Posted in Being Vulnerable

Just a small town girl

I close my eyes and I see you

Swaying and grooving

With a wine glass in your hand you whisper,

“Brookie, close your eyes.


And as they sing, Don’t stop believing, I watch joy re-enter your body.

Your eyes are closed and all I see is your soul lifting and freeing from your daily depression.

So now whenever I’m surrounded by music, all i see is you.

And that freedom on your face.

And my tears start flowing as I wish

You could be free from your mind like that every night.

But instead you drink and resent.

And over and over I hear less and less joy in your voice

Yet I still hope that one day I can take you back to that vineyard

And watch you close your eyes once more and let a small town girl take your soul away.

Posted in Being Vulnerable

Recovering perfectionist

I had to make life hard for you

Because I didn’t want you to grow up in the trap that life is deserved not earned.

So I pushed you.

Bullied you.

And tore you down just enough that you would constantly feel insecure

Then I would compete with you

Congratulate you

And award you.

And what did you grow to become?

A secret narcissist.

Better known as an insecure perfectionist.

You’d have tantrums over losing your spelling book for fear of failing your test.

You’d scream if your hair wasn’t straight.

You’d cry if your sister beat you at games.

But you got straight A’s, didn’t you?

And I’m so proud of you.

Posted in Being Vulnerable


The emotion that leaves you doing nothing.

As Brene Brown says in Atlas of the Heart, when she was overwhelmed, she was blown.

And right then, my world made sense.

Overwhelm for me feels like a slow fog rolling in.

I feel it creeping up in the morning as if it’s been waiting on the shores.

And yesterday was one of those days.

Yet I kept working anyway.

I told myself, I can’t take a mental health day every time I feel overwhelmed.

That’s not fair.

So I worked.

And then I cried.

At work.

On a teams call.

Yeah…I turned the camera off.

But damn I hate when overwhelm won’t let me ignore it.

It honestly forces itself outside of my body and onto my face with tears.

And there was nothing I could do to stop it so I let it happen.

I cried.

And I said I was having an emotional day.

And luckily She understood.

But fuck I was embarrassed.

But why?

Why have I been trained to be embarrassed for my emotions?

They are normal.

And crying is actually beneficial in relieving stress.

So what my body forced me to do was good.

But my mind hated it.

And that is something I am realising I desperately need to change.

Posted in Being Vulnerable

Viola Davis

Viola Davis said something on Brene Brown’s podcast recently that I can’t seem to forget.

She said, “I want translucent skin.”

And what she meant was, I don’t want to be told to have thick skin and brush off the comments. She wants to be told that her sensitivity and heart for humanity are what create a change in this world.

Because she knows that how one obtains thick skin is by becoming numb.

And numbness does not break barriers or create change, it actually prevents it.

So when she said she wants translucent skin she was saying, I want to be receptive to people’s pain.

I want to hear with a heart wide open.

I want to cry because someone is hurting and I want to laugh when someone is happy.

And damn, did I admire that!

Because she’s right.

We won’t make a difference if we keep allowing ourselves to feel nothing.

Posted in Being Vulnerable

Haunted but affirmed

I’m sorry you think I had a choice

But when the “choice” is between

Survive or die

I always choose survive.

And maybe it’s the wisdom in me or the

Hard lessons pounded into my memory

But I know the difference between right

And wrong

And choosing myself first was right.

Because I wasn’t ready for what was about to come.

And even if my own decision haunts me,

I still believe it was the right one.

Because as Glennon Doyle always says,

“Every time you’re given a choice between disappointing someone else and disappointing yourself, your duty is to disappoint that someone else.”

Posted in Being Vulnerable

I’m a goal whore

Sometimes I think I make so many goals because just to feel proud of myself.

How sad is that?

But then when they don’t get accomplished, I feel like a fraud.

Because maybe I’m not the achiever I think I am.

So then I make new goals

And get really hyped about those

And I run with that hype for 6 months.

But then it fades and I decide I’m a changed woman and want a new goal.

So I make more goals.

And more goals

And still more


Because it’s not the goals I’m addicted to, it’s the newness. The revigoration.

The hype.

So I may not be a goal whore after all, but actually a hype whore?

Posted in Being Vulnerable


I use to believe I wasn’t creative

But now I know my mind is my color

My paint brush and paint

It helps me draw a world full of pain and love.

Hopes and hells.

It is my art.

And I’m grateful

For its existence.