Tag Archives: writing

I Can Do Anything

6 Feb

I wasn’t planning on doing it. For a moment, I didn’t want to do it. Didn’t think I could handle it. I felt my nerves kicking in, my hands starting to shake. I gripped Jordan’s hand tighter and made him tell me that’d it’d be okay. My aunt told me to remember that my grandpa always believed I could do anything. My grandma told me to think happy thoughts- to think of the wedding. And with tears in her eyes, she said it would mean so much to her. So much to her, if I read the poem aloud.

So I did it. At 23-years-old, I stood in front of 115 people and read my first eulogy.  The church was quiet and people were crying, but somehow, I managed to get through 3/4 of it without crying. At the end, I broke down. I paused too long between sentences, giving myself time to think about what I was saying, what I had wrote. Later, my sister’s boyfriend joked that my tears were perfect timing- I guess I wasn’t the only one who lost it at that moment. I managed to improvise, finishing my sentence, and getting back to my pew as fast as my heels would move me. I didn’t want to break into the ugly cry in front of that many people.

It was more difficult than my driver’s test, more difficult than my college applications, more difficult than my first surgery. But I did it. I read what I had written aloud, displaying my emotions for 1oo-something people to hear.

And it made me realize- I’m stronger than I give myself credit for. Family members I barely know came up to me and hugged me, thanked me. My cousin- my seemingly fearless, go-with-the-flow cousin- told me I was brave.

If I can do that, I can do anything.

Thank you, Grandpa, for allowing me to realize that.



Welcome to the Real World

18 Oct

Lately I’ve been struggling. With my entrance into the “real world.”


Perhaps it’s just life in general. The changes. The monotony. I’ve been debating whether to talk about it or not, but Colleen and Clare have recently shared their ups and downs of growing up, and I know that I can relate to their stories, so I’m hoping that many of you will be able to relate to mine.

I feel like I’m being petty when I state my frustrations, but I’m having a hard time dealing with the way I feel. Always anxious. Always going. Always something on my mind.

I’m only three months into my job, and I’m already feeling the monotony of a 9-5 desk job. I suppose this is to be expected when I’m pursuing a career in writing, but sitting for 8 hours is just not something I enjoy. The office is dark- my eyes always ache. I’m constantly cold. And although I enjoy writing, I’m physically uncomfortable everyday, and it affects my mental alertness.

Exhaustion is my new norm

My commute to work doesn’t help my mood. Two hours of my day are spent in the car, and though I try to enjoy my “alone time” and morning radio show, I can only take so much of it day after day. By the time I leave work I have a million things on my mind, and I’m usually trying to figure out how I’ll squeeze everything in before I go to bed.






Of course I have to fit laundry and cleaning somewhere in there, and I usually save my social life for the weekends.

Am I just complaining? Maybe. Am I tired? Definitely. Am I hopeless? Of course not.

Although college wasn’t always my favorite, I miss the challenge that my classes brought me. I miss walking across campus between each and every class (read: fresh air+sunlight+exercise= happy Emily). I miss having time to socialize with people face-to-face, and volunteering with my campus organization. I miss the variety that college brought to my sort of mundane lifestyle. Which makes me wonder…

Maybe a desk job isn’t for me? Maybe the 9-5 daily grind isn’t what I’m meant to do?

I’m just trying to figure out what it is that I should be doing. And it’s difficult.

But no one said growing up would be easy.

Do you know what you want to do with your life?

How do you find happiness in sometimes frustrating situations?


When I realized my “block”

14 Oct

Every writer will admit to “writer’s block” every once in awhile. It’s bound to happen, like it or not. Recently, however,  I realized that my “block” is  larger than being at a loss for words; it is perfectionism.

I’ll admit, I used to blame my perfectionism on the “oldest child syndrome.” You know, the “you’re the guinea pig; we didn’t know we were putting pressure on you; we expect you to live up to our  expectations because we took the most time perfecting you as a child” syndrome.

Then I came to the realization that, while in my 20s, I can no longer blame my perfectionism (the bulk of it, at least) on my childhood. Which leads me to this blog.

Taking 18 credit hours, working 10 hours a week, continuing my relationship in a positive way with my boyfriend, managing to have friends and see my family, led me to a breakdown. After all, trying to perfect a balancing act will do that to a person. So I decided to take control of my life. I decided (to learn) to let go of my self-diagnosed syndrome, perfectionism.

I quit my job. I had a (long) conversation, well, meltdown, with my boyfriend (he should win “boyfriend of the year” for dealing with my emotions-seriously). I told myself that my true friends , and family, would understand my need to shut myself in my room and relax. And I started my blog. Instead of making money, I will sit here and write about not having it (just kidding…).

So here’s my story. Finishing my education, pursuing a career… growing up. Living a simpler life, overcoming pefection, gaining happiness.