the weather was warm enough to wear the opened toed shoes.

Now, I don’t look back at some of the outfits I made with great pride or eagerness to recreate them, but I will say, it was the first time in my teenage years that I had worn clothes I actually wanted to wear, that I felt confident in.

As I’ve gotten older, I have found myself gravitated to vintage, and thrifted items, often, my clothing is influenced by eras like the 60s, 70s, and 90s. Simply because I like the clothes and the way I feel when wearing them.

I think it would be a disservice to myself to go back to the time where I wore clothes I felt out of body in. It would be unfair to walk abouts this world in fabric and jewelry that didn’t reflect the best parts of who I am.

What is personal style?

Simply put, it’s the embrace of what one naturally gravitates toward. What feels like YOU.

Something that can really help navigate this discovery, is going to thrift or vintage stores where no one is trying to sell or tell you what the latest fashion trend is. Go in, and try a mass of clothing that catches your eye, no matter how ‘out there’ or ‘crazy’ the pieces may seem.

Mood boards on Pinterest, detached from the trends if you aren’t a fan of them. Get inspired by older tv shows and movies ‘Sex & the city’ is such a great place to start, Daisy Jones & The Six, or movies like ‘10 things i hate about you’ or ‘Friends’ or ‘La La Land’ for color theory.

Open your world to the universe of color, patterns, shapes, and overall style.

Personal style doesn’t need to make sense to anyone else but you.

The face

The face is one of the very first things we judge upon meeting another person.

We tell ourselves stories upon what type of person they are, what careers they have, their social hierarchy, sex appeal, our attraction to them, etc.

We practice these internal judgements within very few, short moments upon walking past or meeting them.

Imagine you’re in a room, with two men…

• Option 1: tall, handsome, tan, fit and has a great smile

• Option 2: shorter, average looking, pale, out of shape, with a crooked smile.

Without a doubt a majority of us will gravitate to option 1.

But why?

Simply put, his face and appearance tells us he is likely safe, warm, kind, and sexy. He takes care of himself which means ‘he can take care of me too.’

The other guy doesn’t look so safe, so kind, or welcoming, so we shrug him off.

It’s important to realize, a face doesn’t tell us more than a smile, what’s behind that smile, well, time shall tell.

So when we come back to a woman’s face, our age, youth factor, hair length, color, or jaw line, or smile. The same sort of subconscious pressure is put onto us, however, its different than a man.

For a woman, we have a clock, and as we age it starts to tick, the wrinkles on our face are signs that we are coming closer and closer to becoming unable to have children.

Our youth is a sign of fertility and innocence. Which I would love to speak about further (in another post) because that also becomes a breeding ground for pedophiles and preying men upon young girls on social media.

But beyond the discussion of reproduction… Each wrinkle that steps onto our face is the reminder that we are coming closer and closer to death, every grey hair, every sag on our neck, every piece of age is a reminder we aren’t here forever.

So now, if we combine our ticking fertility clock, spectrum of attractiveness, and the thoughts of death, no wonder 10 year old girls are buying anti aging moisturizers, before hitting puberty!

When a man ages, its looked at as status, power, value and wisdom.

When a woman ages, she’s told she’s ‘losing it’ or ‘letting go’. She becomes invisible in society next to the younger woman.

Now the question is, how do we combat this harsh reality?

While this may be a bit controversial, I’ll say it anyway:

We cant change the fact that biologically our clock starts ticking, which means societies value on us does too.

But what we can change is what we tell the younger generations.

Lets be real, the media doesn’t want us to thrive, majority of brands too, they want to see women fall under pressure due to money fishing, sales, and profit margins. If women are able to combat the pressures we fall into surrounding aging, we defeat the stigma around it.

But I also want to note, Botox, fillers, and lifts, aren’t all bad.

I believe that the happiest woman is the woman who feels confident as she struts her beauty around the world. If she feels more confident with Botox or filler, or a face or neck lift. Go rock that shit, without shame.

The number one thing that we need to release, is our shame for simply existing.

You are here for a reason, you are more than a forehead wrinkle or a stubborn pimple on your cheek, more than a bit of thigh fat or stomach roll, more than a tight skirt or cropped top, you are a woman.

No matter the Botox, weight loss, weight gain, tight clothes, loose clothes, long hair, short hair, curvy, skinny. You are worthy.

Truly what a gift it is to be a normal woman.

I believe sanity comes from the acceptance that the world will never be perfect. It will never reach the level of stability we want it to. But within the flaws, we can find the cracks that cherish the women we are.

Through support systems, groups and communities, hobbies, time in nature, through wellness practices and time to be.

I believe sanity can be sustained.

I notice in times where screen time is high and self care is low, I am often left on the edge of stability within myself.

Breaking up with the toxic relationships in my life; could be the phone, a friend, a significant other, it could be an activity you partake in that you know is unhelpful.

I think sanity comes from self love, awareness, and the understanding that you are imperfect and so is everyone else, so stop hating on yourself if you don’t look or act or live the way you see the girl on Instagram living because its simply an array of images and video that are curated for you to compare to and view. It’s not real life. Life is messy, but also so beautiful, keep stepping one foot in front of the next, it will be ok.

-Jess

Thankyou for being here, bye <3

I’d love to hang out again, subscribe for more!

Follow me on Instagram & TikTok & YouTube 💫

Thankyou for reading “normal women.”