Write for Assistance

Hello, my darlings! Ugh, kidding, I have a strict rule that I will never call anyone “hon”, “sweetie”, or “darling” until I am at the age where I start dressing like Queen Elizabeth II (except with more feather boas and less gloves). I apologize for not writing lately, but let me tell you, my life is the biggest sparkly mess it has ever been. It’s become more like a big glitter cloud, as if every contestant ever on Rupaul’s Drag Race has walked by me in a line and each given me their best hair flip each; absolutely fabulous, but still a bit hard to see and breathe at the moment.

I wanted to write this week about house hunting and how I’m totally handling it and just kicking all kinds of ass, buuuuuut unfortunately I still haven’t found the house. Then I wanted to write to you about my tips for handling the stress of all of this rapid adulting, buuuuuut so far my only tips are cry, hug boyfriend, and eat ice cream.

I have no idea what to tell myself, let alone what to write to inspire and provoke you lovely readers, so I thought that this week might be a good time to talk to myself instead. Sounds a little ridiculous for someone who wants to have a lifestyle and advice blog, but I think you'll see why these notes proved helpful. Without further exhausted night-shift ramblings, here are my notes to myself.

Dear 5 year old Hannah,

First of all, those purple OshKosh B’Gosh overalls you wear are amazing and as far as I'm concerned, you slay Kindergarten. I want to warn you, you're about to be totally blindsided: In about a year you’re going to get another little sister, you won’t see it coming because you're obviously much too busy with first grade and riding the bus on your own all of that grown-up stuff, but I promise you it turns out even better than only having one. Plus, she never ends up conning you out of your toys like the other one. Try not to worry so much about being the oldest kid and growing up fast—you just keep enjoying your Disney VHS tapes until they fall apart and playing house with your sisters. Trust me, in less than 20 years you have grown up a little faster than you bargained for, and unfortunately we don’t live in the life-sized version of our pink Barbie RV (we’ll get there). Don’t change a thing, kid: you keep right on living and loving being 5. In as little as 5 more years you’re going to miss your life on the farm so bad, so keep playing, keep that goofy crooked smile on your face, and never stop saying “I love you” before you go to bed.

Love, you.

Dear 10 year old Hannah,

I’m very sorry to inform you that your wardrobe will later become something you laugh pretty hard at, but for now, you go girl. You rock that clip-on tie and t-shirt combo, you little punk chique wanna-be. Dry your tears and know that just because you aren’t popular at your new school doesn’t mean you aren’t fabulous—you’re going to grow up to have friendships that way out-do anything you see in the movies. Just keep having fun, even if it's with one person. Enjoy the opportunity to meet new people because in a year when yo go back to visit Clive school it's totally awkward and you miss your Ponoka friends. Be proud when you skip grade six in two years, and ignore the kids that try to take that moment away from you and make you feel like you don’t deserve it. In a few years it actually becomes cool to be a nerd, so you’re, like, totally a trend-setter. Oh, and to save you any grief, the teasing about having boobs before everyone else stops pretty quickly. You have fun with your purple glitter eyeshadow and just keep being you-- moving doesn't have to be JUST scary...I promise you there's fun in there too.

Love, you.

Dear 15 year old Hannah,

Save me, punk rock Hannah. And I dare you to accurately tell me who's on your shirt.

Ok I’d love to tell you how much you’re going to regret acting like you do right now, but your “rebellious” ass (seriously if you want to be a rebel you have to stop wearing ill-fitting Aeropostale t-shirts) will be happy to sneer to mom that we actually don’t regret it. We learn from it, yes, and we change big time, so in a way we’re kind of grateful for the learning. Bad news, though: in a few years; you end up believing that mom is right…..about everything. No, I’m serious. You also end up apologizing for making girls cry when you thought you were Torrence from Bring It On the year you were cheer captain, and for ignoring the majority of your graduating class because they didn't know all of the words to Wicked, and for saying mean things to your Dad because he told you to listen to mom. But: even though who you are right now isn’t who you’ll be forever, and even though we don’t end up super proud of how we acted, I want you to love yourself and enjoy yourself, because that’s exactly what leads us to grow and change when the time comes. Have FUN with dating and be with someone who makes you feel excited and happy! Start standing up for yourself when people try to take advantage of your age and perceived naivety, because that unfortunately still hasn’t stopped at present, but you end up a basically unshakeable woman because of it. Oh, and experiencing depression and anxiety doesn’t mean there’s anything “wrong with you” like people say at school: you are completely normal. Some day soon, it’ll be part of your job to advocate that fact, and you’re going to help so many kids who felt like you did because of this experience. We go through a lot in the next seven years or so, but you are surrounded by a great support system the whole time, I promise. You got this, girl. Now go buy some clothes that fit for god’s sake.

Love, you.

Dear 25 year old Hannah,

I was going to ask you if everything turned out okay, but after looking back on all that we’ve overcome just with self-love, enjoying the moment, and an amazing family to support me, I feel like I know the answer. I really hope you’re happy. I hope you aren’t house poor. I hope your eyeliner looks amazing, your hair is shiny, and you love your body. I hope you own a lot of pink and sparkly things. I hope your life is still an absolute mess, because I don’t want to be bored when I get there. No matter where we’re at, I hope you haven’t forgotten that change and growth doesn’t just have to be stressful, it can be accompanied by excitement and hope.

Love, you.

Turns out that all of those pins on pinterest telling me to stop looking into the past have been left off of my "slay" board for a reason; sometimes the best thing I can do when wondering how the hell I'm going to handle something is think about how the hell I did it before. Thank you all so much for reading and bearing with me while I get all of this adulating sorted, let me know what you think this week, and of course, don’t forget to Sparkle!

xox

An open letter to my girly-ness

Dear Girly-ness,

You haven't always been a part of my life, and I'm sorry I openly rejected you for so long as evidently displayed in the picture below. 



 Yeesh, I am really sorry. Wow, are those ghost socks? With brown runners? That tomboy phase lasted just a couple years too long. I was so worried to let you in and embrace you in the Avril Lavigne, Rocket Power, Blink 182 era I grew up in for fear of not being cool. I mean come on-- pink over a plaid tie with a white tank top? PLEASE. Though I'm sure you remember the day I decided my wardrobe would no longer be that of an 8 year old boy's, and the more I let you in, the less I cared about being cool and the more I realized how fun it was to have you around. I'm pretty sure that flower in my hair on the first day of grade 5 caused a few people to faint.

Still, I've recently realized that back when I was 10 wasn't the only time people talked badly about you, and that most of your haters these days are actually other women; women who aren't girly still say you represent self-hate and desperation, being a "slut" *shutter*, and even vanity (I mean come on ladies pick one, do I hate myself or am I obsessed with myself?). I'm not sure why, but it seems like people seem to think that if you're in someone's life, you make them weak, and they're no longer a strong woman who loves herself. Well, I'm all about raising people up these days since I officially became a social worker two days ago, so I thought I'd let you know the ways in which you've made me stronger to help you block out the haters.

I wanted to thank you for teaching me about persistence and hard work. No matter how many times I've made my eyebrows look like rectangles, or how many days my winged eyeliner takes 8 tries, you inspire me to keep trying. The art of makeup has slowly turned into one of my favourite hobbies and interests, and if I wasn't afraid to have my girly-ness, I may have never kept working at getting good at it. Not because I hate myself or want to cover up my appearance, but because I love to enhance my good features, and I know that I'll love the result when I figure it out.

Thank you for teaching me focus, visualization, and organization. For some reason, it's been established that only girly-girls enjoy vision boarding and getting ideas from others. Let's just talk about one of your many brainchildren, Pinterest. People can make fun of women for using it, but it's given me a lot more than something to procrastinate on. It's the most accessible way to make a vision board, store recipes, make fitness and meal plans, budget and plan for decorating my house. It basically helps me adult like every damn day, and I don't use it to covet what other women have, I don't get raging pinterest jealousy (seriously why is that a thing so many people reference?), I use it to get great ideas from other women and I use them to help myself out. If this is how girly girls procrastinate it's no wonder I've been kicking so much ass lately.

Thank you, girly-ness, for giving me confidence. My curiosity about fashion and seasonal trends grows every year, and I am so glad that you also chill with my mom, because that woman had me in all the latest trends the moment I decided wearing girl's clothes wouldn't kill me about ten years ago. Actually any item of clothing I'm complimented on, my mom got it for me. You've touched the many magicians of this world who have helped me learn to dress for my shape, and created the billions of beautiful shoes on this earth for me to wear and eventually fill my 10-foot tall shoe closet with when I'm famous. You've shown me that clothes don't just cover my skin but are a great way for me to express myself and feel great about how I do it. Plus, let's be honest, it's saved me a bit of embarrassment, though I could probably still rock those black ghost socks with brown shoes if I tried. I've never once felt like a follower when I see a trend and decide to be a part of it, I just feel like I'm part of the fun world that is fashion, and I love it. Oh, and thanks for showing me tall girls can wear heels too, despite my fellow women telling me I "didn't need them". They make my legs look AH-mazing-- I need that.

Thanks girly-ness for helping improve my empathy, humility, and friendship. Now that I know what it takes to pick out a cute outfit, or what goes in to getting your make-up and hair on point, I have so much appreciation for when I see the work my fellow women have put in to their appearances. I have never given out as many compliments in my life than I have since I learned about the art of the perfect cut crease eyeshadow and seeing so many women around me pull it off flawlessly. Being girly is a highly-scrutinized thing these days, so if anyone is displaying skills in the girly arts (make-up, fashion, nails, hair, strutting in heels, speaking Tyra), I admire that bravery more than I ever imagined. Being girly is kind of like joining a sub-group of girl that even other girls are quite weird about. Being part of a group of women who other women pick on and regard as dumb and self-obsessed has really made me appreciate all women, girly or not, who feel judged every day, no matter what for. It's taught me to appreciate my fellow women for what makes them who they are, and to be proud of them for being brave and embracing that when they do. You haven't made me a bitch like everyone said you would, you've made me appreciative and caring.

Thank you for teaching me commitment. No matter how stupid, ridiculous, or what a waste of time people say it is, you've kept us girly girls watching America's Next Top Model for 22 cycles and The Kardashians for 12 seasons. Thanks to you I keep my head held high and my phone held close for when I need to text someone about Kim's crying face.

And thank you, girly-ness, for making me happy. You aren't around because I hate myself or because I'm jealous of others or because I want attention from men or because I think I'm the best thing on this planet. You are a part of me because I like you and I want you to be.

Love,

Hannah


There you have it, readers. I've been seeing a lot of hate for the girly girls lately, and I was over it. Obviously Pinterest and The Kardashians haven't saved my life, but liking those things doesn't make me a bad person or a weak woman. Being a bad person would make me a bad person and being a weak woman would make me a weak woman. I love being a girly-girl, I love owning everything pink and sparkly I can get my hands on, and I am a strong, kick ass woman. All at the same time. Thanks for reading this week, leave a comment, suggest a mess, and don't forget to sparkle!

xox

Talk to my Graduate Hand.

Oh yes, both for high school and post-secondary alike, it's graduation season. A time where I creep dresses on instagram and facebook until my entire data plan is used up. A time where I call myself "old" for graduating 5 years ago and make all of the older women on my social media scowl. A time that now for the second time in my life went by much too quickly, leaving me to dread heading back to the real world on Monday and the amount of vodka-cranberries I had in celebration.

Yes, just a few days ago I had my second grad day, this time with the degree that permits me to be in my dream profession.

I had an awesome group of people come together to congratulate me this week (and 5 years ago), and I sincerely hope everyone feels that love on any and every grad day they may experience. So this week, I wanted to congratulate my graduate readers by responding to the people who don't exactly help with the celebrating.

As awesome as it is to have my degree, it's also terrifying and daunting, especially with everyone saying the classically really encouraging things people say to graduates like "welcome to real life" and "you think you're an adult now? well, just wait" and "my soul died when I entered the work force". I felt accomplished and excited most of my grad day, but I also had a slight existential crisis staring at my degree at about 9pm in which I pondered my choices and shovelled ice cream cake into my mouth. It's pretty hard to be excited when your soul is scheduled to die six days after you graduate. When I graduated high school I received messages of the same lovely nature like "this weekend will soon be irrelevant to you" and "you'll be miserable in university if you thought this was hard" and of course "you're still just a kid". Well good thing our dresses were shiny; we needed quite a bit of distraction to enjoy the day after those kind words.

Luckily those words never got the chance to rain on my parade, because I don't let anyone take any day, whether it be national pancake day, Harry Styles' birthday, or graduation day, away from me if I'm excited about it. When I had made it through high school that was fabulous and I deserved a fabulous time. You better believe I was excited to rock that dress and celebrate moving in to the next part of my, whatever that was going to be. And especially after completing post-secondary, I borrowed the hottest pink item of clothing I could find, strapped on some new heels, and strutted down that stage like I just won ANTM! The people who have said the rude phrases mentioned above are probably just bitter about their own graduation; maybe they got dumped by their grand march partner or wore the same dress as their arch nemesis or got a degree and hated their job, which all suck, but still gives no one the right to make me feel unaccomplished.

And so, here are my very sarcastic responses in hand-on-the-hip snapping fashion to each of these words of encouragement. Okay admittedly this post is a little snarky and sarcastic, but that's because the people who have said these things to me weren't trying to be helpful, they were trying to make me feel crappy, so they deserve a bit of sass:

1. Welcome to real life.
Well I think I was welcomed into real life when I got my first job at 13 years old, made payments on my first car, continued working two jobs in high school while playing sports and being in several plays per year and busting my ass in classes to get in to University, then moving away from my family at 17 to a city I was completely unfamiliar with, moving away from my family again at 18 when my mom was hospitalized for a serious accident, working shitty part time jobs to make rent, volunteering, and yet again busting my ass in full time classes for 5 years to finish off my degree with an A average. I'm certainly no expert on life yet, but I'm excited to learn about it. I'd like to write a letter to your welcoming committee, because they're doing a shit job on keeping up with their residents. 

2. You think you're an adult now? Well, just wait.
I'm 22, so, well.... yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm an adult? I'm not a model adult, I have not yet experienced the entire world at the age of 22, but thanks to my kick-ass parents and all of the other fabulous adults around me, I'm well prepared for taking on what remains to discover about "adult life". More importantly, I'm prepared to learn about the things I'll experience in the full-time working, mortgage-paying world, and I know I'm going to need help and make mistakes sometimes. Sorry, but I kind of figured out life isn't always easy a long time ago. Are you part of that aforementioned welcoming committee?

3. My soul died when I entered the work force.
Seriously guys, A TON of social workers have said this to me-- nice, huh? Granted, social work is an extremely challenging profession, but just like any other job, you can still have time for the good things. When I left high school, life got even better. When I left University and started job hunting and finding the building blocks to my dream jobs, life got even better than even better. No, I can't do whatever I want Monday-Friday, but my life isn't over. I can still take vacations and now I can get paid while I do it! If I dreaded having a schedule and responsibility and limited free-time, I wouldn't have entered this profession, let alone made it through school, and I honestly feel terrible for people who didn't know what they were in for, but I'm not one of them, and if I was, these words sure wouldn't help!

4. This weekend will soon be irrelevant to you.
No, the excitement in my life did not peak at my high school graduation, and I'm grateful for that. But even five years later looking at my high school grad pictures, I enjoy quite a few of the memories from that weekend. I guess some things are irrelevant, though: I've completely forgot anything I was stressed about, or anything that upset me, and admittedly a lot of pieces of the grad party night, but that weekend was fun, and you telling me it's stupid didn't make it any less exciting before or memorable after!

5. You'll be miserable in University if you thought this was hard.
I did struggle in high-school, especially with math and chemistry, but guess what? Social Workers don't have to take math or chemistry, and despite the myths and the reasons my math teacher tried to give me for not giving up on math (contradicting of course her telling me I sucked at math months earlier) I didn't even have to take stats. I was never miserable in University! I had to work hard, but I enjoyed the work I did, and I took a special interest in my classes because I got to pick them.

6. You're still just a kid.
Please see answers 1 through 5 *hair flip*.

So to all graduates, past, present, and future, stay excited. Life is going to be as good as you make it, and trust me, as a second-time graduate and full-time mess, I'm here to tell you that you can find success and happiness without having ALL of your shit together. Despite the negativity, I had so much fun at my second grad, and the ice cream cake helped stop my existential crisis. Thanks so much for reading my sass this week, please suggest a mess, and don't forget to sparkle!

xox

Housewife or Workaholic?

There are two main messages sent through media to men and women: how we should look and how we should act. I am fortunate enough to have grown up in a time where some of these messages about women were being challenged and myths were being busted. I pretty much cross-dressed until I was 11, and didn’t know that it may have been an issue for anyone, especially my mom, who is seriously such a good sport. I'm wondering how a girl my age might have written this even in the fifties like, "I am so fortunate to have more rights than the women of the 1800s. Gotta go, it's 3:30 and I haven't dusted, cooked dinner, and raised the children single handily."

In my waking years of University where I took Women's Studies 203 and Sociology 201, consequently becoming a genius and an activist obviously, I saw the destruction of the "perfect model look" and the exposing of photo shop secrets, the mocking of the "perfect housewife" expectation, and the rise of new ideas of what it meant to be a woman. My whole adolescence and not long before now I sat back in utter disbelief learning of the anecdotes and advertisements that were once mainstream even when my parents were kids; like I'm talking advertisements for cleaning supplies aimed at men, telling them how much their wife will love them and want to ravage them for buying them. Boy if you think I'm going to jump your bones when you hand me a bottle of Vim you had better think twice. Take that vacuum back and give me the money to buy myself some new shoes. 

Source: http://www.eonline.com/photos/12322/all-of-mindy-kaling-s-looks-in-the-mindy-project-s-romantic-season-2-finale/377927

So thinking I was completely immune to the media messages, I was going to write this post about the changes that have occurred regarding the representation of women in mainstream media. Literally the only thing that came up when I typed "women in media" in on Google just yesterday were tons of articles and images critiquing the misrepresentation of women. Instead, I wanted to write this post about some women in the media who I think are good role models: classy women who serve themselves and the world well, or women like Mindy Kaling who are hilarious, great writers first, famous fashionable diva's second. I wanted to pour myself a big glass of white wine and throw some shade about why Blake Lively is obviously a better role model than Kylie Jenner.... then I realized not only how shady that is, but how much that would perpetuate the messages I so blindly declared "dispelled" and then spent an hour doing my makeup for a selfie.

I’ve been thinking a bit about those messages, the ones about how we are supposed to look and act, and unfortunately I think they’re just as bad as ever. First, let’s take the way women are supposed to look. Sure, Tyra created a “no edit” challenge on ANTM Cycle 22, but there’s a new ridiculous expectation in town. We've replaced the expectation of skinny women with incredibly fit and just called it "strong" and "fitspo"—call me crazy but the pictures filling my social media feeds of women with incredible abs, butts, and legs kind of make me want to skip out on dinner more than the Loreal Ads in the magazine. So no, the media doesn’t endorse skinny, they endorse fit. On the other hand, women can be curvy, but only if they "own it" which basically involves talking about it all the time and posting pictures of their curves like 4 times per day and the message I get is there’s no in between. Like I’m not comfortable wearing horizontal striped crop tops these days, but I’m also not comfortable taking selfies angled from below my butt…. So where do I fit?

If anything, we've raised the bar for women and just tried to call the new expectations being "strong”, and not only physically, but mentally, too. Women aren’t confined to the option of staying home anymore…. They now have the pleasure of competing with each other to be the most impressive person ever, or otherwise end up with no respect. Why is it that the only women grabbing our attention have to be alleged geniuses or speaking at conferences or writing a heartfelt book (and not necessarily a good one—I’m looking at you Jenny McCarthy) or have overcome some awful thing in their life (like being curvy and not owning it with enough selfies and consequently losing 50 pounds while out of the public eye for 3 months). The pressure for women to stand out, to be the smartest, prettiest, most impressive and “strong” person in any given situation is creating an absolute mess, and not a remarkable sparkling one. Especially because there’s a flip side to this one just like the strong vs curvy thing; women need to be strong but you can't be too strong or you're a psycho. Women need to get out in the working world to prove to men and other women that they can do what they can and 1000 times better!... but if they do that too much they're non-feminine, grumpy, terrible people and the worst mothers in the world. Seriously? I’d rather be at home in the fifties vacuuming in a hoop skirt than have to listen to this garbage. 

I'm a normal girl, and you better believe that despite my seemingly critical thinking I am still subscribed to my beauty guru's on youtube, I am still curling up in my housecoat reading anything Mindy Kaling writes (ok but her stuff is good, Jenny), I am a sucker for summer fashion trends, including busting my ass to look better in the discount shorts I bought, and when Beyonce tells me to slay I get nervous and try really hard to learn the Lemonade choreography. I think what I hope to do moving forward is just remember that the things I like need to fit in with me, and not the other way around; the best thing about this abundance of media is that I can also pick and choose which messages work for me. I'll take that working woman hustle, mix it with everything pink and girly, and a body type that's right in the middle. Take that, "fitspo".

Thank you so much for reading this week, leave me a comment or send me a message with your feedback-- it makes writing this so much fun! Subscribe, suggest a mess, and don't forget to sparkle!

xox

The Heartbreak Formula

When I was thirteen, I was dumped for the first time, and obviously my life was over. A friend of mine suggested that I read a book called “30 Days to Getting over the Dork you Used to Call Your Boyfriend” by a lady named Clea Hantman; a masterpiece that is literally selling used on amazon for one cent plus shipping these days. Okay I can’t really speak to it being a masterpiece, because I actually only read one page of it, thinking I was cured of all of my heartbreak. This genius of a lady told me that the first step to avoiding heartbreak was knowing that my relationships most likely wouldn’t last forever. IT WAS A TOTAL REVOLUTION: All I needed to do was remember that moving forward and I would never ever be hurt again, and maybe as an added plus I would develop commitment issues and never connect with another human for fear of it ending.

Well, as much as miss Hantman was trying to help, the bigger problem was that this idea sounded much better when I was single than even minutes into a crush. I’m sorry, but after a first kiss with a guy, I don’t go home, climb into bed, think “ah, how insignificant and temporary this is” and drift into a comfortable sleep. I get excited, I get hopeful, I start really enjoying this person’s company, I make them a part of my every day, my plans, I start an album on my phone of all of the cute quotes I’m going to send them every day. It’s not as easy as reading a few pages of a book for the next month after to feel better when that all goes away. Sorry, Clea, but you can kiss my ass.

Just like relationships, breakups are going to look different for everyone, but I’ve learned a few things about them that sure made it easier as the years and boys rolled by. After my heart's been broken, I just try to remember and apply my Three F’s: Feelings, Friends, and Freedom IN THAT ORDER. Let’s take a walk through with the Queen herself to help:

Source: http://giphy.com/gifs/beyonce-lemonade-26AHtpSFcSc1zLFQI

Feelings

I can’t stand when people think it's comforting to say things like "this is for the best" and "just accept it and move on" and "he isn't worth your tears" and "you have Ben and Jerry's Rocky Road on your face please stop crying". Guess what? I have every right to be sad for more than a day about my breakup. I'm allowed to be angry and bitter when he gets a new girl WAY too soon, I'm allowed to miss the good times, I am allowed to take time to heal and figure it all out while listening to The Fray and Beyonce. I can't believe how often I still see posts on all different kinds of media telling girls to just "hold their head high and don't let anyone see you cry"-- screw that! I am allowed to be sad when I'm sad! What people should be preaching about is the dangers of how you express how you feel at this time. I'm pretty sure queen Bey is one of the only people who has the reason and right to go around smashing cars and driving monster trucks after she's been wronged: I think the mistake I've made in breakups is not being sad for too long, but in trying to make him feel bad by constantly reaching out to him or posting for all to see about how broken up I am or possibly trying to make the new girlfriend's life hell. Even though they were all idiots for leaving me, they didn't deserve to be pulled in over and over.....they kind of gave up that responsibility when they dumped me. And none of the new girlfriends were my friends...they had no reason to stay away from him if they felt for him, because he was single. That is what I "needed to accept and move on" from-- not my feelings, but the fact that it's over. From there comes the time you need for the feelings, and then comes the next F.

Source: http://giphy.com/gifs/beyonce-mv-formation-l4KhM9EDArm6dwSxq

Friends

Once I've had a bit of time to feel the sad and angry feels, it comes time to start taking steps to feeling happy ones. Disclaimer: It's important to know who your real friends are at this point, but you'll know pretty quickly. No word of a lie, I had "friends" in high school who as I got dumped went and chugged a bunch of beer and spent the night at my house completely ignoring me as I cried in my bed. My real friends were the ones who asked how I was doing, who tried to get me out of the house and do fun things and not re-start the P.S I Love You DVD over for the 400th time, or who even joined me for a cry and wiped my mascara off of my face. The most important thing I've learned about this F: my friends would get pretty sick of asking me to hang out if I kept wanting to having a pity party by myself and turning them down, because it's just as much my job to get my ass out with my friends as it's theirs to ask. Even if I wasn't totally feeling it, I learned that forcing myself out of bed and seeing my girls was the only way I'd start having fun and wanting to do it more often. The only way you'll start to feel good again is if you let yourself, and as much as you have the right to feel sad, you have the responsibility to build yourself back up, no matter how long that takes or how little the steps you need to take to do it are. You'll get there, so get in formation*.

*If any of you go through a breakup this summer you have literally the best songs to get angry to and turn up with your girls with on Beyonce's Lemonade album. 

Here's the other part of the Friends F: he isn't going to be my friend. You want to know how many of my exes I'm friends with today? 0. Want to know how many exes I tried to be friends with? All of them. It's something I've always done as a (somewhat desperate) last attempt not to lose the guy completely because I'm sad it's over, but it's pretty hard to say "Good, you?" instead of "DYING ON THE INSIDE BECAUSE YOU'VE COMPLETELY BROKEN MY HEART AND FEELING LIKE I'LL NEVER LOVE AGAIN." to the "friend" you just spent half a year dating and sleeping with (sorry moms). The breakups where I skipped the friend stage were the ones where I had a much easier time adjusting to them not being in my life because get this: they were no longer a part of my life! Girlfriends > Exes EVERY TIME.

Source: http://giphy.com/gifs/justin-beyonce-slay-i-3o6gb88EFZEuiCrgB2

Freedom

Also known as the flaunting or fabulous stage, the third F is obvious but I know I get so caught up in the sadness and healing and jealousy that I forget how seriously great I am on my own. The biggest and most positive change I've ever made in my life was after the most brutal breakup I ever had. When it was forced on me in such a dramatic way, I was kind of smacked in the face with my "loneliness", but it was the best look at myself I had in a long time, and it made me realize some of the greatest things about myself. It made me realize that I was strong, that I was independent, and that if I could get through that god-awful relationship, I could get through anything. It made me realize that wonderful family and friends I had around me, and that I wanted to make some changes to my boundaries and the way I related to people around me. It was scary at first, I was terrified, I didn't really want to have to stare at myself, but I ended up loving and caring for what I saw.

Another part of freedom is that if you're ready, if you want to, you can get back out there! Something about getting dumped, no matter who it's by, makes me feel so undesirable and different.....but I'm the same. Sad, a bit hurt, but still completely fabulous. Just because this dumb ass didn't want me definitely doesn't mean no one else will! Even when I've been the one who breaks it off, there have been times where I feel like I shouldn't be with other people "because I just got out of something serious"-- ugh, so dramatic. Please refer to my very first blog entry for more on this very simple point: DATING SHOULD BE FUN. Get back out there and have some, just as long as you're respecting yourself and taking care of yourself. A word from the not-so-wise: if you're going to try to date someone just to make him jealous, you're going to be wasting a lot of your time and energy, and hurting innocent people in the process. Do it for you. 

Well ladies, gents, everyone else, I hope you can use the three F's and may it always lead to you remembering you are fabulous. Thank you so much for reading, please suggest a mess and subscribe, and don't forget to Sparkle!

xox