contentment, embracing yourself, life, love, moments, thoughts, words

A Place of My Own


There is this place I like to go to, it is my safe place; this place belongs only to me, it is where my heart beats; no stress, no pain, no words, no refrain; I can laugh, I can cry, I can think, I can sleep; this place it is mine and where my emotions keep. There is place I like to go, it is where I heal; this place belongs only to me, it is where I live; its warm, its loving, its honest, its giving; I inhale, I exhale, I love, I feel; this place it really is mine and where I shall forever breathe.




embracing yourself, lessons, life, love, moments, woman

Happiness here I come!!!!!!!!!!!

embracing yourself, life, love, moments, romance, stories, thoughts, twenty-somethings, woman

Simple Beginnings

“Today is January 1st, 2015. What do you want to do with your life this year?” she asks me smirking because I am notorious for making resolutions I cannot keep. I laugh inwardly because I know its true, I’ve always been one too ‘determined to lose a few pounds,’ ‘learn a musical instrument,’ ‘gossip less,’ ‘be more charitable,’ ‘do yoga consistently,’ etc. etc. It lasts exactly 1 month before I knowingly brush my “resolutions” aside because of my new found life motto of ‘being true to how and who you truly are.’ Everything is easily manipulated to suit my owns moods, needs, desires, wants, in this girl’s life. But not this time.

Today is January 1st, 2015 and I want things to be exactly the way they were when I was woken up this morning by an alarm set at 11:50pm on December 31st so that we are awake for midnight together. To find myself so determined to want to be doing something so that my superstitious self can revel in the mere fact that that apparently will set the tone for the rest of the year. I’ve had youthful drunken New Years after party hopping and dancing till my feet hurt, I’ve had comforting New Years surrounded by family delighting in each other’s quips, I’ve had memorable New Years spent making last memories with friends who I will lose before the year ends, I’ve had depressing New Years where I will find myself asleep before the ball drops after having had one too many glasses of wine, I’ve had adventurous New Years where I will find myself walking down the main-street of a great metropolis dressed in only a strapless dress and heels in –1° weather. So much laughter, tears, love, loss and yet, this New Years has been the most meaningful. I don’t know if it is an age thing or if its just my good luck….the simple joys of life I spent indulging in this New Years (where I have not made a single resolution by the way) has come to mean the most. I hope this does set the tone for the year. So that I will find myself constantly amused and amazed, loved and in love, laughing and screaming, eating and drinking, sharing and just being. This New Years I am thankful for life and all the wonderful people it blesses me with.


love, moments, relationships, romance, stories, woman, words, writing

Part I – That Sophia Loren Dress

sophia-loren-floral-dress-1965The frenzy around who had just showed up on the other side of the bleachers where I was standing was palpable. It must be someone famous I thought. I didn’t rush, not like the other girls as they double hopped over the steely benches to run towards the right. I made my way down the steps, slowly and carefully. I even remember the way my bright purple New Balances with its grey undersoles touched down on every single step, planting itself over the aluminium grooves of the benches. I got down to the grass on the field and turned right to see what all the commotion was about. I am lucky I haven’t been dashed into or pushed aside by one of the crazier ladies from the lot jumping up and down in glee. Its funny how in moments of pure excitement, joy, elation, whatever you want to call it, even adults are brought down to their most guileless, rather child-like, versions of self.

In interest of trying to find out who exactly was there on the bleachers causing the spectators to lose their heads, I slowly made my way through a thinning crowd as he obliged to take selfies, sign things and hug or shake hands. Somehow, and I imagine it is because I am the creator of this story, I ended up smack in the front of the crowd phone camera all ready, thinking and partly hoping it is a public figure I would know. Unsurprisingly it is not. I have no idea who this man is, and just as I shrug my shoulders and put my phone away we make eye contact. His beaming smile pauses, not in those meet cute kind of ways, but almost flabbergasted that there would be one person in this sea of people who might, just might, be uninterested or unknowing of who he was. His eyes widen a little but he maintains eye contact. I look away in unease. And quickly make my way back through the crowd and out of the stadium. I take one last look back at him, busy posing, sandwiched between two blonde bombshells. Probably a famous athlete I think and walk away.

Few days later, I find myself out on the balcony of a beautiful Italian Villa, it may have been on Lake Como, it may have been somewhere in Santa Barbara, but I hope against all hopes that it was in Tuscany, Italy. There has always been a certain charm in the terracotta floors and an intoxication in the patterned limestone that almost guarantees any encounter one of romance, passion, sexy bed hair, wine and cigarettes. Anyway, so I find myself in what I think is my most beautiful Sophia-Loren-would-approve floral sun dress, out on the balcony looking down and ‘lo and behold’ who do I see? My unidentified, could be a famous athlete from the football field frenzy incident a few days back. His hair much lighter from the glow of the sun, on a brilliant blue Vespa, in a casual white and blue Henley, staring up at me after pulling into the cobbled driveway that the balcony I am on overlooks.

“Well, hello there,” he says. Smirk in place. I cannot tell if his accent is American or European. He speaks with no accent. What accent sounds like no accent I wonder. Shut up! I tell my mind that is going into unnecessary details from the nervousness. I fear if I step any closer to the sides of the balcony he will be able to see up my Sophia Loren dress. I furrow my brows in pretentious confusion, even as my insides burn up in nerves and I feel a deep flush beginning at the tip of my smaller than usual ears.

embracing yourself, existential crisis, lessons, life, love, moments, stories, thoughts, words, writing

Taming the Chaos in Reverie

Image: theclotheshorse

Image: theclotheshorse

“The thing to learn from this my dear,” she said, “is that even in perfection there are perfect invalidation. What begins must end, but what breaks apart will also somehow eventually come together. Such is the way. The existence of every sentiment, feeling, incident, experience, effort, thought, words, and everything else in between is makes up what is, your life, and mine. His life and hers. All the same. There is of course beauty in the beauty of momentarily getting caught up in life’s little quips and whims. It is what is thrown onto your path to make life worth living and appreciating. Don’t fear its capricious ways, don’t fear of being left hollow and alone at the end, don’t fear its spill overs, don’t fear hurt or hurting, don’t fear, don’t fear, don’t fear, my dear,” she said. “It is not this or that, it is not your reaction to survive the bitterness you’ve been trying to scrub away, but it is also not your genuine desire to be here, it is what happens when its meant to happen. You do not need to have it all figured out, ever! That is a requirement humans place on themselves constantly but oh-so-unnecessarily. Embrace the vagueness for once because no one is going to quiz you on how superficially you understood it in the end. No, no, it is just that, superficiality, because the thing about these almost perfect situations is that it has no bottom to measure its depth. It is only as deep as you pursue it. So many of us forget and tire of the pursuit so we create a bottom and claim thats as far as it was capable of going, but that’s not true my dear, it is as deep, as profound, and as extreme as you allow it to be. There is both beauty and ugliness in that. If you understand it, its perfect. But as I said when I started this conversation, even in perfection there are perfect invalidation,” she sighed. “Allow yourself to be happy, allow other people to be happy, it may not be your responsibility but it is possible. Your brokenness is not reason enough to stop it. Don’t fear, don’t fear, don’t fear my dear,” she said and disappeared back into the sleepy abyss from where I had dreamed her up.

anecdotes, contentment, embracing yourself, girl, lessons, life, love, moments, ramblings, stories, woman, words, writing, youth

Moments Like This

girlHave you ever had that experience when you seem to catch yourself in the midst of a moment, and in that precise time you realize, and feel, that everything is exactly as it should be. That you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world. Now, this is not to be confused with having something wonderful happen to you, like some celebration where the elated joy makes you giddy and you think, ‘I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world.’ This content moment I am talking about, and because it is precisely that…a moment in the midst of regular moments when all of a sudden you realize you are content with everything just as it is. Well, I had that over the weekend at what was my first house party in a very very long time.

I glance around the room and every one is exactly where they should be. Laughing, talking, kissing, and dancing in slow movements to what is clearly rock music blaring through the speakers. Giddy off of the sips of Jack and Coke, and possibly from all the hot-boxed second hand smoke from all the pot heads in the room, your spirit undeterred by what would usually be the thing that makes you turn your snooty nose up in the air, basically the cheap neon Christmas lights haphazardly stapled to the ceiling to give the basement the illusion of a space more often used than when mom and pops need to store away the old stuff. Everyone is a little trippy but you’re okay with that. The guy you made unusually rom-com like eye contact with as you walked down the steps to the ‘Boom Boom Room’ makes slow strides towards you and in a classic teenager-like move slips his large hands around your waist. Still, this feels right. Like this is exactly what needs to happen in this moment. It isn’t like I am that high either because everything is coming through crystal clear. I am fully aware of everything happening around me and to test myself I challenge myself to make the decision to stop the guy mid-kiss and walk away. I do it, successfully. Leaving him in the corner of the room, eyes like saucers now from the confusion. I laugh inwardly at my own weirdness.

In this moment I am aware of all my flaws but also all my virtues and I seem to be completely okay with it all. I accept them for what they are and realize that they don’t make me better or worse. They just make me me. This moment, infused with familiar faces and new ones, ones I will see again over the course of time, and others I will never ever remember, still feels like the best thing happening to me. I find myself with an unknown surge of confidence and an unprecedented level of comfort in just being me, in the exact shape and size and awkwardness and intelligence and inhibitions. I for once accept me and it feels pretty damn good. I don’t know what it is about the moment. Nothing deters me, not even the fifth time I am made to take an unappetizing jello shot made from fluorescent fruit jelly and what is clearly cheap vodka because it burns a trail as the jelly shimmies down my throat. No decisions made by me or made for me feels wrong so nothing is second guessed or thought twice about. This moment feels perfect, even when the a tiny part of my consciousness makes a nervous check on the super tan girl sitting down to snort what I counted as her third line. Boy I hope shes going to be okay. But even so, this moment feels great. For once I think maybe I can love myself just as much as I am capable of loving others. And this is a strange fuzzy feeling. One completely foreign to me.

I walk up the stairs and out back into the beautiful backyard. The sun’s rays make their first peeks bouncing off the water. The cool morning air feels luxurious against my sweaty skin from all the dancing in a windowless basement. I smile in contentment, wondering if this moment where I feel so sure and clear about how I feel about everything is something that will last. I wonder if it wears off as the buzz wears off, or the night wears off. I wonder if I can hold on to it. But I also realize that my body, with all its problems and imperfections is still capable of embracing everything and everyone, including myself, with complete satisfaction, never looking beyond the clearly demarcated white fence to glance at the grass on the other side.