February 25, 2016

3.5 years

Dear Justin, 

You are the cheese to my macaroni, the glue stick to my craft project, and the ugly sweaters in the thrift store of my heart. I love you more than red Gatorade, wireless internet, and all of our tv shows combined. I love that you make mundane things like grocery shopping, and being at work together fun.

Thank you for making me see the good parts of myself even when all I see are the ugly ones. Thank you for letting me steal the covers and put my feet on your half of the bed. Thank you for being my partner in crime and always having my back. 

I can't believe we've been together for 3.5 years. It still feels like just yesterday it was 2012 and we were meeting in person for the first time. You've brought so much light into my life, and I am so so grateful for that. And for you. 

I love you, baby. xoxo 

(photo from the day after we got engaged, april 2015)

February 24, 2016


Be delicate. Be soft. Be vulnerable. Get as uncomfortable as you can stand to be and still fight your battles. You'll love yourself more, I promise. And then you'll have something you never knew you had: strength. 

February 22, 2016

summer minibook: july

Remember when I started the summer mini book? Then life happened and August got away from me, and now here we are in February and I'm finally sharing the completed July portion. I loved documenting my summer last year and I'm so excited to start another summer mini book this year.

Supplies used: photos printed through the FreePrints iPhone app, cheap Kmart craft paint, Crayola colored pencils, Dollar General letter stickers & labels, Sharpie, washable markers

February 21, 2016

i stand with kesha

Long story short, Kesha is battling to get out of her contract with her producer Dr. Luke who she's bound to for SIX MORE ALBUMS. He mentally & sexually abused her. And a court denied her claims saying "there isn't enough evidence."

Let me tell you a story. 

When I was a junior in high school, life started getting better for me. My abuser had graduated and I didn't have to worry about seeing him every day. I was finally free. I started doing things after school again. I joined the school newspaper and was super excited to be a part of something. 

After the first meeting I went to, I got my stuff out of my locker and walked down to my car. I had to go through the cafeteria where the juggling club met in order to get to my car, and when I came into the cafeteria that day I couldn't believe it. Right in front of me stood my abuser, who had graduated the year before, participating in a high school club. 

I tried to shove down the panic attack that arose. I tried to make small talk with the boy that stopped me to make sure I was okay. I tried to make it to my car without crying. (Spoiler alert: I failed at all three of these things.) I told my mom about it when I got home, and then she started making phone calls. 

At this point, I had reported my sexual abuse to the school counselor about six months prior. I had started therapy and had been diagnosed with PTSD. But I was still wrestling with a big decision: did I want to press charges or not? 

My mom made phone calls to the administration at my high school. I had to sit down and talk with the assistant principal for an hour only to have him tell me that "kicking someone out of a high school club is like kicking someone out of a basketball game. We can't do it."

It's been SEVEN YEARS and I'm still bitter about this. Which makes everything happening with Kesha right now hit really close to home. 

I stopped showing up to newspaper. I once again made myself smaller and let him win. I didn't feel safe at school anymore. If he could come back for a club every week, who was going to stop him from coming back all the time? The administration wasn't going to do anything. I had lost a battle there was no hope of winning in the first place. 

This is why rape culture is winning. Because Kesha can't get out of her contract. Because I didn't feel safe in school. What type of message are we sending as a nation to girls everywhere? If someone as famous as Kesha can't get away from her abuser, what hope do the rest of us have?

#istandwithkesha #freekesha #sonysupportsrape

February 20, 2016

thanks, mother nature

The past few days have felt like SPRING. Real 40-degree, not winter coat wearing, wet and slushy but still SPRING. I am probably way (way) more excited than I should be because it's only February and we still have a whole month left of winter. But Adrian's opens soon. And we all know that's the first sign of spring in my book. 

February 18, 2016

run with it

When you love something, you make time for it. And I have been horrible at making time for the things I love this week. So today I picked this scarf up again. It's been sitting in my knitting bag, untouched for the last month. I'm going to finish it by the end of the month. #makeitpublicmakeithappen 

February 17, 2016

currently, february edition

loving the mug Justin's parents got for me while they were in Vegas last week

wishing I hadn't agreed to work a baby shift today (aka I'm taking a nap when I get home)

retyping this post after I forgot to save my first draft

editing my photos with A Color Story app (I'm hooked on the curves tool!)

craving breakfast foods all the time

reading east of eden by john steinbeck

purchasing a new laptop with my tax refund, which means I'm...

crossing #16 off my birthday list 

feeling like February is the longest month ever

willing spring to show its face around here

searching for apartments

hoping (really needing) we find one that allows cats

enjoying all the sunshine the last few days

February 14, 2016

valentine's day

We've had a low key Valentine's Day this year (which is honestly our fav way to do holidays).

We both had to work this morning which made work not feel like work.

I braved the snow and went grocery shopping while Justin cleaned up the house.

I got him a giant Reese's heart. 

He got me a pink and white rose.

I love him. I love us. 

Happy Valentines Day. 

February 13, 2016

dear saturday

You're pretty awesome so far. Justin and I woke up at the same time (which never happens). I made coffee. He fed the cats their breakfast. Now we're snuggled on the couch watching Nightwatch until I have to get ready for work. Slow, easy weekend mornings are my fav. 

February 11, 2016

thank god it's thursday

I love sunny days. Especially when we get two in a row. They make the cloudy, grey days worth it. (Speaking of... Grey's comes back tonight!) Justin's working tonight so it's just me, the cats, and a personal pan pizza. 

February 10, 2016

5 years

I tweeted this morning, "I pretty much owe coffee the portion of my soul that I didn't sell to SCAD for overpriced art supplies & a shitty education system." 

I don't remember the last time I even thought about SCAD. And then I realized that SCAD was five years ago. In March, it will be five years since I dropped out of college. Being in Savannah feels like a lifetime ago, but also in some ways it feels like only yesterday. 

If I could go back in time and tell my eighteen-year-old, fresh outta high school me anything, it would be, "Don't be afraid."

I made the choice to go to college 1,500 miles away from home, in a city I had never been to, and every face I saw belonged to a complete stranger. In the 6 months that I called Savannah home, I was incredibly homesick—but also sort of in love with my independence.

It took me a while to find my footing. To adjust to living "on my own" for the first time. I was (and still am) grateful for my 365 during my first quarter. Those raw feelings of homesickness and doubt are so apparent in almost all of my Savannah pictures. They're almost like my vulnerable selfies project: they show true emotion and that's why I love them so much. 

It's crazy how much change in 5 years. It's really crazy how much I've grown up in the past 5 years. It makes me wonder what I'll feel like 5 years from now. What moments will stick out the most in my life? What will I want to tell my current self with my newfound wisdom that only comes through lived experiences? 

5 years from now, I will be 28. I have a feeling my life will be completely different from where it is now. I can't wait to see what's in store. 

February 09, 2016

it's a magic day.

The sky tonight was rad. And work went by quickly. And I have the next two days off. Life is sweet. 

February 08, 2016


Dear February,

It would be nice (so freaking nice) if you could stop teasing us with 40-degree weather one day and then snowing immediately the day after. 

Also, Spring? HURRY UP. 

February 07, 2016

super bowl sunday

Good things: we both worked first shift today so we got done early, we're boycotting the Super Bowl and watching a COPS marathon instead, and there's plenty of pizza to go around. Happy Sunday. 

February 06, 2016

the best part about winter

Things I like about winter... icicles, snow days, the first snowfall, hot chocolate, knitting, wearing sweaters, mittens, snowball fights, coffee, golden hour sunlight against white snow, the silence of snowfall, all the blankets on the bed, being cozy, using the fireplace, stovetop popcorn, my tv shows come back, soup, wearing scarves, cuddling, light parties. 

February 04, 2016


I was going through my Flickr archives last night, paging through all the photos from my first 365 one by one. I would love to get back to this point with photography and self portraiture again. Where I love it so much I live, eat, sleep and breathe it.

Note to self: MAKE TIME FOR MAKING. You'll thank yourself for it later. 

February 03, 2016

February 01, 2016

let's talk mental health

I am a walking, talking anxiety attack.

Let me rephrase that: I am a fucking mess right now and I don't know how to make it stop. 

Two weeks ago, my abuser apologized for my sexual abuse over Facebook messenger. It started with a "Hey." An inconsequential, innocent greeting... Unless it's the first thing you say to somebody in at least 6 years of an understood, never-spoken contract: don't speak to each other unless you're at family things and you're expected to. 

"I am truly sorry for what happened. I'm not using it as an excuse, but I was fucked up back then and just not who I am now. I just wanted you to know I regret what happened."

Last week a fog cleared in my brain and I finally processed everything that happened. And then I didn't get out of bed for three days. And I stopped showering. And I sat in my car at work and cried, thinking "What The Fuck is wrong with me?" And then my anxiety kicked in. And now I'm trying to figure all this stuff out. 

When I was sixteen, after I had reported everything, I started going to therapy and worked through all my shit. I had health insurance and I got lucky because I found my therapist—truly, she was the perfect fit for me—on the first try. (Fun fact: my best friend and I both went to her when we were in high school!) She saved my life. 

Last night, I shoved down my anxiety for long enough to apply for health insurance so I can get my butt back in therapy to figure this stuff out. I'm looking for therapists in my area and all I can think about is "I hope I like them. I hope I feel like I can trust them." I'm scared of swinging around on a wrecking ball a la Miley Cyrus and breaking all the walls that I have been hiding behind for the last 10 years. 

I want to dive deeper than I did last time. I want to go deeper than the PTSD and my abuse story. I want to get to the root of my problems and maybe figure out if everything that has happened in my life the last ten years is really the product of my anxiety or just surrounding myself with mostly toxic people (a topic of many late night laying-in-bed-because-my-anxiety-won't-let-me-sleep moments). 

I'm inspired, so incredibly inspired, to get my shit together. And I can't wait to get started on this journey.