Mindless Ranting

Why is it that people, especially older relatives, expect us to live our lives how they deem fit?

I mean, there’s giving advice and then there’s outright telling you what you can and cannot do. Whether it be who you hang out with, what you wear, or even what you do later in life. It’s as if they get this power trip when they see you as a baby, and they justify taking over your life and living through you because they’re older and “wiser”. Almost everyone has this person in their life. In my case, it was my mother. She was a helicopter mom that was also praised as being the “cool” mom.

She was a helicopter mom that was also praised as being the “cool” mom. All of my friends adored her and thought she was such fucking amazing because she talked to them like friends; however, she was picking my classes while I was in high. My friends laughed with her singing to music in the car, while I had to experience her mental breakdowns and her literally applying to colleges for me because I was undecided. I listened to them tell me that I was so lucky, only to listen to her telling me all of the dreams, goals, and ambitions I should have simply because she wanted me to be what she wasn’t.

I didn’t become my own person until I was nineteen. Once I turned eighteen and my life turned to shit, I started thinking through my depression. I wallowed in bed all day and contemplated how unhappy I was, wishing for death and then getting sad because it’d be pathetic to die in my state. I spent nearly two years fucking miserable because I wasn’t living my life, and, once I took a step in the direction of independence, my mother flipped the fuck out.

She wanted the daughter she bragged about to her friends. She loved rubbing it in her friend’s faces that I did well in school, it made her proud that I was a virgin while her friends had kids getting pregnant as teenagers, and I was proclaimed as her “future doctor daughter”. There was no say from me. If I expressed doubt, I was quickly silenced by her telling me that I was young and ahead of everyone else.

It’s the main reason I feel so far behind now.

But, once I turned nineteen, things changed. I failed dropped out of my University and enrolled in a cheaper community college. It was cheaper for me and closer to home, but my mom made sure to sit me down and inform me that I was a failure and that she was going to watch me fail and live through the mistake. Yes, I did fail, but only because I was told that what I did didn’t matter.

She then decided to make my relationship harder. Everything from cornering my boyfriends parents in the grocery store with her buggy to tell them that she is kicking me out and moving me into their place to calling the cops on my boyfriend for wanting to talk to her about what she doesn’t like him. She blames him for me dropping out, but I expressed not wanting to go to a University due to confusion from the start. Her response was to tell me she wouldn’t love me if I dropped out of school.

And, oh, dear God, she stayed true to her fucking word.

I paid her $500 a month for rent for two years, but after she started kicking me out I stopped. I was her fucking crutch when she left my abusive step-father and was crying at night. I fucking had to deal with being her psychologist and backbone from the age of twelve. I was there for her on the hard nights. And, yeah, she was there for me when I went through my surgeries, but she has been absent for my depression.

She’s denied my eating disorder, my suicide attempt, my depression, and everything that tells her that I’m fucking miserable. She doesn’t want a daughter who isn’t a happy go lucky princess, and she’d rather fucking hate the shell I am than help me rebuild. Because of her choices, she knows nothing about me. She’d rather have a stranger she resents than a daughter she aids.

After years of promising me a car, she never followed through. Even to this day, but it’s totally okay because she has her Benz. She even promised to help me get to jobs with her car once I got a job, and then changed her mind last minute. She promises to pay for my tuition, and then tells me to make my boyfriend or his parents pay for me once I register for classes. But, once again, I’m totally fine with it because she gets to throw in my face how much of a failure I am. She can tell her friends and the rest of the family that I shack up with my boyfriend and I’m wasting my life, but you don’t fucking help me when I’ve been basically fucking screaming it for almost three years.

This is my fucking life, dammit. I deserve to be happy and I deserve to live it how I plan on it. If I want to be with my boyfriend now, regardless of what happens in the future, that is my life choice. If I don’t want to be in a University, it is my choice.

I want my voice to matter just as much as it would if I was listening to everything she told me. I want my mind to matter.



“Don’t grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form.”

– Jalaluddin Rumi 

It’s like life throws a wrench between my wheels whenever I try to make the most of what I have.

I see myself as a strong person. Independent, no, but I know for damn sure that I’m strong. I’ve seen and experienced domestic violence, sexual assault, three surgeries in one year, crippling depression, and constant anxiety. However, my strength doesn’t compare to the women who deal with being married off as children or the poor children starving and fighting wars.

So, Universe, if this is you testing me or my strength, then I am happy that you deem me strong enough to handle a life where I have to build a foundation on my emotional and mental labor. I will gladly be a warrior for zen and health and happiness regardless of what is thrown at me. I gladly acceptI was blessed with life and a long list of first world problems,

I will overcome and I will conquer every single fucking thing you throw at me. This life is fucking temporary and I am so fucking done wasting the precious moments I have left. I spent twenty-fucking-one years dwelling on issues that don’t fucking matter at the present, and so many countless hours stressing over what has happened in my short time.

I know for a fact that I am going to overcome and conquer anything and everything given to me and build an empire on the ashes of my past. I will burn everything in my trail and leave with burns on my body and a smile on my face. I was blessed with life and a long list of first world problems.


“Giving up is the only sure way to fail.” 

– Gena Showalter

I’ve found that I have an amazing talent for setting myself up for failure. Like many people, I have so many big aspirations and goals, but my laziness prevents me from achieving them. Like yesterday and, almost, today.

This year is like a brand new, shiny toy that I was gifted with by the universe or fate or whatever. I was able to make it another year with little to no baggage, just hope. Maybe my natural sense of pessimism is also a reason, but the voice in my head telling me that I’m going to fail and telling me to never try is starting to irritate me.

But this year was all new for me to start fresh, and I made a reason not to blog and not to do yoga. I have obligations to myself. Wow, my overuse of the word “I” is getting obnoxious.

Laziness. Pessimism. Selfishness.

Those are things that I want to get rid of. Starting now, I will accept mistakes and let go of all of the things holding me back. I don’t want to be the girl that never succeeds because of my self-centered views.

The world is so much bigger than me, and the Universe even bigger than Earth. Everything passes and time is only finite. There’s no time for wallowing in regrets and mistakes. There’s only learning and accepting and moving forward to begin with those life lessons in mind.

I can do this.

I am worthy of becoming the person I so desperately seek to be.