“Guys don’t like girls with calluses on their hands”.
After posting a photo of the proof on my hands that I lift heavy shit and put in the work on my body, I got a message telling me that men don’t like girls with calluses on their hands.
I sat there for a minute and looked at the message like, “Seriously dude?” and promptly responded something sassy along the lines of “the kind of beasts I date do” and left it at that.
I’m going to be 30 in a few days. 30 years old, it’s hard to believe. It feels like these past 10 years have flown by. To be honest with you, I’ve always felt older. I’ve always been one of the youngest people in every room most of my adult life. So NO, I’m not freaking out about hitting the big 3-0 like a lot of people keep asking. I’m actually excited.
Continue reading “Fuck Standing Still”
Big Fat Confession Time: I’ve been drowning.
These past 10 days, I have felt like I’ve been fighting to keep my head above water.
It’s like no matter what I plan or do, my head just has NOT been in the game, at all. Maybe for a few hours of the day but not my normal, “balls to the walls, crank out more work in 8 hours than most people do in a week” sort of way.
Which bothers the fuck out of me. It makes me feel like a fraud. It makes me feel like I’m failing. But when I stop and look at the 30,000 foot view, I’m still killing it.
Let me explain; Continue reading “Drowning”
When I say I am creating the life of my dreams, I mean it. But that doesn’t mean I always have a crystal clear view of what it all looks like in detail.
I have an outline, a guideline, an idea…but more importantly a FEELING. I know how I want to feel in my business, in my life, in my love. I know what I won’t settle for. I know what I want. I know what I’m willing to compromise on and what I’m not.
And I know that I CAN and WILL have it.
I remember the first time Tony told me he was just waiting for me to meet people I fit with from my space and move somewhere else.
Continue reading “Are You Missing Something Simply Because You’re Not Looking?”
I was 24 before I was ever taken on a real date.
Like the guy had it planned, picked me up at my house and took me out sort of date.
I had my first “official” boyfriend when I was 16, so that’s almost 10 years before meeting someone who was actually a gentleman and planned a date. Continue reading “A Real Date”
I was worried all day. I planned as much as I could because I thought that might help.
I puke all of my guts up in the car before we even go in.
I was going to pass out. I knew it. Continue reading “My Tattoo”