♡ the life of a 25 year old hopeless romantic ♡

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"This song is talking to the person you haven't even met yet. Maybe they're rolling around in the hay with someone else, but they're not as good as you're gonna be. You just have to wait your turn. He's out there, she's out there. They're just learning what to contrast you against."






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On Self-Image and Being Healthy.}
Sunday, March 24, 2013 | 10:50 PM | 0Comment

So, Internet. Here's where I spill the beans about where I've been.

Basically, I've been...normalizing. In an almost self-rehab process. Let me explain.

This is the first time I'm talking so frankly about this, and it's sort of difficult, so bear with me. In online school, and even before online school, I had a serious problem. My self esteem was...rock bottom. I mean, just terrible.
And I admit, my self esteem rose considerably after I started online school, because it caused me to become more independent and much MUCH less reliant on others around me. I'll always be grateful for that.

However, in middle school, my self esteem was absolutely ravaged. I think on the outside, I always seemed normal, and no one would probably expect it, but my self esteem was so low. I was...self harming.

The way I was self harming wasn't the way people normally think of self harm. I wasn't cutting. I wasn't contemplating suicide. I didn't have an eating disorder. But I wasn't taking care of myself in the following ways:

I wasn't bathing daily, sometimes I'd wait 3 days between showers.

I wasn't brushing my teeth. Ever. At all.

I wasn't washing my face. Ever.

I wasn't taking care of my hair--repeatedly frying it with heat so it would be perfectly straight so it would look naturally straight.

I wasn't drinking, and if I drank something, it was soda. And that's it.

And in addition to these things, I hated everything about my appearance. I hated the color of my skin. I hated the shape of my nose. I hated my hair. I hated my appearance because I wasn't Caucasian. I hated that I didn't have light eyes like my white friends. I hated that I didn't have straight hair like my white friends. I hated that I stood out. I wanted to look like everyone else at school.

And because I hated how I looked so much, I didn't bother taking care of myself. Basically, I think that I never thought I was worth it. That taking care of appearances was for pretty girls, and for me, I wasn't pretty, and that was the best my appearance was going to get, so why even bother at all?

This is very hard for me to write. I think it's so hard because this is something I've only come to realize within the past 6 months or so. I think I never wanted to accept it before, like this was something everyone did and it was how everyone felt about themselves and it was normal.

And that's whats scary about it, because it wasn't normal. Far from it.

Nobody should ever hate themselves so much. Nobody. And I did. For a very long time. For so long that it felt normal and right.

So. Once I realized this, I realized that I had to change. I had to. Because I couldn't go on living like that. Before, I wondered why I was so unhappy and I thought I needed therapy or something else new in my life to make me happy. But, that wasn't what I needed. I think the unhappiness came from living that way for so long.

So, the week January started, I decided to change.

First, I began exercising every day, with no skipping. A small amount, but you have to start somewhere, right? After the first week, and being extremely sore after just a week of 15 minutes of exercise daily, it disturbed me to realize how out of shape I am. But having the 3 years of online school where I had no physical exercise whatsoever, it makes sense. I'm still working on building up my endurance, and I'm still at a low level, but I'm getting a lot better at it. I feel a lot stronger than I did before.

Second, I started taking a shower every day. Even on the rare days that I don't exercise (usually due to my period since I feel like crap), showering is still a non-negotiable, every day thing. I'm so much cleaner than I used to be, and my skin is a lot healthier and softer, understandably. Also, I started taking much better care of my teeth.

Third, I began washing and exfoliating my face after every shower. I wash with a Neutrogena face wash and I exfoliate with my own sugar and honey scrub. The skin on my face has improved so much over 3 months, it's insane. It's funny, because before this, I had just assumed that I was just one of those people with severe acne and scars and I always would be. Now, my skin is almost completely clear with just a few spots here and there, and glowing. Just from washing and exfoliating every day. It's sort of funny, but it also pisses me off, because I think about all the wasted years I spent burying my skin under layers upon layers of makeup, thinking nothing would help my skin, when really just taking care of it would have done more for it than any makeup would have.

Fouth, I stopped drinking soda for good and am just drinking water, 100% juice, and tea now. Also, I've been eating better and eating less fast food.

I've tried changing like this before, but it's going to be permanent now. I won't be abusing myself anymore. Not even when I'm sad, or I'm tired and I don't feel like getting up and taking care of myself. Never again. I lost too many years treating myself like that, and I can't ever do that to myself again. I owe it to myself to treat myself better.

In addition to all of this, I've been interacting with people more and spending less time alone, including weekly driving lessons with my Auntie, whose been so patient with me during our lessons.

So. Do I feel better these days? Absolutely. I feel like even just 3 months has made a world of difference in how I felt before. I'm much happier. I still have some ways to go--Rome wasn't built in a day. It's a day-to-day process. I've had some setbacks, but after that, I get back up and keep going.

My goal right now? Normality. Real normality, not the unhealthy normal I'd grown used to. I think about this process as rehab. A self-rehab, almost. Self-therapy. No one can do this for me but myself, and it's about time that I do, don't you think?

So, that's what I've been doing. I haven't quite found the perfect balance of self-care and play (blogging) quite yet, but I'm working on it. Right now, I'm just trying to get the hang of this whole health thing. And I won't give up this time. I owe myself this.

xo Hopeless Romantic

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Belated Belated Belated Valentine's Day}
| 9:51 PM | 0Comment

Internet. What the hell is up?? (That was meant in a, 'Hey! How ya doin'? I haven't seen you in a while!' way, not in an angry accusatory way. Ahem.)

I really wanted to write this entry last month (on Single Awareness Day last month, to be exact) but I've been caught up in a lot lately. (You'll see what in my next entry, which is ACTUALLY coming up right after this one. I swear! Really!) So, I'm writing it now!

You guys should know by now that any thoughts about Ricky Bobby are very far and few for me now, so not freaked out by this, ok? Before this, I hadn't actually even thought of him since a few months ago when I randomly freaked out after that dream I had about him and blocked him on FB, haha. So no worries!

However. Since Valentine's Day was coming up, I couldn't help but think about the last pleasant Valentine's memory I had.

I have my share of negative Valentine's memories (read: Ricky Bobby 2.0 and the whole fiasco he created between Best Friend Rose and I in the 7th grade.) but incidentally this one comes from the 8th grade, with THE Ricky Bobby.

Okay. So something you guys should know first is my tutu stage in middle school. Man, did I love my tutu. I had this tutu that I actually wore to school with regular outfits. LITERALLY, over my jeans. I'd just wear it whenever I felt like it. And the weird thing: my school had a super strict dress code, and normally girls couldn't wear costume-like clothes to school. I'd even seen other girls wear tutus and get told to take them off.
But me? Never. My teachers always let me wear it, hell half the time my history and English teacher told me that I looked adorable in it. No one EVER told me to take it off. Not even the principal. Maybe because I always kissed the teacher's butts?? Who knows.

So yes, one the subject of the tutu: Valentine's Day in the 8th grade, I woke up that morning and decided I would be a Valentine's Day fairy. I woke up super early, composed an outfit made completely of red and pink and white, including pink patterned knee-high socks, my tutu, and huge red heart earrings. The night before, I had filled out two whole boxes of Valentines (one box of Tweety Bird, one box of Hello Kitty, with 'You!' in the 'to:' part), and the whole day at school I passed them out to random people in the hallways. It was fun, and I only got a small percentage of them thrown back at me (lol).

I finished lunch early that day, and I was going around the hallways looking for more people to give Valentines to. Out of the blue, I found Ricky Bobby, sitting down in the hallway by himself, looking sad. The thought of him being sad made me sad, and being in the upbeat mood I was in, it gave me a boost of confidence, so I decided to go over to him and see what was wrong.

I sat next to him, said hi, and after he said hi back, I asked what was wrong.

"I hate Valentine's Day," he said.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because it's stupid. There's all this romantic crap everywhere and it just makes you feel bad."

I chuckled, nodding. I still hated Valentine's Day at that point too, but I guess after the last one that I'd had, I wanted to make a nicer memory for that year. I tell Ricky Bobby this, and he tells me that he thinks that's cool. After that, we get up, and take a walk around the hallway together. I don't remember exactly what we were saying to each other, but I do remember just joking around and making small talk.

At this point in time, I definitely liked him, but it was before he found out. I remember thinking to myself how easy it was to talk to him, and how nervous I was, but also how just talking to him had made my whole day. It also freaked me out, it's worth noting.

Soon enough, it was about time to leave to our 6th period class, and he was about to leave to his locker. I told him to wait, reached into my bag of Valentines, and gave him one. "Happy Valentine's Day," I told him, half-laughing as I did. It was really meant to be a joke, in a ha-ha-you-hate-valentines-day-and-i-just-gave-you-one ironic way.

But he opened it up, stared at it, and looked up at me and smiled in the most genuine way, like the gesture had actually touched him. "Thank you, Sarah."

"You're welcome," I told him, smiling back, and then I turned around and left first, because my heart was pounding so fast and I felt like I was going to fall over right in front of him if I didn't leave right then.
I was so flustered, I didn't even realize that I was heading the wrong way for my next class, causing me to have to take the long way and be a minute or two late.

I think that was when I really realized how much I liked Ricky Bobby. The way he got so happy over a little cheap cartoon Valentine just....overwhelmed me. Like really, how adorable is that?

That was always a personality trait I liked in RB. He was always so appreciative of the littlest things. (See my first entry, where I talk about the going away present I gave him.) I think that's a nice trait to have.

Anyway, my Valentine's Day this year was...very uneventful. Usually I do something that I love or something that's fun to chase away the blues but this year I just...did nothing. Haha. I watched TV and surfed the Internet. I watched Ridiculousness with my mom for a little bit, but after a while my mood turned sour so I went up to my room and listened to music. Yep. Pretty lame.

Not like it's a rule to do something special on V-day anyway, but still. Not a memorable day in the slightest.

But at least I have the memory of that Valentine's to remember. It's very sweet, and even though Ricky Bobby is out of my life now, I'll cherish that nice memory.

xo Hopeless Romantic 

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