Thursday, June 30, 2011

Language of the Heart

photo courtesy of

"We will grieve not, rather find
      Strength in what remains behind;
      In the primal sympathy
      Which having been must ever be;
      In the soothing thoughts that spring
      Out of human suffering;
      In the faith that looks through death,
In years that bring the philosophic mind.

Thanks to the human heart by which we live,
Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears,
To me the meanest flower that blows can give
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears."

-Excerpts from "Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood"  by William Wordsworth

i guess that by now it is no secret how much i adore poetry. poetry is to me the greatest food on earth. i read it, i write it, i drink it in like melted chocolate. it is sometimes exquistely good at capturing emotion in a way that nothing else can. it's also usually brief (minus a few epic poems, which actually end up being worth the struggle to get through if you have a good teacher) and therefore gets right to the heart of the matter.

i took these stanzas from William Wordsworth's "Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood" and i am sure he is just rolling in his grave at the fact that i chopped up his poem and served it to you on my blog a la carte - but these are my two favorite stanzas probably because they contain as little Old English as possible.

for as long as i can remember, i've always wanted to understand the secret power of words and language. i can remember being very little - before i could read - and seeing my dad read the newspaper. i wanted to know how this grey flimsy piece of paper could sustain his attention for so long. i wanted to know what those teeny-tiny little symbols meant when strung together in various lengths. i wanted to crack the code like a nut that needed to be broken open to surrender its rich, white meat. i can remember seeing shelves of dusty books with yellow, crunchy pages and realizing that they didn't look like my bright, colorful childhood plastic books. i learned this meant that they were old, that they came before me and i knew that this meant something. i wanted to know what. i wondered what their pages contained. i soon learned those pages contained whole worlds, entire thought systems, chunks of beliefs and streams of human consciousness made available from one mind and heart to another mind and heart via this mysterious vehicle of words.

my specific love of poetry began with music because the lyrics in songs always spoke to me. i remember getting my whole family together so that i could stand on our elevated brick fireplace platform and sing a song i wrote on my own. the song was called "Yesterday" and even though i sang off-key and even though a few lines were lifted from a Celine Dion song, i knew right then and there as i stared at my family all piled on the yellow floral couch - this was my calling. words. speaking them. singing them with all my heart. sharing them. words that meant something to the heart - words about heartache, words about suffering, words about reprieve. writing these words, speaking these words, speaking the language of the heart - i knew right away this was for me.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Falling into the Hole

a painting from a market in Ithaca, NY

There Is a Hole in My Sidewalk
Autobiography in Five Short Chapters

By Portia Nelson

Chapter One

I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost…I am helpless.
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

Chapter Two

I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend that I don’t see it.
I fall in again.
I can’t believe I am in this same place.
But, it isn’t my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.

Chapter Three

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep whole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in…it’s a habit…but,
My eyes are open
I know where I am
It is my fault.
I get out immediately,

Chapter Four

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

Chapter Five

I walk down another street.

i got this poem at a self-esteem workshop called "Taming Your Inner Critic" that i went to with my mom earlier this year. this poem was on the back of the pamphlet we recieved and i loved it. a lot. i also loved the workshop. it made me realize how negative self-talk is, first of all, quite common and is a developmental coping strategy that all children develop. i learned that in order to lessen its force we must understand where it came from, why we developped it, and really look at how it talks to us, what it sounds like and then go about the real work. the real work is supplanting the Inner Critic with an Inner Protector voice that steps in when the Inner Critic's cruel and unusual punishment even so much as whispers an untrue thought in our ear. (although to be honest my Inner Critic isn't so much into whispering. she looks a lot like Bellatrix Lestrange and has the voice similar to that of a fire alarm.)

i like this poem because the hole can mean anything to anyone at any time in their life. the hole is unconscious behavior. it's drinking too much, eating too much, eating too little, smoking too much, beating ourselves up, spending too much on things we don't need, being in an unhealthy relationship, checking out - it's whatever we keep doing that does not serve our highest good. there is something very important about the poem, and that is the idea that we have to keep making the same mistake sometimes in order to really get it - in order to fully comprehend why we do it, why we feel like we can't avoid the hole, and to figuire out for ourselves, what the lure of the hole is and to have some compassion with ourselves for falling.

my painting, "Dancers"

even if you aren't ready to leave the hole or walk around the hole, it's important to know that. it's important to know that there is some comfort in falling into a large inky black hole, where you can essentially disappear and escape the crust of the earth and the people walking on the sidewalk. if we are stuck in the hole or stuck in the habit of falling into the hole, there is usually an exquisitely good reason why we are doing it. our job is to figuire out the why and to be kind to ourselves as we learn the why. because, and i know this because my Inner Critic is the voice of a freaked out 5 year old and not that of a  mature adult, we never learn anything through our Inner Critic. our Inner Critic is dumb. it uses shame and guilt and fear. but we cannot shame or guilt or frighten ourselves into making lasting changes. that's where the Inner Protector swoops in, like a positive coach, like a good and loyal friend, like a nurturing parent that helps us see the issue and examine it without beating ourselves into orange juice pulp in the process. the Inner Protector provides positive feedback, encouragement. it is fiercely loyal, loving and protective. the Inner Protector is strong and reliable, calm and sure. and the truly beautiful thing is that the Inner Protector is us, is always inside of us and never leaves us. we can always trust in it.

my painting, "Dancer 1"

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

The Myth of Deficieny

"The biggest, most unquestioned answer of our culture is our relationship with money. It is there that we keep alive--at a high cost--the flame and mythology of scarcity." - Lynne Twist

this myth of scarcity that pervades our thought process as a human family manifests itself in money but also food, addictions, unconscious behaviors. when we believe that fundamentally there is something wrong with us - that there isn't enough within us - we will again and again rely on physical things outside of the self to placate the nervous tension that comes from the "trance of deficiency" as Tara Brach calls it.

as humans, we innately feel flawed. we feel that there is something wrong with us that sets us apart from others and if other people actually found out about who we really were underneath it all then they would reject us, not love us, be disgusted. but instead of sitting with this fear, this feeling and trying to break it apart, look at it, probe at it... we bolt. we buy cars, we get a new outfit, we eat a bag of chips while standing at the kitchen counter, we spend billions and billions of dollars on amassing weapons and defense and building up armies. we stockpile food, hide food, hoard. we are afraid that some day someone will come and take it all. this is an evolutionary tick, obviously, because back when we were nomads and a part of a traveling tribe, we had to be constantly poised to react to another tribe coming in and pillaging our resources. and then we would starve to death, we'd die of cold or be eaten by wolves. the problem is despite the fact that we as civilization (in most of the Western world that is) have evolved beyond this point, we still believe unquestionably, buried deep within us, that we are not enough. that there will never be enough. that we are not safe. that, since everyone else is hungry, afraid and empty, they will ruthlessly take from us and so we have to be prepared. but in doing so we perpetuate the myth. we actively perpetuate the fear. as Lynne Twist points out, we invest in fear. we literally put our money into it every single day. our government puts MASSIVE amounts of money into it every day.

it doesn't take a rocket scientist to realize after watching just 20 minutes of television these days that the myth of deficiency runs through every single commercial. buy this because you need it. wear this because then you will be loved. do this and you'll get friends, a partner. once you have this, then you will be good enough. then you will feel like you belong on this earth and have worth. it also doesn't take a rocket scientist to realize how insane that is. or to realize that enough is never enough. because you can't fill an aching and a longing in the center of your chest that is a feeling based on a thought process you had from childhood with some new pair of high heels. it's incongruent. how you heal that ache is by sitting with it. being with it. realizing that it will not, does not kill you and that in fact, it's based on a myth.

when we lift the veil and see that 1. we are not fundamentally flawed, 2. we are not all in opposition with one another, that there is plenty to go around,  we see that money is movement and is constantly being relocated and that we do not need to keep getting, buying, doing, hoarding, eating in order to prepare for a catastrophe that is soon to come. we also do not need to live in a constant state of fear that we will be rejected. we do not need to live inauthentically. in fact, we need to be living authentically. never in the course of human history has it ever been so important that each individual carry out his or her own purpose on this earth. and your purpose, despite media, tv and cultural upbringing, is not to make more money, have more stuff, be the Biggest Cheese, to be beautiful or be popular. your purpose is unique and distinct to you and therefore is not going to follow the same script as anyone else. certainly not the script that the Western world has written en masse for everyone. your job is to BE YOU, DO YOU, LOVE YOU. and in doing so, you will alleviate the burden, the myth that we are passing down to the children of the generations to come. you are actively saying to those infants with wide, searching eyes... "there is no formula. no set rules to follow. no one way to be, to act, to dress. there is no path to follow. there is only you." and by living your own life not based on fear or scarcity or deficiency, you help to ease these negative feelings from running the way we operate as a society on the whole.

ok... time to step off my soapbox and eat some lunch. or, depending on how you feel about what i just wrote... time to step of my lunchbox and eat some soap.

Monday, June 27, 2011

A Marriage Made in Nail Polish Heaven

Esse "Catch Me If You Can" + Milani "Disco Lights" =

if nail polishes could wed, i think these two would. but not a quicky-style Vegas wedding. they'd go real deal. with dark red peony bouqets and crushed velvet draped table settings. you see, Esse "Catch Me If You Can" is the strong, silent type. he's very supportive of Milani "Disco Lights." he's the base and lets her shine and sparkle and dance in the sunrays. they're the perfect match! they could probably use the protection of Clear Polish (because what couple doesn't need the protection/aid of an invisible higher power?)

leave it to me to get philosophical about nail polish. jeeze louise and it's only Monday.

Saturday, June 25, 2011

Innerpeach-berry Pibbler

just *some* of the many ingredients you'll need...

recipe based off of Gluten-Free Girl gluten-free cherry crumble pie


crumbly crumb top

what do you get when you cross a pie with a cobbler? a shoe-maker with a pie in his face! haha just kidding, you get a pibbler of course!

originally this was supposed to be a peach pie but the white peaches we got from the market were soooooo good that i decided to eat them whole.... which left us shy 3 or 4 peaches. so instead, i got crafty and added some blueberries, hence innerpeach-berry. i understand baking is scientific and requires a certain level of "exactitude" but lets be real... life is everything but exact. i also based this recipe off of Gluten-Free Girl's Cherry Crumble Pie and instead of cups and teaspoons shes uses grams (how European of her!) so since i don't have a scale (anywhere. not even in my bathroom. never have, never will. those things are eeeeevvvviiilllll) i went online to a conversion calculator website and got everything in tablespoons. which is funny because there are a lot of tablespoons. so if you plan on making this, you've been warned. you also should be warned that none of this is "exact" so don't freak out or anything when your crust starts to fall apart a bit (like mine did.) and if ANYONE gives you smack about it, laugh while cocking your head back ever so slightly and flick your hand nonchalantly and say, "well. that is what a pibbler is supposed to look like, didn't you know? oh, you don't know what a pibbler is? that's a shame because they are really all the rage in the Scandinavian foothills." and before they can ask you what or where the Scandinavian foothills are, you stuff your mouth with pibbler and walk away.

by the way nothing goes better with anything innerpeach-berry pibbler than Handel's homemade Dulce de Leche icecream. my dad decided this and off we drove to get a pint of the delicious nectar of the gods. *interesting fact: my dad loves to pretend he is Latin American (even though he is 100% Irish, bless his heart) and loves to say "dul-chay de laaaaaayyy-chay" like he is some suave Latino who can salsa. (he wishes.)

usually the line is 20+ deep.. (p.s., note the brave man wearing the pink shirt and toting his girlfriend's hot pink purse on his shoulder. um, that's love.)

where the magic happens

gluten-free pie crust

15 tbsp. brown rice flour (i use Bob's Red Mill)
9 tbsp. potato starch
5 tbsp. almond flour
5 tbsp. cornstarch
1/2 tsp. salt
9 tbsp. organic coconut oil (this stuff is da bomb. i use this kind and i put it on everything. i will dedicate a whole post to it later)
6 tbsp ice cold water

inner-peach berry filling

2 cups sliced peaches
1 cup blueberries
3 tbsp. dark brown sugar
1 tbsp. Agave
1 tbsp. honey
zest of 1 lemon
juice of 1 lemon
1/2 tsp. Madagascar bourbon vanilla extract
3 tbsp. cornstarch
1 tbsp. applesauce

crumbly-crumble top

3 tbsp. brown rice flour
3 tbsp. potato starch
3 tbsp. almond flour
8 tbsp. packed brown sugar
7 tbsp. cornmeal
4 tbsp. steel cut oats
1 tsp. cinnamon
9 tbsp. coconut oil

you can follow the instructions of how to put this all together via Gluten-Free Girl's website (only difference is some of the ingredients.) you could also just go ahead and use her recipe even though, um, it's not a pibbler. so the choice is really yours.

inside of everything sweet there is always *innerpeach*

Friday, June 24, 2011

All I Need's a Greaser, a Hula Hoop and a Coonskin Cap

(play music while scrolling through the pictures!)

tiger lily

red hot poker/johnny rocket

Dress: Bad Girl Vintage, Shoes: Charles David leather/wooden platforms

ummm how cool is this two piece 50's dress? i got it from Bad Girl Vintage's Etsy Shop. i mentioned to a co-worker in passing that i liked vintage clothing and she told me about Linda Wink's Bad Girl Vintage store in Willow Grove. i haven't been able to get to the store yet but i did spend about an entire day going through Linda's Etsy shop practically drooling with puppy dog, googely-eyes the entire time . when i saw this dress, i knew right away that it was for me. the dress came a few days after i ordered it (for a very, very good price of $75.00 with free shipping!) the dress is in near perfect condition with no weird smells or anything. the fabric is breezy and comfortable but also quite delicate especially around the metal zippers (which lets you know it is authentically 50's.) please excuse the many recurring photos of my backside but i kept saying to my mom (and dad) who were taking the photos, "didya get one of the cute bow in the back?!?! didya didya?!?!" also please excuse the many recurring pictures of the side angle of my face. i'm really going to need to start working on my glamazon model techniques if i keep doing more of these outfit pics.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Discipline and Freedom

photo courtesy of
a good friend shared something with me recently that really struck a cord and i wanted to share it with you. it's a piece written by Matthew Kelly, author of a book called "The Best Version of Yourself" which i have not read but i could definitely use since lately i feel like i've been operating as the best version of oh say - a paperclip - instead of the best version of myself. *warning: this piece contains a story about Jesus. but whether you dig the guy or not, you have to admit... he had some pretty awesome hair. am i right???

"The Role of Discipline

Jesus said, "I have come that you may have life and have it to the fullest" (John 10:10). The path that leads to "fullness of life" is discipline. There are four major aspects of the human person - physical, emotional, intellectual, and spiritual. When we eat well, exercise often, and sleep regularly, we feel more fully alive physically. When we love, when we give priority to the significant relationships of our lives, when we give of ourselves to help others in their journey, we feel more fully alive emotionally. When we study, we feel more fully alive intellectually. When we come before God in prayer, openly and honestly, we experience life more fully spiritually. All of these life-giving endeavors require discipline. When are we most fully alive? When we embrace a life of discipline. The human person thrives on discipline.
Are you thriving? Or are you just surviving?
Discipline awakens us from our philosophical stupor and refines every aspect of the human person. Discipline doesn't enslave or stifle the human person; rather, it sets us free to soar to unimagined heights. Discipline sharpens the human senses, allowing us to savor the subtler tastes of life's experiences. Whether those experiences are physical, emotional, intellectual, or spiritual, discipline elevates them to their ultimate reality. Discipline heightens every human experience and increases every human ability. The life and teachings of Jesus Christ invite us to embrace this life-giving discipline.
Many people consider Jesus irrelevant today because he proposes a life of discipline. Is discipline then to be considered the core of Jesus' philosophy? No. Christ proposes a life of discipline not for its own sake, and certainly not to stifle or control us; rather, he proposes discipline as the key to freedom.
In the midst of the complexities of this modern era, we find ourselves enslaved and imprisoned by a thousand different whims, cravings, addictions, and attachments. We have subscribed to the adolescent notion that freedom is the ability to do whatever you want, wherever you want, whenever you want, without interference from any authority. Could the insanity of our modern philosophy be any more apparent? Freedom is not the ability to do whatever you want. Freedom is the strength of character to do what is good, true, noble, and right. Freedom without discipline is impossible.
Is freedom then to be considered the core of Jesus' philosophy? No. What then, is the core of his philosophy? Well, as it turns out, the people of his own time were curious for an answer to this very question.
One day, while Jesus was teaching a large group of people in the synagogue, a man asked Our Lord a question from his position in the multitude. He was a learned man, one of those doctors of the law who were no longer able to understand the teaching revealed to Moses because it had become so twisted and entangled in the ways of men. He questioned Our Lord, saying, "Teacher, which is the greatest of the Commandments?"
Jesus opened his divine lips slowly, with the calm assurance of somebody who knows what he is talking about and replied, "You shall love the Lord your God with your whole heart, your whole mind, and your whole soul. This is the first and the greatest of the Commandments. And the second is like it, you shall love your neighbor as yourself. Upon these two rest the whole law and all the prophets" (Matthew 22:34-40). (Continued on page 5)
Love is the core of Jesus' philosophy. But, in order to love you must be free. For to love is to give your self freely and without reservation.
Yet, to give your self - to another person, to an endeavor, or to God - you must first possess your self. This possession of self is freedom. It is a prerequisite for love, and is attained only through discipline."

now i dont care if you believe in Jesus or Buddha or rutabegas or whatever. it doesn't really matter. the message is what matters, and i find this story to have a very beautiful message. and though this may ostracize me in some ways from certain people, i actually dig Jesus. i dig what he taught about love being the most important thing of all. i dig that he wore sandals and hung out with people with lepresy and challenged the status quo. i also dig Buddha and if i ever had a rutabega, id probably dig that too (like out of the ground. haaaa, ya see what i did there?)

anyway, after reading this piece i thought, "pffff i have the whole loving my neighbor thing down. but discipline? i can't discipline myself!" discipline is hard for me. not only because the word itself evokes images of my Catholic school kilts but also because i want it all. i dont want to deny myself. i want to get everything out of life, i want to suck life dry, i want the whole cake, i want to sleep for 10 hours a day.... i'm afraid if i don't have it all RIGHT NOW then it will go away, that someone else will take it and i won't be able to enjoy it. (hmmm i'd say i have some abundancy/scarcity issues, wouldn't you?)

at the same time that discipline is hard for me (because i don't want to deny myself of anything,) i am also exceedingly cruel to myself for no reason whatsoever. (it's ok if you're confused here, the whole business of "worth" and "worthiness" is confusing to me too.) i told my friend, who shared this piece with me, that loving my neighbor as myself wasn't the hard part for me. i can love other people, no problem. in fact, i love other people WAY MORE and WAY BETTER than i love myself. but Jesus didn't say "love your neighbor more than yourself." he said "love your neighbor as yourself." well, whoa. i am much, much kinder to my friends when they are upset over an issue than i am to myself when i am upset over an issue. with them, i tell them not to worry, that everything will be OK, that they are bigger than any problem they could ever face. but with myself? not so much. i treat myself like a human whipping post at best. and the real question is how well am i actually loving others when i am treating myself so cruelly? probably not as best as i can be. (so pssttt hey mom, i know you're reading this. this means i can only get BETTER at loving you!)

so, hm. loving myself. disciplining myself. these seem like contradictory things don't they? but in order to love ourselves we must be free and freedom comes in disciplining ourselves. good discipline that is self-generated and from a place of self love (not punishment) is discipline that Geneen Roth calls "if love could speak" guidelines. if love could speak it would say, "do you really want that entire cake? won't that hurt your tummy, love?" if love could speak it would say, "why don't you spend 20 minutes cleaning and organizing so that later when you're rushing around and stressed out, you will be able to find things and you won't get upset." discipline is good when we disclipline our minds from NOT thinking negative thoughts about self (uh, that means no more treating the self like a whipping post) and discplining our time by using it productively with things that we realistically need to get done (work, cleaning, etc.) so that we can actually enjoy the time when we get to do nothing.

 in my post about moderation, i talked about moderation being an art form that we must cultivate - an art that the French call "l’√©quilibre" which means to keep one's balance. it's related to the english word equilibrium which is defined as "a state of rest or balance due to the equal action of opposing forces." equi = equanimity, equality, balance. libre = freedom. there is freedom in balance. there is freedom in recognizing and holding the opposing forces, the yin and yang, the light and darkness, in each of us. oh and one more thing. i promise this is your last vocabulary lesson of today.... the word discipline? did anyone else notice that it's related to the word disciple? well disciple comes from a Latin word meaning "learner" and discipline comes from one meaning "instruction, knowledge." so that means discipline = constantly learning. practice, practice, practice.  yes, Iverson, we talkin' bout practice, man. practice? yeah, practice. which is good because the past few days have not been too "balanced" for me. in fact, i lost my phone somewhere in a mattress store because my mind was so out of it. but - and here's the kicker - i'm learning as i go. i stumble, i get back up. i stumble, i get back up. i stumble, i get back up. rinse and repeat.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

"People from a planet without flowers would think we must be mad with joy the whole time to have such things about us." ~ Iris Murdoch

blood red dahlia


stargazer lily

i stumbled on this quote via "internet trail of crumbs" as i like to call it. internet trail of crumbs: (n) when you sort of leap frog from one website to another and find something interesting there so then you wikipedia it and then find a link through wikipedia and off of that link you find another interesting thing. it's really very fun, i play internet trail of crumbs every single day and it always amazes me what little treasures i find. this particular trail looked a little something like this:

Bleubird Vintage ---> books, paper, scissors ---> Iris Murdoch wikipedia page --> Iris Murdoch quotes

i recommend visiting all of those sites, particularly "books, paper, scissors" which is a site i could quite literally spend whole days on just soaking in the illustrations like sunlight. speaking of soaking in sunlight, do you like my pictures of flowers? a few are taken from the Philadelphia Flower Show that i went to in March, one is from the terrain booth at the Devon Horseshow and the last one is of a hanging flower in St. Croix. for some reason flowers always remind me of my mom and my nana. i think it's because my mom loves and my nana loved to grow flowers, to tend to them and to foster their little development - however short their lives were. to mom and nana it didn't matter how long the flower bloomed but rather how beautifully. before my nana's stroke, she dutifully tended to her small house plants which she would call "the infirmary." my nana grew and tended to nature the way she tended to her daughters, to her grandchildren, to strangers, to each and every soul she touched - with consistent waterings of kindness and beams of fierce love warmer than sunlight. she was also hilarious, my nana. i realize everyone thinks their grandmothers are special, but mine was truly an examplary woman who i think of daily especially when i see flowers.

Monday, June 20, 2011

The First Rejection: Are You Over Your First Love?

photo courtesy of tumblr

today at lunch i walked to the river to eat my avocado, chicken & asparagus sandwich underneath one of those tunnel bridge things (they always remind me of Europe and men in striped shirts and berets rowing couples romantically in a gandola ...) anyway i had the unfortunate - or fortunate? - pleasure of sitting right near two young tweeny-boppers in the middle of a break up. the girl, (the dumpee) a cute blonde, was holding her knees to her chest and curled up as small as possible, tightly hugging her flowy flower dress to her mouth. her white high heels lay toppled on the dirt cobblestone. the boy (the dumper) was a long-haired sk8er boi with a black tee shirt, jeans and some vans. the girl sniffled away quietly as the boy talked in hushed tones. for the entire length of my lunch this girl sniffled. i was so tempted to hand her one of my napkins. i was also tempted to go over there and say this to her (and sk8er boi):

hi sweetheart. here, use this napkin to blow your nose. no, it's not embaressing to blow your nose in front of this guy. i know how hard you are trying to remain perfect, but perfect doesn't exist. (in fact, your desperation to be perfect might actually be the root of the problem here.) i know from personal experience.  i know because i was here too, crying at age 15, being dumped by the guy who i thought was my one true love. only, he did it to me over instant message. and instead of crying to him like you are now, i cried to my mom. deep, guteral screams that couldn't possibly have had anything to do with the guy who dumped me - they had more to do with the scorching pain of being rejected. but kudos to you, sk8er boi, for dumping her in person and for having the balls to sit with her while she cries. and kudos to you, girl-who-is-trying-so-hard-to-be-perfect, for letting him see you cry. you guys are already way ahead of my 15 year old self. but look at me now, i got through it and i'm still here. life goes on, life gets better. you'll meet someone who loves you like crazy and who makes you feel worthy. and don't think for one second that hes dumping you for any reason you could possibly understand. its not because your hair is too frizzy, or because you are too 'fat' (whatever that means), or because you don't wear the right clothes. its not because you chose to wear a flowery dress today - it's not about any of this stuff. it's about him and his complicated inner-world and the fact that he is a messy human being just like the rest of us. so go ahead, girl, cry your eyes out to him. tell him you are angry, upset, disappointed, sad - whatever. just use your voice...and let him hear you! you're entitled to be loud, to say what you feel and to get good and angry. and sk8er boi, just listen. listen to her story. both of you, be honest with eachother. you may get back together, you may not. but the point is that you two are being present with eachother through a sensitive human encounter and it takes guts to stay with ourselves during these kinds of moments. the good news here is that they are just moments, meaning they don't last forever. the good stuff will come back, i promise.  and after all it's only teenage wasteland.