Now What?


 She inhaled deeply, then gave it all she had. 

Hit after hit 
Pound after pound 

Her fists landing on it's mark each time she swung.

     She dropped her head as she lifted her arms.

     "I hate you!" She screamed. "I hate you!"

     With every swing she pictured his face, anger looming inside. Sweat dripped from her face emulating a perfect swan dive landing in the abyss of her shirt. A shirt that read, 'Fight For Your Life'. She was tired of fighting...for anything...
for everything

Every time she fought, she lost and all those losses were taking its toll on her.

     The greatest lost of all was when the love of her life (or so she thought he was) walked out on her without an explanation or justification. She was angry. She was hurt. She wanted him dead. Yes, dead.

     She swung and swung and hit and punched and imagined it was him she was beating to a pulp.

     Finally, the bag fell open and sand came pouring out. She fell to the floor in tears, sand covering her face. "I have no fight left!" She screamed. "Now what?"


This is perhaps the easiest way that I can express my anger. I have always been an angry person, childhood aside. There have been so many events in my teenage years that have led me to be so angry with the world and so messed up in the head but I have to remind myself, one day at a time because I have to make it, if only for myself.

Am I Not Enough?


"No matter what, once in your life, someone will hurt you. 
That someone will take all that you are and rip it into pieces and they won't even watch where the pieces land.
But through the breakdown, you'll learn that you're strong,
and no matter how hard they destroy you, you can conquer anything."

He told her that she was beautiful and she believed him.
Every morning she opened her eyes and found him smiling at her as he said
"good morning gorgeous".

And every time he left for work, he would text or call her just to say that she was the most beautiful girl in his world and that he was blessed to have her.

She believed him.

Even when she asked him, he would say that he was happy and he saw nothing wrong with their relationship. So she thought, 
this must be my insecurities.

Until one day she took to his Instagram account and saw that he followed numerous accounts of women...
showing their ass.


She dug deeper and discovered a secret email address that stored photos of naked women with big butts and porn stars.

Panic swept through her body. Hurt and betrayal coursed through her veins. 

Am I not enough? 

She sat in disgust and waited for him to come home.

"Am I not enough?" She asked.

He looked at her, baffled.

"What are you talking about?" 

She grabbed her phone and shoved it in his face, showing him an ass shot of some skinny bitch he followed, a photo that he liked.

He was speechless for a moment but quickly gathered his thoughts. He lashed out in anger and shock, and bruised and battered her with every word he said. 

She couldn't understand where his rage and spite was coming from so she walked away. As she nursed her wounds, she asked herself...

Am I not enough?


There is something so fucked up when someone you love or someone who claims to love you whole and unconditionally tells you that you're beautiful but everything that they find beautiful or are attracted to does not look like you. Your self esteem takes a nose dive, fracturing it's skull and left to die like a stray dog on the roadside.

That can really mess a person up. Something within you switches off and you're sitting there in the dark thinking, what just happened? 

These days I find that I'm constantly comparing myself to other women. Their body types, careers, accomplishments i.e husbands/families even down to which car they drive. I keep telling myself that maybe if I had more or gave more instead of desiring more, internally and expecting too much, I wouldn't be in this predicament. But this has made me realize that I have to be enough for myself before I can be enough for someone else.

I pray that no one ever has this feeling of worthlessness because of someone else. 

You are enough. 


Do Women Really Oversell Themselves?

A few months ago while watching Being Mary Jane, a character in the show asked another character, why do women oversell themselves? This really got me thinking. At first I was like naaaah son! Why would we need to oversell ourselves? We're actually that damn good!

And then it happened.

Before I decided not to date, I was talking to this guy. He was fine...AF, smart, athletic and successful so of course I thought I had to lay it on thick! He quoted that one famous line: Tell me about yourself. 

Ha! Easy! 

I'm an author, blogger and freelance photographer. I also freelance as an editor and workout like a b and usually squat in high heels! I play three instruments and can cook/bake rather well. I love driving standard shift cars and I know Spanish and French. Sounds pretty good huh? 

What I didn't tell him was that I was currently unemployed and not being paid to blog. My book wasn't selling and I hadn't really gotten a major photography gig in about a year. I did editing work but on Fiverr...and literally got paid $5 per document. I do squat in heels (and don't have the Kim K derriere to prove it) and that those squat sessions are done in looong intervals. I can play three instruments but haven't touched one since my teenage years. I do consider myself a good cook but then I now realize that it's kind of limited to my culture and basic American/Italian/Chinese cuisine. I do adore standard shift cars and video games (there goes me overselling myself again!) But I prefer to drive automatic and have to be in the mood to play video games. As for speaking Spanish and French...that's laughable. I speak basic Spanish and French.

Men are basically simple creatures. No offense men but it's true. So as women, why do we feel the need to go above and beyond to impress a guy?

Broken Glass


   "Feelings" she said. "All these feelings."

    Someone once said it was a blessing and a curse to feel everything so very deeply.

She got up and moved to the corner of the office and stood by the window overlooking the parking lot.

     Such a gorgeous view 
she thought, sarcastically.

    "Temple?" Dr. G called out, bringing her back to reality. 

     Temple turned to face her. "Hmm?"

     "What about your feelings?"

     "They suck."

     "Can you expand?" She asked.

     "I, so deeply. When I'm happy, I'm bubbly, overjoyed and light but when I'm sad, I just want to..." She trailed off.

     "You want to what, Temple?"

     She looked out to the parking lot again. "I just want to kill myself."

     Dr. G took a deep breath and proceeded in her Indian accent. "Temple, tell me...what emotions do you feel when dark thoughts cloud your mind?"

     "Well Doc, I feel guilt. I feel useless, unloved, insecure, broken...insignificant." She moved away from the window and plopped down on the black leather sofa opposite the psychiatrist's desk. "Why the fuck do I even exist?" She moaned. "I'm just a ball of wasted space. I don't matter."

     "Everyone matters, Temple. You just have to find out why you matter. Life is about making the best of what you're given."

      "No offense Doc but fuck life. I'm over it." She got up and slowly made her way back to the window and gazed out into the parking lot. "Do you mind if I open the window? It's a little hot."

        Dr. G hesitated; the room was cool due to the air-condition that pumped furiously to make it so. Finally she said, "Go ahead Temple, if it makes you feel better."

        Temple looked at her with a nervous smile.

        "Thanks Doc."

        Her heartbeat slowed as she lied in a pool of blood on the cold, hard pavement. As she took her last breath, she thought, finally, I don't feel anything.


I've had suicidal thoughts/tendencies from the age of 15. Even at this age, my mind sometimes travels to dark places. It is said that suicide is selfish and the person is lazy. Maybe it's the truth. We leave loved ones behind in grief and hurt but what if the suicidal tried to reach out to their family and close friends before attempting to take their own life? What happens when we repeatedly cry out for help but no one sees or hear us? What happens when someone tells us that we need help but proceeds to walk out of our life, leaving a hole when they could have been the one to help us? A lot of people fail to realize that most suicidal people weigh every option before throwing in the towel. Sometimes the only light that can be seen at the end of the tunnel is death.  

I'm not saying that suicide is okay

...but the thoughts of no other option clouds my mind and the feeling of not being wanted in this life, feeling as if this life was not meant for me. When all that clouds my mind, then the choice of suicide becomes the only option to rid the pain that fills my entire body.

Yes, I know that it's not cancer or some other super sucky disease, but a disease and sometimes you have to put yourself in someone else's shoes and try not to judge them. 

 I hope that this leads you to ask those close to you "is everything okay?" I hope this opens your heart to genuinely care about the well-being of someone and not just because you feel like it's your duty...and I hope that if or when someone reaches out to you for help, you recognize them and help them.

Suicidal people are not selfish or lazy, we're sick. 


I Just Wanna Run...


I can't shake it. This...this thing. This burning desire. It's like, my feet both fell asleep at the same damn time and they're both waking up, together, as if the whole thing was planned.
This freaking sensation though! This urge. It pricks me and stings, just like my emerging feet.

It beckons to me.

"Run" it whispers. "Run far away. You don't need this bullshit."

Oh, but I do.

I need to feel every ounce of pain. Every ounce of loneliness and helplessness and neediness. I need to wallow in this. I need to feel this worthlessness, this failure, this emotional and mental abuse because somehow, it makes me feel okay. It's like a drug leading me to euphoria. I don't want to let it go. 


I want to run, just like the wind. I long to go where the wind goes; far, far away. I wanna go there and stay. I want to blend in and stand out all at once. I want to hold my breath until I turn red and breathe, all at once. I want to live and I don't just mean to merely exist.

I want to live!

Instead, I'm stuck like a hamster on a wheel.




...In the same direction. Over and over and over...with nothing ahead of me.

Can I get off the wheel for just one minute? If only to dream of the moon and the stars, of places I miss but have never been to. Swimming in the magical hot springs of Norway, lying in the grass as I watch the hot air balloons float high in the sky in Turkey...cruising down a river with my Bailey in Italy. My dog? Hell yeah, my dog! 

...If only to dream of a love so, so deep, you'd fall and fall forever.

I just wanna run...