One Week Later

It’s been a sad week, guys.

It’s been a great week, guys.

Yes, I cried my fair share of tears this week. They’re justified tears though. Although I’m a firm believer that tears never need to be justified. If you need to cry, then you cry, honey.

Anyways, my tears were for my grandma. When you lose one of the main people in your circle, it would be bizarre not to mourn them.

But, it has been a great week nonetheless.

First off, I made a friend. A real one! One that has a physical form, and can converse back with me. I know, guys! I’m shocked too. Seriously, I got invited to a party this weekend. It’s a legit friendship. I’ve known this friend for a while, but we just decided to actually start hanging out.

I also start working full time next week, I thought I was going to start in June! So that was a pleasant surprise. I’m thankful.

How good can life get right now, guys?

Of course I miss my grandma. I’m still at the stage where I’m forgetting she’s gone. I even told myself I was going to go visit her tomorrow. I forgot I couldn’t.

I’m always going to miss my grandma, she was wonderful, I wish you could’ve met her too.

I know she’s not going to see this, but I just had to let her know that I’m okay.

Life isn’t going to be the same without her.

But life is great because I had her.

I love you, grandma.

Everybody misses you, but everybody’s fine.



I’m just going to say it; I got scared to blog. I hadn’t blogged in a while and because of that I got nervous to blog again. Does this happen to you guys? I hope I’m not the only one who does this. It’s almost like a bad relationship… on again, off again, on again, off again…

But if you’ve ever read any of my previous posts, you would know that apparently I’m good at on again and off again relationships.

That was me making fun of myself… and no this is not me saying I got back together with my awful ex.

I told you guys I was done, and I meant it.


I’ve done a lot of growing in this past year. I think thats what you’re supposed to do when you’re 21.

Life is supposed to be a constant whirl wind… and thats what it’s been.


Brace yourself for all this:

So since January this is all that has happened: I quit my job, I moved back into my parents house, I got a new job (the same day I moved), met a boy, got my heart broken by that boy, moved on, had too much fun with friends, got refocused on my goals, had more too much fun with my friends, and my dearly loved, and admired great grandmother passed away.


My next blog post will be about my life, however; this post is a letter to her.

Hi Grandma,

I’m going to state the obvious… I miss you.

I’d pay lots of money to hear you laugh one more time. Although you’d tell me not to spend my money on something like that.

Grandma, you were a good one to me. You always accepted me for who I was, and you always cheered me on for who I am becoming. You and I became close at a fairly sad and confusing time in my life. (The exact same time I started this blog)

Of course I loved you long before two years ago. I have countless memories of you when I was little. However from middle school through high school I wasn’t around as much, and that’s my fault. If I could go back in time and tell myself one thing it would be to spend more time with you.

I love the memories I have of you growing up, they’re special to me. It’s just that the past two and a half years really rocked with you consistently in my life. I discovered a lot about myself with your help… you probably never even realized it. I want to thank you for teaching me how to be strong-willed, and not to let people take advantage of my niceness.

A few days ago a guy was being rather rude to me. Normally I’d be the pathetic girl who would let him be mean, and then try to make it better again. Not this time. The very first thing that went through my head was, “my grandma would hate that I was letting someone be mean to me… she’d be so upset.” So I didn’t stand for it for one more second, and out the door the potential of that relationship went.

Thank you, Grandma. Thank you for helping me realize I deserve people being kind to me, and that I am a strong woman.

Grandma, I’m going to miss you for a long while. I was hoping I had found “the one” before you passed. But you help me find myself before you passed, and thats more important.

I’m so thankful you were in my life. I’m so thankful that you’re going to continue to be in my life. My strong-willed, humorous, thoughtful, personality are characteristics of you. That is how you are going to live on to me. You gave me pieces of you, and I am thankful.

I love you, Grandma. I miss you. I’ll talk to you soon.






What happened in Orlando today is absolutely awful.

Those people are gone, forever and there’s nothing we can do about it. All those people mattered to someone.

50 people had moms that wanted phone calls the next day. Had siblings that loved them, grandparents that spoiled them, best friends that wanted to hang out tomorrow. They all had someone. Those people mattered to other people.

As I’ve gotten older, the more emotional I get when I find out things like this happen. When you’re little, you don’t understand, and that’s okay. When you’re five, your biggest concern should be what crayon color to use for your coloring book.

When you get older your concerns get bigger, and that sucks. You worry for you family, and hope they’re safe at all times. You get nervous when you’re walking to your car at night. You make sure you lock the door every night. You’ve heard the stories on the news, so you worry more. It’s only natural.

And now this tragedy occurred.

50 people had plans. One of them could’ve had plans to be a lawyer, and maybe another one was just trying to make it through the day, we don’t know. Maybe one was in med school, one could’ve just passed their cosmetology exam, another one could’ve just gotten  their first tattoo. It doesn’t matter what they were doing, what they aspired to be, what they believed, or where they were from. They were someone. They were someone that mattered.

America is sad today.

I hope those families know that America is here for them. From Michigan to Maine, Connecticut to California, we are here for them.

I hope you’re well, I hope you know you’re loved. I hope you stay safe. Call your mom, she loves you. Call your dad, he’s tough but he thinks the world of you. Hug your friends. Because there are 50 people in this world that left too soon and didn’t get to say “I love you” one last time.

I’ve had nothing to post lately, maybe tomorrow I’ll post about what I’ve been up to considering a lot has changed since everything is different. I love you.

Stay amazing,


Thank You

Happy 1 year anniversary!

I know I just blogged but I just got the notification that I started this blog exactly a year ago.


As the photo says above, “A lot can happen in a year.”

So I’d like to thank you. Thanks for being there for me guys, whether you started last year on February 7, 2015 or you started today on February 7, 2016. Thanks for being part of my little family.

Last year involved a lot of changes in my life, and blogging helped me figure out how to deal with some of those changes.

Lets recap:

Last year at this time I…

Was living with my nana and grandpa.

Was working two different jobs.

Was figuring out how to deal with my depression.

Figuring out where I was going to live.

Was lonely.

Had no clue that my life would be like it is now.

*present day*

I am…

Loving school.

Having the best time ever with some of the most amazing people I’ve ever met.

Figuring out where I am going to live next.

Figuring out how to deal with my depression.

Not lonely.

Happy, and in complete and utter disbelief that my life is so different than it was exactly a  year a go.

Although there are still some things that I am trying to figure out, I am so thankful that I am not where I was last year.

2d46c139da1f43a9ce178b243a8059d4.jpg 72e7ed1530c49d753685fd868f50360e.jpg


It’s amazing how God will let you hit rock bottom, just so you can see that He is the rock at the bottom.

But once again, thank you. Thanks for being there for me, even if you didn’t know you were.

And a special thank you to my nana and grandpa, who are some of the most amazing people in the entire world. I’m sorry they couldn’t be your grandparents too, because they’re exceptional. Thanks for teaching me so much about loving, growing up, decision making, faith, and forgiveness. Thanks for letting me complain about my parents to you when I need to. Thank you for telling me when I’m wrong, and helping me figure out how to make it right. You guys are the best teachers I’ve ever had. Thanks for always being some of my biggest fans, and loving me every step of the way. I love you more.




I’ll figure it out


I am 20 and a half and I do not wish to have all the answers right now, if ever.

Just because I’m trying to figure out some things in my life, doesn’t mean I’m looking for comments or opinions on how I should or shouldn’t go about things.

I will figure it out on my own.

I am 20.

I do not have an older sibling who got to show me the way, one to be the guinea pig, and learn from their mistakes. In fact, I am the sibling that my sibling got to learn from. I get to be the guinea pig.

Which is fine, I do not mind playing the roll of the “rebellious, black sheep, learn the hard way,” child. I think when you’re the oldest you just come to terms with the fact that you have to teach yourself how to do certain things, and your baby siblings look like prized positions while you… don’t.


My little brother is 17 and has multiple full ride scholarship offers. He is smart, athletic, 6’2″, “cool” (he’s cool to the other awkward 17 year olds in high school, and to himself I’m sure), and can do no wrong in my family’s eye.

It’s funny how we come from the exact same blood, but are two completely different people.

I was average in high school, by no means were full rides knocking on my door. I golfed in high school, but only to get out of gym class. I am 5’2″, and in high school I had friends, but I wasn’t “super hip.” And of course, I’m always being yelled at for something by someone in my family.


Don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t be more proud of my little sibling. He is amazingly smart, and I can’t wait to see where he goes in life. I am his biggest fan and will always have that kids back.


I’m not saying everything changed for me when I got out of high school and into the real world, but…. everything changed for me when I got out of high school and into the real world.

You start to develop your own opinions, and sometimes those opinions differ from your parents. And that is a-okay. You’re allowed to become your own person; however, sometimes becoming your own person requires a lot of annoying lectures from people who tell you they know best.

I’ve yet to figure out how to handle annoying, unwanted lectures nicely, and without rolling my eyes.


Families are amazing and I love mine to no end. I’m just frustrated with everyones input 24/7.

This week I finally made the decision to go to therapy. Now don’t applaud me yet, I’m only going so my family will stop telling me “you should go to therapy,” every other second.

I have nothing against therapy, in fact, I’m actually open to the idea of liking it, and I’m starting to look forward to my first appointment. The idea of having a complete stranger listen to my problems, and then insurance pays for it, sounds nice.

I just wish people would stop telling me how to do every single move I make. Seriously, three people texted me today about what I should talk about in therapy, or something along those lines.

But I’m learning, I’m learning when to just give in, save an argument, and go with what my family wants, and when to stick to my guns and trust myself.

I don’t know what the point of this post was, or if there even was a post.

I think I just wanted to vent, maybe that’s a sign that therapy will be the bomb.

…. that’s it. Have a good night.




I couldn’t think of a title.

So I looked around at what I saw, saw my favorite thing in the whole world, and named it after him.


My dog.

He’s beautiful, he brings me joy, he makes me smile, and currently he’s hogging my bed.

I don’t really mind though, he’s the love of my life and he can do what he wants.

That’s him on my parents boat today.

Here are some more photos from the boat and the lake: 

Thats my dad, we clearly look nothing alike… :p

The sun was also in our eyes but I still love this photo

This is Leo and I playing in the water! He’s so cute.  

He loves me.

I just wanted to share these photos with you guys.

Have a good day!

Have a lovely Labor Day Tomorrow


She’s 5’1″, but she likes to say she’s 5’3″ even though it’s obvious she isn’t.

She’s often annoyingly perky. So gosh darn perky. It’s like she never put her cheerleading days behind her.

She’s blonde. Well, she’s gray, but she pays money to become blonde. (although I told her once I’m done with school I’ll do her hair for free.) Its the least I could do considering she brought me into the world free of charge.

She cries so much. It’s on a whole other level. Us women cry, and we cry often. BUT THIS WOMAN CRIES ABOUT ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING. Bachelor season finale – cries. Michael Jackson died a million years ago -cries.

She doesn’t like coffee, she likes the smell, but refuses to drink it.

She used to garden. She had a big garden, and she was good at it.

She cuddles. She always wants to cuddle. It’s a good thing she had a second child because her and Braxton were made to cuddle, my dad and I not so much.

She spoils the dogs, but she’s secretive about it.

She’s a cradle robber. My dad was a baby when she married him, she’s a whole 3 years older than him.

She thinks wine is a fruit because it came from grapes. She prefers white wine. Red is too sweet.

She loves celebrity gossip/news.

She’s a nurse.

She gets very excited about sports even though all she watches is the Super Bowl, Olympics, and my brothers XC meets. She cheers louder than anyone.

Did I mention she cries a lot?

She worries. She called me upset a few days ago because I hadn’t informed her if I had been locking my doors at night, thus she spent all night worrying.

Her favorite color is yellow. Which matches her perky personality.

She likes to buy lawn ordainments.

She’s not very strong, in fact she’s hilariously weak, she can’t lift much.

She also can’t throw. Often times she throws something and it lands behind her.

She shops, it’s a passion of hers.

She loves church.

She is a million different things, she is my mother. And I can’t wait to be just like her when I grow up.

I need a moment.

Flashback to October 17, 2014.

Technically October 18, 2014.

About 12:30am.

Picture this,


crying hysterically in the dorm bathroom on the phone with my friend saying “I can’t do this anymore.”

Picture me so upset that I got sick, and allowed myself to be sick for the following three days.

I never left my dorm. I hated that place, it was a never-ending anxiety attack. I woke up sweating, I was always calling my mother.

I had no one, I couldn’t explain what was happening to me, I just sat there.

It was like I was a living, breathing body, but what made me, “me” was not there anymore.

Isn’t depression and anxiety, fun?

Gosh all those tumblr posts that romanticize depression/anxiety sure have it wrong.

Fun fact, it isn’t beautiful, it isn’t poetic, it’s scary as hell.

Living with depression is complicated and confusing. One second you’re fine, then the next the “black cloud” appears and you almost forget that there are good days.

There are good days though.

Fast forward to January 6, 2015.

I’m still in the dark place, I’m still sad.

But I have these two amazing grandparents who love me. They loved me so much, they took me to the doctor’s and made sure I was prescribed medication for depression.

A week later I got a job, then another one.

A couple of weeks later I started to notice that there were more good days than bad days.

I started to realize that life isn’t meant to be lived in a “dark cloud” it’s meant to be lived with more good days than bad.

Yeah, there are good days, and bad days, but more often than not, they are good days.

Continuing onto May 16, 2015. I move into my first apartment.

It’s cute, and tiny, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I go to sleep that night calm. I am not worried about the future, I am confident about the future.

I don’t have the same feeling as I did my first night at college. I am calm, happy, optimistic, and sure.

Present day: June 14, 2015


I have cosmetology school orientation tomorrow and I can’t freaking wait. All I want to do is meet new people, and make new best friends, and goof off with them, and be the person that my Creator intended for me to be.

The whole point of this post is to basically say that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. It may start off as a pitch, black, scary tunnel, but there is a light.

So whether you’re in the midst of the darkness, seeing the light, or have been in the light for a while now, just know that God didn’t make us to have more bad days than good. He made us to do His work, and use our talents to honor and glorify Him.

He didn’t make us to be scared, depressed people. He loves us too much for us to be anything less than awesome, and glorifying.

I hope you enjoyed this post.

I wanted to give a special thank you to my grandparents, if it wasn’t for them I wouldn’t be where I am today. I’m not sure I’d be here at all in all honesty. No combination of 26 letters could describe how much I love you, and how grateful I am to have you in my life. Thank you for never once giving up on me, and always encouraging me to follow my dreams.

Have a good night!!

I’ll tell you all about school asap!!


The Fam

I come from a small family. I have a mom and dad (most of us do, that’s’ how we got here), and a little brother.

This is us. A long time ago.

Mark + Vicki + Braxton + Selina = family.


My parents are parents. They work and do whatever it is people with full-time jobs and two kids do.

So basically they work, sleep, and pay bills.

Sometimes they get really crazy and stay up past 9:30. That’s on a rare occasion though.


This is Mom. I forget sometimes her real name is Vicki, because in my mind her legal name is Mom.

Anyways, mom likes to sleep often, but she gets up at the crack of dawn. Mom also has a passion for power walking. She’ll walk around the neighborhood in any weather. She’s cute, I love her.

She works too much. She also cries at anything. I’m pretty sure she’s cried watching the season finale of The Bachelor. 

She’s a lovely women though, God blessed me with her.When I go to heaven I need to remember to thank Him for her.

She’s put up with a lot.

That’s all I have to say about Mom.


This is Dad. He works too much as well. I miss him. I look the most like him, and I act the most like him. He’s a fairly chill guy. He likes to lecture you until you fall asleep (don’t tell him I said that).

Dad also likes to fish…likes, is an understatement. My mother is not my dads first love, fishing is. He doesn’t care if he caught 100 fishes or zero. All his fishing buddies (we call them his “girlfriends”) share this bizarre passion for fishing too.

How I feel about fishing, is how he feels about makeup. Meaning, I’m sure it’s great, but not for me.


This is Sibling. I have many names I call him but the top three are Sibling, Baby Brother, and Braxy. Clearly my “little” brother is not so little. He’s 16 and 6 ft tall.

This kid is my BFF.

You know how people say twins have telepathy? Well we do too. We speak fluent sibling.

My sibling is the best. I love him. I’m also very protective of him. I can make fun of him, and laugh at him, but until Hell freezes over no one else can.

My favorite thing ever is that I got to grow up with my best friend. I used to dress him in my clothes (I loved putting him in skorts) He didn’t know the difference. I was his sister and I told him to do it so he listened.

We got to go to France for two weeks over the summer and that was the most amazing experience.

One of the oddest things in life is watching your sibling grow up. Braxton may be 6ft, run cross country, drive a car, and have a girlfriend.

In my mind, however; Braxton will always be 4 years old, afraid of anything, play with Hot Wheels, and think girls have cooties.

No matter what may happen, this is my family. My “ride or die” as the kids say it these days.

No one can mess with them. If they try, they’ll have to go through all 5’2 of me first.