24 things I wish I had known before I turned 24

1. Your first heartbreak is going to be the worst. You’ll be fine within the year.
2. They don't care if you cut your wrists or your legs or your hands or feet for her. Don’t do it.
3. Enveloping yourself in a book or movie on a Friday night is okay. There will be parties next weekend, too.
4. Don’t play hard to get. Don’t play any games at all. If you have to play a game with someone to get them to fall for you, they aren’t worth it.
5. When you find out anyone cheated and you run out of the restaurant and punch a light pole til your knuckles are bleeding and bruised, remember that people can see you. Don’t show them how weak you are.
6. When you find the next person who makes you feel something for the first time after your last break up, do not trust them. They know you are vulnerable and will use it against you.
7. Run from anyone you feel a magnetic pull towards. If you are drawn to someone you barely know, run. That will never end well.
8. Thank your parents. They really do love you.
9. There will come a day when you begin to say the things your parents told you. This is just a sign of you growing and maturing. It's natural.
10. Your priorities should be yourself, then school, then partying. In that order.
11. You’re gonna wanna say, “I love you” much sooner than you should. Make sure you’re both ready for it.
12. You don’t NEED anyone but yourself and a good group of people that loves you. A significant other will not fill the void in your heart.
13. You can like whatever music or movies you want. Don’t let anyone tell you you’re bad or stupid for the things you enjoy.
14. When your animal dies it’s gonna break your fucking heart. It’s okay.
15. Never open your mouth when you’re angry.
16. It’s okay to cry. Whether it’s because you failed a test, the book/movie was really good, or your chest is ripped wide open because someone left without a warning, you can cry.
17. People are gonna leave. That’s not a reflection of you, don’t blame yourself.
18. Don't worry that you don't have life figured out. No one else does, either. Life is just a lot of trial and error. Just be sure to learn from your mistakes. 
19. Smoking cigarettes will not benefit you in any way. Stop while you’re ahead.
20. There's no need to drink every night. You might be stressed, you might have had a bad day, but put the wine back. Go for a run instead. You'll feel better and won't hate yourself in the morning. Especially those mornings you have to be up early.
21. If you are not a whole person, do not try to date someone. Two halves don’t make a whole. They make a broken and toxic relationship.
22. If they call you on your birthday and tell you they are seeing someone else, do not stay on the phone and cry. Do not tell them you miss them. Say, “I’ve gotta go, it’s my birthday.” And never speak to them again.
23. You are always good enough. If people don’t want you, it’s a reflection of their shortcomings, not your own.
24. If you want it, go for it. Don't worry about what other people might say or what anyone else might think. Try now, because you might not be able to later, 

My body is not my own

Whenever a photo of a young, teenage me resurfaces, I can’t help but be floored by how… thin I was. That’s what strikes me first. And I believe it’s probably because at that time, I always thought I was 5-10 lbs away from being at an even remotely acceptable weight. I still wonder who made me believe that “fat” is a label that makes you less of a person, that it’s the one adjective you do not want to be. The answer is nobody really, but everybody at the same time.

I realized that whether or not I was “fat” was a predominant concern of mine, because I had nothing else to justify to myself that I was worth anything more. So I looked to other people and their overwhelmingly enthusiastic comments on my appearance and accepted that as validity of my whole being.

Though this was years ago, I still see women who forcefully, sometimes violently and often bitterly carve themselves back into the perfect teenage bodies they did or didn’t have when their womanly shapes are burgeoning through. And while the better part of me wonders why, my good sense understands exactly. And sometimes I still am that woman, or rather, sometimes I still am that 13-year-old girl, and what that girl did in those days was assign ownership of her body to the people who would judge it. The same thing I still see grown women doing now.

I let the compliments and feelings of love and appreciation for my physical appearance compile and create for me a resting ground on which I knew I could always rely. But that wasn’t enough, because it was built from other people. People who could (and would) retract their doting comments of approval just as quickly as they dished them out. This is the core of instability, my friends. It was that part of myself in which I took pride and ownership, but it was not mine at all. I didn’t love myself for who I was, I loved myself for who I was because other people would love it.

I realized that I was in a place where I would spend forever asking the people I was dating “will you love me if I’m 300 lbs?” and I would spend forever at the whim of the dress that didn’t fit and the legislation that didn’t seem fair and the comments that made me feel whole because they made me believe that on the outside, I was worthy of that feeling. I would spend forever believing that my body would never be mine, rather, something to be adjusted for the sake of other people’s opinions. Opinions, I realized, that were rooted in their own sense of self-deprecation. Not because they were that invested in me.

It was only years and flurries of pant size fluctuation, months of self-loathing and days upon days of searching for the cure to my incessant need to be beautiful in other people’s eyes that a very important truth dawned on me. The problem wasn’t what other people would say or do or believe, it was what I interpreted from those words and actions and thoughts. The problem was me all along.

And so now here I am. An adult woman, defiantly redefining herself each day, moving farther and farther away from unhealthy mindsets and toxic opinions, but who still can’t help but wonder how many girls still believe that their bodies won’t ever be theirs. And it’s one of those things in which no words that I can offer can really heal, because it’s the journey that will save you from it.

So wherever you are on that long, twisty road, reader who made it this far down because something in this struck a chord with you, I hope you realize what I realized far too late in the game. That acceptance is usually not something that arrives in bits and pieces. It sweeps through you when it’s present, it creates avenues where there were road blocks and understanding where there was frustration. Find it in you, dig it out from under the shit pile the world threw on it and let it infiltrate everything. That’s where we dawn on a life that doesn’t require other people to approve of it, and where we’ll all meet eventually, the day we realize that it’s in judging other people that we intoxicate ourselves.

It's okay to be vulnerable

One of the most fear-inducing situations to be in is one of vulnerability. We go to extreme lengths to avoid it at all costs. We’re willing to lie to ourselves about what we want, who we really are, what our true intentions are. We close our eyes, shift truths, sabotage ourselves, reinforce defenses.

To be vulnerable is first and foremost to be honest with ourselves. It’s to voluntarily disarm our own defenses and shine light to those festering things we’d rather leave unclaimed in the dark. It’s to fully own up to our shame, our hopes, our insecurities, our fears.

Then to act upon this vulnerability is to expose the very stuff we are made of. Bare our bones, face judgment and rejection. Understand the risks, fight for what we want. Surrender control and hope. Open ourselves up to the possibility that what will happen next will break and remake who we are. To embrace vulnerability is to be made aware of our own fragility and powerlessness. It comes with internal struggle and emotional turmoil - and that is fucking terrifying.

It’s understandable why we would be afraid, why the mere thought makes us want to instead strengthen our defenses. We walk around with built-in security systems designed to find anything that may threaten exposure, to protect us from those who may be getting too close. We focus our energy constructing an attractive, protective, perfect vision of who we are. It’s almost too easy to be someone we’re not, to fall into a routine of distracting ourselves from ourselves. We drink, party, fuck, shop, fall fast and hard into romances that have no substance. Do things for the momentary thrill of escape, for those few moments we can forget ourselves.

The consequence of exchanging vulnerability for an illusory perception of who we are is that we become a hazard to ourselves. It’s an act of betrayal when we shut out parts of ourselves, especially the parts that we are afraid of. We leave the scary bits to fester, grow, and become something unrecognizable within us while indulging in a false sense of security.

One of my favorite songs has the lyrics, “But a prayer without belief is like a pill without relief so I'll just save us both the letting down.”  Being vulnerable means opening yourself up to others, being able to ask for help, being honest with those around you. Being able to let others into your life instead of hiding behind walls and trying to never let anyone down with who you really are. Being vulnerable takes courage, and nothing about this is easy. But the things that make us feel vulnerable and scared are often the things that define who we are.

And to turn our backs on that is to exist in an anesthetized and stagnant state of being.

This past year has been marked by vulnerability. At times, it left me scared, defenseless, exhausted, exposed, defeated, raw, and unnerved. I look back and realize I had a choice every step of the way. I could either take a long, hard look at myself and own and expose my demons within or I could continue to withdraw and protect myself.

And I have finally chosen vulnerability.

We can all pretend, but the parts we’ve locked and vaulted away will still be there waiting for us. So be vulnerable, it will be alright. There’s no regret in being true to who we are, fighting for what is really important to us and evolving into who we were truly meant to be.

Theknotpostsecret

So, I was reading theknotpostsecret and I saw this secret:

and it really made me think. I had an eating disorder for about five years and only recently have I been able to start to over come it. I doubt that the person that originally posted this is going to read this, but if they do, I want them to know they aren't the only one that goes through this. I feel like this all the time, even though I hear people tell me I'm beautiful and I never heard that before in my entire life.

You aren't alone. This feeling never goes away, but it does get a little better. And having people that really care about me have been more helpful than any psychiatrist ever was.