The end of a battle.

To say I came to Chicago like a wrecking ball would be the understatement of the year.

I got a job. Lost my grandma. Quickly found a place. And moved.

Maybe it wasn’t the best time, but it has proved to be one of the best decisions I could have made.

Never in my life have I felt more comfortable and sure of myself.

Yes, I get scared. Yes, I get lonely. Yes, I get anxious.

But I feel so content being me and making decisions that are solely for my best interest, and I have never felt so comfortable in my skin.

I finally feel like my life has come together in the sense that I have rid myself of so much self-doubt. I cannot tell you how many days I have spent waking up and wanting so badly to be anyone but me. To be the conventionally pretty girl. To be the girl who was really good at science and is going to be some wonderful doctor. To be the girl who was an artist and was interested in obscure poets. To be the world traveler. To be anyone but who I was born as. I looked for clubs to lose myself in, for crushes to obsess and lust over, for girls to constantly be envious of-Anything that made me lose focus on who I was and what needed.

Moving to Chicago to start a new job where you know no one doesn’t really allow for you to be wrapped up in others. It has been me, myself and I in my apartment. No one to run to. Just space where I am forced to be genuinely and unequivocally me. It has been the biggest blessing I could ever get. After losing the matriarch of our family, I felt like everything I previously knew drastically changed, and that is still true. But in this time of immense change, I have become so grounded in who I am and who I am not.

It is like for once, I can see so clearly. I hope this does not come across as selfish, but I can see what matters to me. I can see what I need.

For example, I have gone on quite a few dates recently, but haven’t spent the entire time wondering if I am good enough/pretty enough/funny enough for the other person. I have genuinely wondered if they are good enough for me. And if they aren’t, then I move on. I no longer have this fear that I am branded and looked down upon for being single. Or worry I am going to die alone. I feel full on my own. I am spending Friday night by myself at Target and have never been happier about it. It might not be what everyone else is doing, but it is what is making me happy.

Now, I have not become some sort of recluse; I still have all of these great people close to me and involved in my life, but I finally feel secure in myself. Secure enough to be independent and walk this world going down the path that is right for me.

I am done people pleasing. I am done trying to determine what other people are thinking. I am done pouring myself into other people, especially those who are undeserving. I am done loathing the way I look, or living my life with “what ifs.”

I am who I am, and probably am not going to change much more. Not saying that I am not about self-improvement, but my core has been developing for 22 years and I think it is in pretty good shape. I am happy with the way I turned out. I feel full. I feel healed.

It just took a move to the big city for me to realize it.


and just like that, you were gone

Usually I have turned to writing in my darkest times to help me cope, but in these past couple of months, that was not the case. These last few days I have felt the need to spill my guts though, so I am going to try and power through. I might be rusty, I might be scatter brained, I might have lost my desire to write, but I guess you’ll just have to bear with me as I try and get back on track.

So in the last week of August, I started my job working in the student life department at a school in Chicago, which combined 2 of my goals- to get back working in student activities AND work in the city I always dreamed of working in. The weekend prior to my start date was spent in the hospital, where my granny was admitted for low potassium levels. We thought it was no big deal, and I went to start my new career shaken but not worried. While I was busy plugging away at work and exhausting myself with a long commute and worrying about making friends, my granny was not getting better, she was getting worse. She was eventually readmitted the following weekend, and that’s when we knew it was something serious. Let me preface this by saying my granny was never sick and never went to the doctor and I never felt the need to worry about here; I naively thought that she would just be around forever. Unfortunately, no one lives forever though, and we found out she had stage 4 cancer on the same day our 14 year old cat died unexpectedly, reiterating the fact that humans really have no clue what life holds.

A mere 2 and a half weeks later, my granny was gone; I was sleeping 2 feet away from her when she died in her sleep. All I could think about was how sickening it was that the rest of my life was starting while hers was ending. That here I was, living out my dreams, not knowing if she ever truly fulfilled what she wanted out of life.

And now, it is all  bittersweet. I moved to Chicago this past weekend which has been my goal since I was little, but it breaks my heart knowing that my granny will never get to see me do it. And now I don’t even know if it was the right decision to make. I never doubted that I wanted to live here, but leaving my mom so soon after she lost her mom seems like the selfish thing to do. My judgement is foggy. I feel like my path is very unclear. I don’t know what I want and don’t have the energy to figure it out, but at the same time feel like I need to be grateful for what I have and live every moment to the fullest. I guess that is what grief is though- just a huge cloud of uncertainty.

So, now I am here. In a whole new city. With a whole new family structure supporting me. A new, unfillable void in my heart.

And I truly do not know how to feel. 


day 2 on the new job- a peek into my mind

  1. Why doesn’t the South Shore go all the way to my work and stop right there?
  2. Why are there no good songs on Spotify?
  3. Why are there tolls and why are they so expensive?
  4. Why don’t cars have a built in coffee pot?
  5. Should I try to find a carpool club?
  6. Is every road being worked on?
  7. Ugh, how am I low on gas already?
  8. CURSE YOU LAKE SHORE DRIVE. Why do you suck?
  9. Is that a car on fire?
  10. Why did I leave so early, and am I the first one here?
  11. Do you think they monitor internet usage, cause I needs to check my Facebook?
  12. When will I be able to get an apartment here?
  14. Is it lunch time yet?
  15. OMG will I ever make work friends?
  16. Will I ever make Chicago friends?
  17. Was college the best it is gonna get for me?
  18. What is a liturgy and how hard is it to become Catholic?
  19. Do I need a bible?
  20. Why am I so hungry?
  21. Do you think they regret hiring me?
  22. But for real, how do adults make friends?
  23. What am I going to have for dinner?
  24. Why do I keep having to pee?
  25. When will I stop being nervous?
  26. Did I make the right decision?
  27. Can I live with my mom forever?
  28. How hard is it to collect unemployment?
  29. Should I go to grad school?
  30. How am I going to drive here in the winter?
  31. Lake Shore Drive, are you ever going to get your shit together?
  32. How is tomorrow only Wednesday?
  33. Why is traffic not moving?
  34. Why is the exit reduced to one lane?
  35. How the hell do I only have half a tank of gas?
  36. Why do I have to pay these tolls all over again?
  37. What do my co-workers think of me?
  38. Can I just be a student forever?
  39. Scratch that, can I just stumble upon wealthiness?
  40. Ugh, why are all of these people running along the lakeshore?
  41. When I move here, do I have to become a good runner?
  42. How is it already 5:30 already?
  43. Can I eat a cookie and a piece of cake?
  44. Do I have the energy to work out?
  45. How much time do I have before I need to wake up and do it all over again?
  46. When will this all start to feel normal?

Can I fast forward?

I have written countless blog posts before about feeling lonely due to my unsuccessful, always unfruitful, chases for love and I have written blog posts where I detailed feeling alone due to the emotional isolation caused by my depression. Let me tell you though, none of those prepared me for the loneliness that comes with your post-collegiate life.

This loneliness is different, and in some ways, worse.

College is a bubble. A safe, cozy bubble that makes you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside. It is full of friendly faces that surround you and make you feel like you have a small, supportive army. Once you graduate, you’re pushed out of that bubble and forced into a harsher reality.

I have never felt as alone as I have this summer.

Yes, I have gotten to see friends and family, but it isn’t the same. My whole community is gone.

Leaving college forced me to leave 1200 people who I knew could relate to me or understand me on some level. Now, I am left with nearly no one.

I have realized that a lot of people that I thought were my friends are either consumed in their new found domestic life or are too busy with jobs or were only friendly because it was convenient. I have realized that just because they were faces I saw everyday for 4 years doesn’t mean they are faces I was meant to see for the rest of my life. And it sucks. And it is sad. Even if these people don’t want to be my forever friend, I miss seeing their faces and feeling safe. They knew me, I knew them, and we could chat and go on about our lives feeling a bit fuller. Feeling temporarily less alone.

People in their early 20s seem to dive right into making a family or be the polar opposite- spending their checks on trips and extravagant experiences. I cannot seem to find anyone who fits in neither of those boxes like me.

Losing my community has made me feel like I have lost a part of myself.

But, I suppose you can’t have something forever.

Survey Sunday (part 5?)

Hi all! I am not dead; I have just been leading a verrrryyyy lackluster summer. I don’t start my job until mid-August and am slowly going crazy. There is only so much Scandal a person can watch before  feeling depressed about 1) the political system and 2) not being Olivia Pope.

Besides Netflix and reading and the occasional workout, the high point of my week was seeing Magic Mike XXL. I have decided that the next relationship I enter in must be with a male stripper.

That being said… here is a random survey I found.

Sorry, I am bored.


song that amps me up during a workout- Lately, because I am apparently a pre-pubescent girl, it has been Where Are U Now by the Biebs. That song makes me feel like I could run a marathon, and then half a mile in the song ends and I remember that I am so NOT a runner. But for the .5 miles I feel like a rockstar. Also, if I am being honest, the Biebs got attractive.


way to eat eggs- Poached! I have been digging poached eggs lately. The problem is I can’t poach an egg. Soooooo said male stripper boyfriend needs to also know how to cook and enter my life like yesterday. Cereal ain’t cutting it.

podcast- I am not hipster enough to listen to Podcasts soooo…..

Kind of date- HA. Is this a joke? I HATE dating. It is so awkward, and I feel like I can never really eat when I am on them. So, let’s just pretend that stripper boyfriend and I are like a good 4 months in to a very happy, monogamous relationship. In that case, my ideal date would be him making me making breakfast and sipping coffee. Then, maybe going for a walk and visiting a farmers market. Then, coming back home and watch some TV and take a nap. Then, make some dinner. And then we would go out for ice cream and maybe see some live music or go to a bar to meet some friends. Apparently I like dates to last at least 20 hours. But remember, stripper boyfriend is obsessed with me and wants to spend every waking moment making me happy. I know, I am #blessed.

App- Nothing beats seeing filtered photos of my favorite celebs as well as adorable animals due to the plethora of pet accounts I follow. I am super cool.

Item in my closet- What are real clothes? This has been the summer of workout shorts and sports bras. BUT, soon enough, I will have to look like a respectable human. In that case, I think my most favorite item in my closet is a tie between this black dress my mom got me 2 years ago from Target that accentuates my good parts and hides my bad parts AND my shorteralls. Getting those denim beauties was a dream come true.

Pizza topping- VEGGIES–> mushroom, tomato, green pepper,and onion. I absolutely hate almost all meats on pizza. I will tolerate some grilled chicken or taco meat if I am feeling taco pizza, but veggies are the way to go. It makes me feel so healthy and fit, like I belong in the pages of Self or Shape Magazine ( side note- I am being sarcastic. I know that pizza isn’t healthy…)

Gifts to give and receive- When receiving gifts, I only accept dollar bills (no less than fifties) or diamonds. Totally kidding. I am that girl that keeps every card she gets so I am a big fan of thoughtful, written from the heart cards. I also like coffee mugs and anything polka-dotted/ with a bow on it.

When it comes to giving gifts, I really love giving people cards that say “you’re welcome” because my presence in their life is the greatest gift of all. Usually that pisses people off though, so I like getting them something fancy that I know they will like/need/ and wouldn’t ever buy for them-self. YAY PRESENTS. I LOVE GIVING GIFTS.

Ok, that is the end of the survey.

Now, to watch Scandal and realize that I will never be a cool Gladiator.

It’s fine. I’m fine.

What It’s Like To Be “Too Picky” In Dating

Originally posted on Thought Catalog:

Dima ViunnykDima Viunnyk

“Maybe you’re just being too selective,” my friend nonchalantly offers, bringing a Corona bottle to her lips. We are sitting in a bar, one of her choosing, and airing our grievances about life. She’s unhappy with her career, or lack of as she says, and I’m trying to solve my personal dichotomy of wanting love and never wanting to meet anyone.

“You’ve always been too picky.”

It’s not as if she’s saying something I don’t think myself. On nights I’m filled with a strange sort of jealousy that so many people in my life are coupled off, I begin fretting my love of solitude is a sign that something is wrong with me. And I can’t help from questioning my own behavior. You see enough Instagram posts of engagement rings from girls you once ran away from boys with on the elementary blacktop, you start to wonder.


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Nicholas Sparks Changed Me

True love.

Two words that, depending on your past you either “awww” at or scoff at. A concept that has almost been erased from the minds of human beings due to the world we live in today. Tinder, SnapChat, texting- all of these enemies have pushed true love into hiding, so far hidden that some might argue that it is gone.

I come from a generation that is notorious for instantaneous gratification. We want things and we want them now. We hate waiting. Dating, writing letters, meaningful, face-to-face conversations- too time consuming. The solution? Apps like Tinder and Grindr to show you people you can hook up with in a 5 mile radius; we create things to make “love” more convenient.

I get it. I am so impatient. I hate waiting. I like to be in control and do things when I want to. I hate succumbing to the idea that there is a bigger plan waiting for me because that means my fate is at the hands of someone else. Love is though; it is not at your control. It isn’t something that comes when you want it to. It is something that takes time and patience and faith, everything that goes against today’s mentality.

Sounds rough, right? So difficult and seemingly unattainable that most people settle for  knock-off versions of love because it is there and it is easy. BUT- it isn’t the real thing.

I have been in love and had my heart ripped out. I have been stood up and ignored by guys that I thought liked me. I have been overlooked and passed up. I have seen marriages crumble and end in divorce (my parents’ included). I have seen people stay in relationships out of complacency. Memories that are like flashing lights telling me to STAY AWAY FROM LOVE and retreat to the safety net of hooking up and having no feelings. It is easier and it is safe.

It isn’t love, though.

Now this completely contradicts my realist, independent girl attitude but I am choosing to wait for love. I am choosing to believe that it is out there. Blame it on the numerous romantic comedies I have seen or all of the Nicholas Sparks novels I have read, but I am waiting to find that one person. The person who makes you better. The person who sees that you’re a mess but chooses to stay. The person who lights up for you. The peanut butter to your jelly. Your soul mate. Your one.

I know love is out there. It can be likened to a rare gem, but true love is real. And yes, it is definitely easier and less life-altering and less time-consuming to settle or refuse to think love is fake, but it isn’t nearly as rewarding as being patient and being hopeful.

I am choosing to believe that love and romance and chivalry and kindness are alive and well. I am putting my faith in humanity. It might sound stupid and it might sound girly and it might sound pathetic, but I don’t care. I am romantic and apparently a bit more idealistic than I care to admit, but I am waiting. And once that wait is over and I have found true love, I can assure you that it will all have been worth it.