Home is where the heart is.

Recently I have been faced with the challenge of deciding the "next step" in life: where to settle down and make a life with my husband, Will. I knew that growing up would be tough, but I didn't know how difficult it would be to decide the next 5-10 years of my life. Maybe it's because I'm barely 25 and trying to make decisions that are bigger than me...Maybe it's because I feel screwed over no matter which choice I make. Oh Catch-22, we should rename you Life.

My husband and I have been pretty dead set on going to Colorado, our land of opportunity and legal weed. Our Promised Land. California has gotten claustrophobic and uncomfortable with the amount of regulations on simply being a human. You can't walk out the door without worrying if your clothes are environmentally friendly. Also, the cost of living is way too fucking high.


                                              $1895 / 500ft - Studio (Noe Valley)

Maybe you didn't see that...   $1895 for 500 FUCKING FEET. And guess what, someone in San Francisco is going to be EXSTATIC over how "affordable it is for the area."  Pffffffffttttttt yeah right.

Looking at Colorado we were greeted with so many options for buying a home, renting to own, and learning that being alive doesn't always have to be expensive.  Plus, despite cost of living being so much lower, the average income is the same (if not more) than the bay area. OK, so far Colorado is in the lead.

If the problem is money, why not just find a good paying job here in California? Well, applicant to job ratio is significantly disproportionate. One job opening will have 80 or more people fighting each other for the slight possibility of being interviewed. Long story short, it's hard out here for a pimp. It's not anything new that getting a job is not easy here in California. The Colorado economy is in a much better position, and has more jobs with less people. Colorado: still looking good.

Moving out of California would be scary, perhaps even terrifying for me. All my life, I have lived near my parents, either in the same town or 2 hours away. Yes, it sounds childish but my family has been my constant, the only people who helped me keep my shit together during the hardest years of my life and leaving them will be heartbreaking. Not being able to hug my dad until the next one of us books a flight? Oh my Science, kill me now. However, what comes from this immediate separation is the chance for Will and I to become a stronger entity. We will have no one to depend on but ourselves, and for a while we will be each others only friends. This move would be a leap of faith, and complete trust that I am 100% sure we will not fail, as a couple and at stepping out on our own. Colorado: still gaining steam.

For many reasons, I am ready to take that leap of faith. We believe enough in each other and in our marriage that failure is not a possibility.

Well. Now a curveball has been thrown our way. For months now I have been determined to move to Colorado, nothing can change my mind, no matter how many people were pissed or sad that I was leaving; it did not matter. Then, it came up that I might have a possible job offer in San Francisco that would accomplish the goals we were hoping to achieve in Colorado. We would be financially independent, stable, debt free, and working towards our future family. I would have health insurance, and possibly have some of my graduate school paid for. Everything that we would be moving for...So now what?

I asked Will, "where will you be the happiest, like, where does your heart want to be?" His response (get ready for an aweeeehhhh) "wherever you are, is where I am happy. I don't care where we end up, as long as we are together."  I love him. It proves the point that home is where the heart is, and no matter where you are you can be happy.

I thought that California was the source of my frustration and discontent. But, maybe it's just where I am at the moment. Living in a cramped house with no marital autonomy, unable to enjoy being newlyweds, and barely staying out of financial distress. We can stay in California and move to another town and start our life anew, without a costly move so far away.

Perhaps I thought moving far away would fill the void of what I have been "missing" all these years. When in reality, there is no longer a void because I found what I was searching for within my husband, and it doesn't matter which state we live in as long as we have each other.


We have a song, and it gets us through shitty days and tough times. My Pandora station seems to always know when I am thinking of him because it plays this song constantly.
 It helps remind me that I have all that I need, no matter where I end up.

The heavens are a little brighter, our hearts a little darker.

I've been introspective all morning, trying to put words to my emotions and maybe quiet my grief. We always think of what we should have said, should have done, anything more than what we've done after someone has passed away. Every time I think of Michelle I think of her laugh, and her adorable voice and no matter how angry someone is, her smile could change that mood. I have been battling with myself, going back and forth between the emotion of grieving her death and then feeling as though I don't deserve to grieve because I was not as close as some others were to her. As though I have not earned the right to feel this pain...

Then I realized, I may not have been her best friend but I learned from her and found that she left an undeniable mark on my heart. She taught me that a smile and laughter is more healing than yelling or hurting someone. There was never a moment that I was around her when I did not find myself smiling also, it was hard to resist. Whenever I saw her, she had a beaming smile on her face filled with love.

If only we could all be like that every day of our lives, and be genuine.

We all have lost loved ones in our life, and it never gets any easier. Each life is precious, and when it is taken, it takes a piece of us all. I did not hang out with Michelle everyday, or even talk to her daily, yet I still feel a void in my heart. I can feel the loss deep within.

My heart will never let go of the memory or love for Michelle, I will carry that always.

A few dear friends of mine are relying on my strength to help them through this. For them I am holding it together and coping on my own. Which is okay, I think I prefer it that way because I mourn in a very personal manner and I have strong coping mechanisms (I can thank years of therapy for that). I feel strengthened by those who feel safe with me, safe to be hysterical and trust I will be able to calm them down once they got all the crazy out. I know that we will get through this, be stronger, and live with purpose and meaning. 

I offer my shoulder to those who need it. I will listen for hours if you want to. I will scream at the top of a hill with you. I will hold you until the tears stop. And I will keep my heart strong for when yours is weak. I offer my strength for you to lean on. I am not a religious person, but I will pray with you if it quiets your mind and gives you peace. I cannot promise that I will not hurt, but I can promise that I will love you until the pain starts to subside.

When the grief starts to overwhelm you, breath deeply, and feel Michelle's love within your heart. Trust that she knew how important she was to you, and her spirit will be with us always, smiling her radiant, beautiful smile.

We love and miss you Michelle...

The Myth of My Strong Persona

 Our outward appearance says a lot about the person we are, what we like to do, and the social circles we interact with. We use our clothes, brands, make-up, tattoos, and shoes to "mark" ourselves and signify the groups we are associated with... we have the Bros, the metal-heads, stoners, high maintenance chicks, those loosely affiliated with gangs, nerds, D&D nerds (yes, I am acknowledging the difference), athletic dudes that never wear pants but always gym shorts, high maintenance men with more hair gel than a salon, overly committed sports fans, hippy free-spirits, the socially awkward socialites (personal favorite), heavily tattooed alternative men and women (another favorite, after all, that's where I fit best), and the "I'm getting old" young person.... If while reading that you couldn't picture anyone of those people as some of your friends, then you might want to make some friends.




It's ok if you don't have any friends...neither does awkward turtle.

There came a time in my life when I adopted the "bad-ass" persona. It was placed upon me, never self-proclaimed. So you punch a few guys and break a few of their noses, start a couple bar fights, challenge men that are 3 times your size, fuck shit up in mosh-pits, have a sleeve, and referee chick fights...all the sudden you become a bad-ass. Well, it might not be an incorrect label, however it puts pressure on me to always be that person.

I know what I am capable of in the physical sense, and that I don't back down if I feel justified that this person deserves an ass beating. But I don't always want to fight or engage in violence. The internal struggle that this label creates, and the fear of letting people know I am actually quite sensitive, continues to force me to stay "the bad-ass bitch" tough girl. Socially, I am not comfortable flirting, acting like a "lady", or pretending to fit in with other women. I actually don't like most women, because they are catty, rude, and always wrapped up in starting drama... I digress. Every once and a while, when I wear a dress I hear a friend or an acquaintance remark at the fact that I am indeed a lady. I crack jokes like "don't let this dress fool you, I'll still punch you." Yeah, it's funny and creates a humorous interaction (mostly with men that don't know if their dick should be scared or turned on...Fear Boner, FACT) but it makes me disappointed that that is how I am perceived even when I try to be different.

At the end of the day, I am left with a feeling that no one really knows who I truly am. My feelings continually are scarred from those who are insensitive and assume they cannot hurt me.

Sometimes I wonder what people would think of me if I just stopped being that tough girl, man fighting, metal-head. Would they know how to interact with me? Will I be perceived as a bullshitter?

Fitting in...a worry since pre-school.

                                  I am the duck...

The point is, my personality goes deeper than being a tough girl...because I'm not always tough. I have a heart that hurts like anyone else, feelings that get trampled on, emotions that aren't acknowledged or appreciated. I am patient, and caring.. to the point that I care for others more than myself. I don't want to forever be known as the girl who is more likely to break your nose than hug you...my heart is heavy with that worry.

So, what's behind the admission of being a Sensitive Sally? Perhaps for people who take the time to read this to get to know me, the true me. A few that I've known for a long time will read this and grasp the stress that this creates for me, and already know the person I am within. Maybe for others that have no idea who I am will start thinking more about those around them, and how they are perceived. We judge too harshly and draw unfair conclusions about people simply based on 30 seconds or less within meeting them.

I urge everyone to take a moment, upon meeting someone new, to give them a chance to prove you wrong. We all deserve a chance to be appreciated, loved, and acknowledged for being the people we truly are. After all, tough girls need love too...