YONI

YONI

I steamed. For over an hour… to clear the venomous energy penetrated into I.  Praying that the energies of the Solar Eclipse whisk away the poison in my Womb. 

You never loved me. Never. I wasn’t “special” to you. You didn’t like me like that.  Still, I continued to play into the fantasy that someday, you may realize my worth, my value. That, perhaps one day you may not only want me, you may also value me. Respect me. 

Honor my NO, at least.

Yet still somehow, I fell under the spell, once again. 

And now I sit over this pot, ridding my YONI, of rot.

Why is it that I continue to give mySelf to those unworthy of receiving mySelf?

What keeps me stuck in the cycle of “trying to prove my worth”?

Why do I continue to serve as a host for parasitic energy that feeds, without any intention of return?

Must. Get. My. Power. Back.

Am I such a sucker for Love, a sucker for external validation…external, external, external.

Must. Get. Back. to Internal. 

Peace. Heart. Grace. 

Forgiveness, for mySelf for knowing what is not good for me, yet choosing to sip the poison knowingly. 

Hope, that even this grand mistake was for my greater knowing, greater being, highest learning. 

The inconvenience. The fucking inconvenience.

Temporary “satisfaction” is not worth the repair.

Temporary “satisfaction” is not worth the repair.

Temporary “satisfaction” is not worth the repair. 

So badly, I want to say “you, you, you.” It’s “YOUR” fault. “You’re” a terrible person.  How dare “YOU”!

All while knowing God has always revealed to me what is true, yet, I swiped His visual into my peripheral. 

And rode through the shadow of darkness once again. Yet, here is God, ready to show me the light…once again. 

Heal Thy Womb. Please Forgive I.

Amen. 

Summer Doesn’t Feel Like Summer…

This time last summer, I was tiny and felt  beautiful, making videos, dancing, road tripping, smoking weed and creating. I was also dating a man who reminded me of Tarzan and whom I thought was the tastiest man alive…he didn’t really appreciate me the way I did him, but still I felt “alive” then…and summer felt like summer. 

It’s amazing what can change in one year. 

This summer feels like a mix between fall and June gloom. I’m certainly not tiny, in fact I weigh more than I ever have, though I do glow and some days I feel beautiful but that’s not even thanks to me. Videos have been hard to make because I’ve been internalizing so much that I’m too exhausted to actually share about what it is that I’ve been going through. I’m also single and I don’t believe I’ve gone dancing one time this summer. I love dancing. Who knows when the next time that’ll be…I hope soon. I’ve turned down road trips, even the ones to Portland because I just have too much going on in the inside…and the most surprising difference between this summer and last is not that I’m not smoking weed, but rather the reason I’m not smoking weed. 

I’m currently a little over 8 months pregnant. Alone. 

Summer doesn’t feel like summer, because summer is light and airy and I’ve been feeling emotionally and spiritually heavy with hardly any room to breathe, no breaths left to take for anything that doesn’t involve my pregnancy and my baby, which has proven to be the ultimate spiritual practice. 

My days consists of 3 mile walks, dates (sadly only the kind you eat), green smoothies, potent pregnancy tea, amazon, yoga, meditation, lots of praying, and tons of fiber. 

I miss summer romances and that feeling of “aliveness.” That sense of “freedom” of “light” and “airy.”

You see I’m very well aware of the blessing that God has given me, this life I’ve been carrying for 8 months, I mean I am 100 percent certain that in fact God has blessed me with the greatest gift that the Universe can bless one with. This I know for sure. However the desire for love and romance has in fact only intensified now that I’m 8 months pregnant, without a partner to cheer me along. 

You see I never asked for this, never imagined this, and it certainly wasn’t ever my dream job to be a single mother…however that seems to be the route God is taking me on. What’s more is, when I found out I was pregnant, I specifically told God, “I don’t want to be a single mother! I’ll accept this gift and have this baby, but not if you’re going to make me be a single mother!” 

And so God, having the sense of humor that he has, made it seem like that wouldn’t be the case by giving me a daughter whos father who has proven to be…well full of shit. Her father specifically told me “I’m here for you, don’t worry you won’t have to do this alone, you won’t be a single mother.” 

Yet here I am, alone.  Sleeping alone. Going to appointments alone. Walking 3 miles a day alone. Planning and preparing, alone. Facing all the emotional and spiritual upheavals that come with being a new Mother, alone. 

Daddy? Well he’s running and hiding like a little mouse running from the paws of a lion cub, not realizing all the cub wants to do is play and bring him joy. 

But see, God is funny because when I look at the course of my life, everything, everything, has led me and prepared me to be the most incredible and gifted single mother alive. However that still doesn’t mean that I asked for this. I mean who actually wants to bear and have a child alone? 

Yes, I have family and friends, which Thank You God, but still…when I see other pregnant mothers with partners, I think, “Why cant I have that?! I’m worthy god damn it!” 

*Sigh* 

The only thing I can do, is trust and surrender. I know what will come of this will only make me stronger and more powerful than I’ve ever been, it already has, but for now I still find myself wanting companionship, mostly to be held…because there’s nothing more vulnerable than a woman transitioning into a Mother. 

To be continued…

God.

Neither of my parents were religious. My mum didn’t believe in God and my dad never spoke of God. Yet I remember praying to God at night as a young child, saying “God if you’re really there, show me.” Something along the lines of, if you’re there, you’ll do this. I used to ask for signs that way, cause and effect strategy so to speak. As an adult, I remember one sign in particular that certainly sparked something in me.

It was after Eric told me he loved me. Eric was my first real boyfriend, apart from my high school love. After he told me, I was unsure if I loved him back, so I prayed, again, having no religious background but desperate to figure out what this feeling was. So I said, “God, if this is love that I am feeling, Eric will wear yellow today”…and then I changed my mind and said, “no wait, he will be wearing green.” And so when I arrived at work that day and saw that he was wearing a green and yellow shirt, I was in awe. God was speaking to me. Eric and I spent the next 7.5 years together.

However, it wasn’t then that suddenly my relationship with God changed.That moment happened and then sort of faded like all the other times I had asked for a sign.

Yet the point of this story is that, we inherently know in our gut that God is real, from birth we know this. And yet, we forget. We become lost in our mind and far from our hearts. And it is in our hearts where God lives. And so to find God, is to find our heart. When we look within our hearts, dive deep into our hearts, we dive deep into the infinite waters of God.

Even the word God is something that I have been resistant to. If we changed the word God to Love, we would see that it is one in the same. The word God has been completely misconstrued into something negative and tangled up in the complicated web of religion. So instead I found myself using the word Universe when referring to the magnitude of God, however the deeper I went inside my heart, the more powerful the word God became. God is Love. And to use the word God, is to say Yes I believe, Yes I have faith. Yes God is real. Love is real.

So no, its not that I have suddenly gone all “religious” on all of you. In fact God has nothing to do with religion.

God is love. God is Love. God is Love.

To accept God as real, is powerful. And to recognise this love is beyond measure.

Let US shine.

It is so important that we learn to heal ourselves.
As I sit here in tears, I share with you my heart.

Every so often I get this strong feeling that I need to cry, but I don’t want to…the sort of feeling you get when you know you need to throw up, but you don’t want to…even though you know you’ll feel a lot better afterwards. Whenever I feel this, I know it’s time to listen to the mantra “Aap Sahai Hoa” by Simrit. My beautiful and bright siSTAR Jess introduced me to this version and it has resonated with me ever since. This angelic mantra always takes me straight to the floodgates and releases whatever pain needs to be released…and I always come out of it SO MUCH STRONGER.

Today when I felt this feeling, like I wanted to cry, I tried to avoid it but then I made the conscious CHOICE to honor my feelings and to LOVE them, as well as follow my intuition of “it’s time.”
So, I listened to this beautiful mantra, and sure enough, I was bawling in no time. However, by remaining PRESENT and allowing myself to FULLY FEEL, I was able to notice that my tears were coming from a place of STRENGTH. Every time I sat up straighter, I cried harder. Every time I consciously took a breath, I cried harder. Every time I said, “THANK YOU,” I cried harder.

By remaining present I was also able to differentiate between the feeling of “feeling sorry for myself” and “strength.” When I tried to feel sorry for myself, I found it wasn’t real. What was real, was that I was actually being incredibly vulnerable and open in those moments. And vulnerability…builds strength.

Because I CHOSE to honor my feelings in a time of need, I was gifted. Because I CHOSE to trust my intuition, I was gifted. Because I CHOSE love, I was gifted.

Today, the direction I need to move in became clear to me. Clear as day. And boy have I been patient. I now know why I’m on this Earth. I now know what I really want in this life. I know why I’m here. And to finally know, is truly an amazing gift.

Friends, some of you have recently said to me…”I wish I had your life.”

I’m here to tell you, I go through all the same things you do. I hurt just like you. I want love just like you. I have family “stuff” just like you. I have self conscious thoughts just like you. I cry and shout just like you.

I am you. You are me.

I am only able to live the way I do because others have blessed me with their light and inspired me to shine mine.

I AM here to be a light.

Let’s shine brighter together❤✌

Letting Go is Sexy

Through healing my womb, the place where my divine feminine energy lives, I am able to become closer with the powerful woman inside me. She teaches me to love myself and embrace every part of my being. She whispers to me the secret to having true fulfilment in this life.

Recently, someone complimented me on some of my Instagram pics…similar to the one here. When they complimented me, I thought to myself, “but that isn’t me.” I couldn’t help but judge and think about how those pictures didn’t represent ME or the things that I hold close to my core today.

But then I realized something quite  obvious…the fiery woman in those pictures are ME…and a delicious part of me I might add 😉 Yes, I was wearing slightly too much makeup and taking bikini pics for the sole purpose that being sexy was important to me. However, this photo was taken during the first time I truly felt unstoppable. It was the first major time I chose to LET GO.

This photo was taken after I ended an 7 year relationship and quit my full time job to pursue something bigger. It was a point  in my life where I bore all…both figuratively and literally 😉 I tried new things, gave zero fucks, and my confidence was better than it’d ever been.

However…shortly after my high, I realized I still didn’t feel full.

As I continued on my journey of growth, I learned that the power of the woman inside me was way beyond physical. I learned that my true power resided in the depths of my soul.
Suddenly, I no longer cared what I looked like. I went back to my roots. I started embracing my body hair, rocking my curly locks, and relishing in my natural beauty. And through the ability to love very ounce of who I AM…a re-birth emerged.

Through this re-birth, I learned that it doesn’t matter how I portray myself in the physical world…that’s all just for fun. What’s really important is what lives INSIDE.
This photo is proof to ME that anyone can bloom when they let go of shit that doesn’t serve their truth. It will take practice and discipline, and there will be more shit to let go of in the future, but the more you let go, the more you become liberated in all of your glory.

Letting go is sexy.

The Adorable Little Man in the Cafe’

God could this music be any more depressing? I came to a coffee shop today to do some work in the hopes of feeling human again. Not working. I’m still miserable, only now I’m surrounded by people who for whatever reason feel the need to talk super loud. It’s also raining, so my view is a cloudy and cold view of other miserable people walking by. At least the food was good. Actually the food wasn’t even that great. It was a baguette made with exceptionally good bread, a little skagenrora (shrimp mayo stuff), and way too much lettuce used to try and cover up the fact that they are seriously skimping on the skagen in their skagenrora sandwich. I get it, shrimp is expensive but damn, can’t they see I need extra today? Instead of a pint of ice cream, skagen and quavers have become my go to.

Shit perhaps staying in my apartment in my robe today would have been a better idea. Thank God I didn’t succeed in talking myself into riding my bike down here. The last thing I need on this miserable day is to be biking home in the cold.

 I stayed in bed til 12 noon today. Simply because there’s not much to get up for these days. I’m sorry but today I am not feeling the whole “find the beauty” campaign. Today, I just want to take a day to be miserable. I can hear Matt Kahn’s voice inside my head making fun of the people who think, “I’m miserable so I am going to be miserable to everyone around me because I refuse to have any kind of fun because I’m miserable.” He says something along those lines. I’m aware that I could change my mind but today I choose not to. I’ll smile at the ladies working at the cafe but without the sun, I find it incredibly hard to find much else to smile about.

Why am I so miserable today? Because I am tired of people being bullshit fake versions of themselves. I’m tired of people. I have been patient and loving for far too long. That’s the entitled ego speaking. This I know. Just let me have this day.

I’m here in Sweden for the millionth time. People back home think I’m this travelling woman and I’ll continue to let them think that. That is unless I decide to publish this blog.

So why Sweden? Oh for a boy. Yea a boy. A boy describes him perfectly.

The “boy” and this life is draining me. The only good things are the fact that I live alone and the beautiful spring days I’ve experienced so far. Sweden really is quite beautiful in the spring. That goes for the land and the people. Although I find it mind boggling how people still can’t find the energy to crack a smile when they walk past someone. A smile goes a long way but more importantly, it says “Hey person walking by, I acknowledge your existence.”

There’s an adorable little man sitting next to me. Alone. The way his lips quiver when he eats is almost as adorable as the piece of melted cheese on his lip. My heart melts for him because I can see the pain in his eyes. Perhaps I’ll shoot him another smile…this time for real.

Pain That is Ubiquitous

Every day I feel more and more alone. I don’t want to live in this
crumbling world. Too many people walk around as false little ciphers. So
empty. No love. No love for anything, not even themselves. They do shit
they don’t want to do. They put everything into a nice little box and label it whatever the hell they think it is. But there is nothing inside the box.
Nothing. And it is really starting to hurt. Why do people feel the need to
walk around and live completely outside of themselves? They believe
everything they hear and are completely wrapped up in bullshit.
Negativity. I can’t do this anymore. Breathe I say. Just keep breathing.
Don’t let that little ego of yours snap. Just continue to love I say. Oh how
I want to, but oh how much these people have nothing to give back.
Nothing real anyway. We talk about the weather and sports and the
corruptive news and blah blah blah.

But what about the majestic  beauty of the trees, the stillness that surrounds us if we stop and listen, the picturesque blue sky and the clouds that dance above our heads, the warm and nurturing sun, the captivating draw of the moon, the awe we feel when look at a flower, or the charismatic rocks that have seen more than we can imagine. The fucking beauty of this world we live in, that too many of us have gone blind to.

The feelings we have. The fucking
feelings we have. The real shit. I’m talking about how our insides are in
turmoil because we are in constant fucking anxiety about all the bullshit
that surrounds our lives. Jobs. Money. Marriage. Family. Why can’t we
just be who the fuck we are? Why do we all have to be the same?

I fucking hate fear and I wish it would go the fuck away. And this trans-
for-fucking-mation I am going through is god damn challenging. My ego
is working hard to keep me confused. And the little fuck keeps telling me I’m doing it wrong. And see this is why I understand why people go
crazy. And get sick. Because see, if you keep listening to those
deceitful thoughts, they will fuck with you beyond your imagination.

“You didn’t meditate today. You didn’t do yoga. You didn’t connect with
nature. Go for a walk lazy. See, you’re doing it all wrong.” And
then I have my god damn ego showing up in a completely different way.
“See how great you are. You meditate. You do yoga. You breathe. You
appreciate nature. See how much better you are than everyone else. See
how much happier you are.” And see, all the while I, and I mean I, as in
me…not that little shit the ego, feels alone. Feels alone in this mind that
refuses to go back to sleep. And though I know I am not, I still feel so.
Because though there are others like me, and I know there are because I
have met them and felt them, I am still walking around in a sleeping
world. A world that is asleep. And so I feel alone.

People are walking around settling for the unfulfilling life they live. This tears me apart. And the most frustrating thing of all is they read this and say “She’s crazy, I’m perfectly happy.” Maybe they are. Maybe I am crazy.Yet, my heart tells me I’m not. I feel EVERYTHING. And it’s driving me
fucking mad.

The idea of love and happiness has been contorted into a box of bullshit
that we all think we have to live inside. Fuck that. Be who you want to
be. Divorce that person you don’t want to be with. Quit the job you hate.
Travel to that place you want to go. Stop worrying. Stop settling. Don’t
be afraid to pursue what you love. Don’t be afraid of change. Take
control of your mind and body. CHOOSE happiness. Love others. See
people. Really SEE them for who they are.

Pain for me is the self-destruction too many people in this world inflict
upon themselves.

Through self-destruction, we live in a world that is self-destructing.

This is our world which has provided for us and we are destructing it with our false need for power and greed; to please the ego. The ego is that deceiving little shit who is pretending to be you. Because of this egoistic madness, people are blind to their own eternal truth. By truth, I mean, the REAL you, the BEST you, the LOVING you, the passionate you, the fearless you. The you, who doesn’t give a fuck what people think. The you, who puts your happiness first so that you can be
the best for yourself and the people around you. The you, who can and
will take risks for your own happiness. And this you, is quite similar to
the child you once were. Free. You owe your inner child the fearlessness that was stripped away by the robotic systems, in which greedy societies have put into place.

It hurts me that so many people are afraid.

Pain for me is being awake to the fear that surrounds me. Seeing people
blinded from the fog of thoughts that consume their mind. Numbing their
minds with television, poisons and the like. Witnessing a lack of compassion in the hearts of humanity. Recognizing the destruction of our planet as people turn a truly, blind eye. Observing separation led by unacceptance and driven by “mine, mine mine.” Watching people conned by the “systems,” that are intended to keep us in the shadows. People mislead by power and greed.

Heartache for me is looking into the eyes of the ones I love most, and
not quite knowing when, or if they will wake up from the nightmare that
plays inside their head.

“Believe. Create the life you imagine.”

Why I Stopped Waxing and Shaving

I will never forget the first time I received a Brazilian wax. I won’t forget it because it hurt like a motha effin biatch. My feet were put in stirrups, the same ones that pregnant women put their feet in right before they give birth. My vajayjay and tush were completely exposed to a woman not in the medical field, which was just weird. Nah, the only job this woman had was to make me “sexy.” During the wax, she tried to talk to me about the weather and other bullshit in an effort to distract me from the pain…it didn’t work. When she was finished, I looked down to find a blood-red, bald vagina with tiny pieces of wax still present, a few little stray hairs still randomly sticking out, and tiny spots of blood. The wax lady informed me I could use a tweezer the get the stray hairs and that the swelling would subside in a few hours. I thought to myself, “This is what all the hype is about? What the fuck? This is sexy?” I told myself I would never get waxed again; I figured even shaving was better than this hell.

However, inspite of this rather traumatic experience, once I showered and the swelling went down, I kind of liked how I looked being waxed. Not only did I like it, I liked it a hell of a lot more than when I shaved. Shaving is counter-productive. Your peach only stays smooth for a day, after that, you have a prickly, stubbly, itchy, irritated vag and it’s so not cute.

I figured, I could endure the torture again if it meant I could have the vagina of a playboy bunny, but there had to be a less painful way. I did some research. And then I ordered numbing cream.

The next time I went to the wax studio, I was prepared. I applied numbing cream beforehand and took an 800 milligram Ibuprofen before the “procedure”.  The problem with numbing cream is, you can only do the outside of your vagina, so though the pain wasn’t as bad as the first time, it was still a bitch. However, I continued to get waxed every 4 weeks for about two years. I even added my armpits to my waxing game. I had the application of my numbing cream as well as the perfect timing to take ibuprofen, down to a science.  And still, each time it came time for my wax appointment, I became anxious and couldn’t wait for it to be over. But, I didn’t care because the second I started growing hair back, the faster I wanted it gone. By this point, I had become quite accustomed to being hairless and there was no way I was going to be seen with hair anywhere on my body, other than my head.

Over time, waxing did get easier, especially thanks to my handy dandy numbing cream. But then, something happened… I started getting a weird sensation from the numbing cream; my girly parts started randomly feeling numb on days I wasn’t using the cream. This scared the shit out of me. So, I stopped using the cream but continued to get waxed without it.

I was moving and due to go to Sweden very soon. Through moving, working crazy hours and getting family goodbyes in, I simply had no time to get waxed before I left. I was hairy and freaking out, but time simply wouldn’t allow me to get “sexified.” My boyfriend had told me many times that he didn’t care whether I got waxed or not, that I didn’t have to endure the pain for him. By this time, we had been together for almost a year, he loved me, so I figured, “Ok well he’s just going to have to deal with it this time. I’ll find someone to wax me when I get to Sweden.”

(Though, I didn’t get a Brazilian before I started my journey across the world, I did manage to talk my brother into waxing my armpits with his girlfriend’s at-home wax kit before my departure. A hairy vagina was one thing, but hairy armpits were another. He did a pretty good job. With that, I was off to Sweden.)

The tiny village I stayed at in Sweden lacked a waxing studio…along with a lot of other amenities. So my waxing appointment would have to be put on hold for a bit.

Then something unexpected happened. After being with my hairy kitty for a few weeks, I started to like it. Now, I must also mention, that I am currently on my journey to learning to love myself fully. And by this time, I had already stopped wearing makeup and was embracing my natural curly locks(the locks on my head, that is). But even so, it came as a surprise that not only had I started to embrace my vagina in its natural state, I actually started loving it…and even more than when it was waxed. I looked at it and I felt sexy. Sexy as fuck in fact. Not long after I felt this, my boyfriend admitted that he too liked it more natural. He called it “womanly.”

And then, something crazier happened. The hair under my armpits started growing back…and I didn’t quite give a fuck. I thought, “I may never wax or shave my armpits again.” Needless to say, that thought was one I never thought I would have.

So, what the hell changed?

During this journey, I asked a lot of questions.

If I feel sexy, why should I care what anyone else thinks?

Why shouldn’t I feel sexy in my natural body?

Why the bloody hell should I have to wax or shave?

Men grow hair on their balls and under their arms, why aren’t they expected to wax or shave?

Why are women expected to be hairless?

Do women in Europe wax or shave? Is this an American thing? Just what the hell is going on?

Is it really sexier to have your vagina look the way it looked when you were a child?(And who decided that?)

A lot of porn features hairless women, is that why it’s considered sexy?And hello, they so photoshop those chicks.

What has the porn industry done for the world anyway?

Women grow hair for a reason, why should I mess with what Mother Nature intended?

Who am I putting my body through torture for? For men? For my own vanity? For what exactly?

Does this make me a feminist? What is a feminist anyway? And why is feminism looked down on? Isn’t feminism just a movement put in place to give women equal rights?
Well shit, women have the right to be women, don’t they? And women grow hair in all the same places men do. If men can be men, women can be women.

The way I see it, leaving my body in the way it was intended makes me nothing but a woman. So yea, fuck it, having hair is womanly.

I got used to seeing my body in it’s natural element and I began to love it. This perception came through self love and acceptance. And I am so grateful that it did. Because now  I never have to sit through someone ripping the hair from my perfectly beautiful body again.

P.S. I do trim. I respect that nobody likes hair in their food 😉

To the Ones Who Hate to See Me Smile

Look mofo, I don’t think I’m better than you nor do I want to be better than you. There is no single person on this planet who is better than anyone. For fuck sake, I fucking love you. In all realness, I love you. And you don’t have to love me back for me to love you. It doesn’t matter to me whether you hate me or not, I can’t help but love you. I see you. I see you in there. And I know you’re a beautiful person no matter what “bad” things you have done. I am not trying to take anything from you. All I want is you to open your eyes so that you can see that. So that you can recognize when a person loves you.  I want happiness for you. I want you to smile. I want you to laugh. I want you to do the things you love. I want you be who you are.

Why can’t you smile when I smile?

I simply want peace in this world. I want people to stop killing each other. I want people to love one another. I want world acceptance. And I know love is the answer. Self love first and the rest falls into place.

Why I Hate Selfie Sticks

I totally get it. You’re feeling yourself. You looking good. Damn good. And you want the world to know god damn it. This kind of good is post worthy. Hell I am completely guilty of it too. But here’s my problem…

It doesn’t just end at the selfie. Most of us don’t take a quick snap and say “Hey world, I’m feeling good about myself, here I am.”

Nah, nah, nah. Chances are, we have taken over 10 photos(and that’s being nice). Scrolled through all them. Hated every single one. Delete. Delete. Delete. And then finally we come across one that might due once we’ve put a filter on that bitch. Once we are satisfied and have possibly asked friends/family which filter is best(and lets be real, they don’t give a shit), we post. We might post something inspirational if we know we are pushing our limits on the amount of selfies we’ve posted this week. (That Albert Einstein quote has nothing to do with your duck lips). We post and wait. We wait for likes. And when they start coming in, damn do we feel good. My problem?

People are validating themselves through the amount of likes they receive on social media. Where’s the self love yo? You just talked so much shit about how “ew” you looked in all those photos.  And then after making it “postable,” you waited to see what others had to say. You just based your self worth outside of yourself.

Look ya’ll, I am no angel when it comes to selfies. I have taken my fair share and I have waited my damn self for others to tell me how pretty I am. But let’s be real. That shit doesn’t matter. Because at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter how many god damn likes I get or how many people comment. The only person’s opinion that matters is mine. I have to love myself to believe I’m beautiful. To love myself, I have to accept and validate myself through myself. People telling me I look good is a band aid. It makes me feel good for the moment, but at the end of the day, I have to face myself. The cure to vanity is inside of me.

This past summer, I was sitting at the beach watching people take photos with selfie sticks. I watched one couple literally spend about 20 minutes taking selfie after selfie on this stick in front of the ocean. They would take selfies, delete, and then take some more. My motha fuckin problem is, they weren’t enjoying the actual beach. Now as a beach lover, this shit was bothering me! The waves, the water, the breeze, the sun, the sand, the laughter surrounding us, the warmth of the air. I thought, “did they come to the beach to take selfies?” Hmm. Maybe it wasn’t their intention, but it sure as hell was what they did. Did you know that more people died this year from taking  selfies than from sharks?

Are we taking photos to capture memories or capture likes?

And I don’t want to hear, “selfie sticks are a convenient way to get a photo when you don’t know anyone who can take it.” Couldn’t you just, I don’t know, talk to someone and ask them to take your photo?? Ya know, connect with someone. Jesus. We are all literally going to be walking around like robots one day if we keep depending on devices and machines to do things for us. This world is fucking small, you’d be amazed at the connections you can make by simply talking to a stranger. Instead, people walk around afraid to talk to each other. And that isn’t cool.

Don’t get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with taking a selfie every once in awhile and even posting it for others to see. There is nothing wrong with feeling yourself. But folks, moderation is key. How many selfies are in your phone gallery right now?

I hate selfie sticks because they encourage self absorption, which we have enough of on this planet.

Not to mention, they look ridiculous.