There comes a time in life when you know you need to walk away. Whatever the situation is, you just know it.
I'm a born optimist. One of my MOs is to always assume best intent. In whatever someone does. Even if they do something hurtful or isn't there for you. Always assume best intent. But when they consistently seem to let you down, there comes a time when even the biggest optimist has to say "Enough is enough. I am done letting you drain me."
Two places I dread: malls and airports. Why, you ask? Because malls and airports are notorious for having escalators. Yes, I have an irrational fear of escalators. Wait, scratch the "irrational" part, because escalators are DEATH TRAPS.
I mean, seriously, who decided it would be a good idea to make stairs MOVE, let alone METAL stairs that look like a hundred RAZORS lined up perfectly in a row, and assume that everyone is coordinated enough to step onto said moving razors while at great heights? GENIUS.
Is it possible to have tons of friends and family around you, yet still feel lonely?
I think one of the most common human experiences is that of feeling lonely. Everyone feels lonely at one point or another. You could be a huge big-time celebrity, at the top of your game, with a million fans, a huge entourage, and people waiting on you hand and foot, and still feel lonely. You can have a husband, a gaggle of kids, and a dog, and still feel lonely. You can be single with multiple groups of friends, supportive family, and still feel alone.
How can all these people feel lonely when they're surrounded by people who love them?
I sit here in the room at my parents' house that my mom has designated "the Julie" room." Pictures from my childhood adorn the walls and the dressers. My Kindergarten photo, my high school graduation photo, my college sorority photo.
What strikes me about these pictures is that at each stage in life, there were different things that were important to me. When I was in Kindergarten, it was about coloring, playing, and not peeing in my pants. When I was in high school, it was about first dates, graduating, and not feeling awkward in my own skin. When I was in college, it was about partying with friends, figuring what to do with the rest of my life, and still not feeling awkward in my own skin.
And I'd say that at each of those moments, that's how I defined myself - student, daughter, friend trying to not feel awkward in my own skin. But when I sat down to put together this blog, the cursor stared at me as I attempted to write the "About Me" section.
Who the heck am I?
Remember back in the day, we used to flip through magazines to see what the new trends are? We used to look at pictures of models on those pages and think, "Gosh, she's so perfect. Why can't I be perfect like that?" We blamed the media and fashion magazines for teaching us at a young age what beauty is, what we should compare ourselves to.
I don't think it's a shocking revelation to say that social media plays that role for us now. And it's so much more powerful because it comes under the guise of being real. "This is just someone's IG account. She must have just woken up on a perfectly well made bed in a cute bralette and impeccable make up on." Riiiiight.
The thing is, we know it's not real. Our logical brains remind us that it's edited, it's staged. It's not real. But the more time we spend looking at it, the more we subconsciously begin to believe that it is what we should live up to, and the "Why am I not as [insert adjective here] as her?"
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