united colors of bullies

It’s been awhile since I last put up an entry and before I start sobbing and saying sorry for leaving you guys hanging, let me just say that I had a tough month writing 15 chapters of a book I’m hoping to publish. So please please put down the pitch forks, I’m not one to make excuses but my brain was fried (figuratively of course).

Today I thought it would be fun to write about a topic that inspired one of my book concepts and that is bullies– in all their colors and varieties. We already know about the obvious ones, which mind you are a scary lot but there are more subtle versions. They hide under the covers labeling themselves something more beautiful and attractive. The magpie in us grovel for the promise that it oh so boldly declares then we realize later on that the shine it has is all that it is, shine.

The inspiration came from a nostalgic evening of coffee with 2 of my best friends- after they convinced me to keep writing on this blog because THEY ACTUALLY READ IT AND LIKE IT. Imagine my surprise when they started talking about entries I wrote, I mean these are my overly critical, highly intellectual and difficult to please best friends we’re talking about. My self loathing subconscious found that difficult to believe and quite frankly, I was speechless for a few moments.

On the same night, we realized a lot about the path we took together in college. We gave up so much to be that image of an over achieving student whose main goal is to get the best grades, manage as many  extra curriculars and maintain as few creative, non logical pursuits as we can. Labels and expectations- the box they made for us- those were our bullies. 

photo from caity-bullying.blogspot.com

I’ve finally learned that bullies don’t just come in different kinds of people, they come in every shape, size or form. I may not have been shoved around or locked in a janitor’s closet by some teen fiction stereotype queen bee but I’ve been confined in a society where there’s a predetermined standard of beauty- one which some may claim I don’t fit. That norm, that belief, that is my own brand of bully. It follows me around, taunting me to cinch around my curves and smoothen my edges to fit this overused mold already made for me.

When I  found enough courage and fought back, told society to shove its size zero, fair-skinned, blonde perfection up their bums, another bully manifested from the shadows- one far stronger and more paralyzing than its predecessor. The firm grip of its manacle, over sized hands smother me with ridicule of how success has and will continue to elude me because the career I chose to love and devote my life to will not earn me millions, buy me a mansion or a jet-setting lifestyle

Your bullies may be far more frightening or life threatening than mine. I can’t be the judge of that and I won’t try to. If there’s one thing I took away from dealing with bully after bully, people and circumstances alike, they’re never as easy to deal with as they they seem on the outside. It’s a bully for a reason. They know your weakness and capitalize on it as much as they can so you’re hurt in the worst possible way. They planned the perfect, most gruesome way to twist and turn the knife they stuck to your heart so you’re left clutching at it, trying to rip it off and stop the bleeding.


But if you don’t know already, let me be the first to tell you, you’re far stronger than any of your bullies. You have the ability heal and those battle scars will remind you every day of how you fought and how you deserve to be happy- HOW YOU’RE WORTH A LIFE YOU CHOSE TO LIVE and not one chosen by some thug or an unfortunate circumstance for you. 

You get one shot at life my friend, don’t let some bully take that away from you. 

ready or not


Perfect image of me except my hair looks so much worse than that. *not a joke*

When inspiration sets in and you are obviously far from a piece of pen and paper or your laptop is drained, it’s so frustrating. You can feel all the creative, or not so creative, juices flowing right out of you. All you could do is watch as it forms a small puddle on the floor underneath you feet. For those who have fallen victim to this kind of circumstance, my heart goes out to you for my disappointment and frustration late last night , or early this morning-the time escapes me, kept me up til I finally found my charger and a working pen.

Thank you universe for at least giving me that. *Insert applause here*

Needless to say, I typed away til late last night to finish some articles and a few chapters to a story I’m hoping to publish soon. After which I decided to tuck away my stuff neatly and fall into a dreamless slumber.

After approximately 5 hours of sleep

When I woke up this morning, all the creativity has  gone and I’ve been walking back and forth trying to snatch some inspiration from the boring walls of this room. Nothing! Not even some smart comment for a picture that needs a caption. This is even more frustrating that not being able to find a pen or charge my laptop. At least then, I knew I had an idea the only issue was how I could get it out. Now, I’m sitting here, staring at my screen and ranting.

Is this how it always is? When you’re not ready, it comes and hits you so intensely you just have to do something about it and when you are ready, it refuses to give you the pleasure of having it.

*Am I still talking about writing or am having one of those days again? One where I only thought one thing frustrates only to find out it’s something else that bothers me.