life – The Messy Middle 🖤

Location: Heaven on Earth

going to a bookstore when it’s raining
swimming in the rain
a gulp of ice-cold water after physical activity
my mother’s laughter
snow falling
my dog placing her paw on me to get my attention
a song that transports me back to a specific moment or time in my life
a smell that transports me back to a specific moment or time in my life
the sweet spot between buzzed and tipsy when everything is warm, fuzzy, and alright
inside jokes
speaking solely through eye contact
the moments between awake and asleep when awareness hasn’t entered the chat yet
a crush
the horizon on the ocean
a shower after being out in the sun and in the water
singing with the audience at a concert
the feeling of seeing one of your favorite artists perform live for the first time
watching a child experience something for the first time
funnel cake at an event
nutella

–S.

capturing the human condition

I quit Instagram a couple of weeks ago for hopefully the last time.

By quit, I mean that I deleted all of my posts, unfollowed everyone, and closed my account.

I know you’re probably thinking why is she saying quit when she means delete – I’m saying quit because social media feels like a sport to me that I was forced to participate in regardless of any real talent or passion for it. It felt like something to do and continue doing to belong.

Quitting sounds more final to me, and I guess I’m hoping that it is.

I didn’t tell anyone, I just disappeared again on a random weeknight at two in the morning.

Once it was done, I felt like I’d done it all outside of my own body, but it couldn’t be undone.

I’ve come back several times over the last few years under different usernames, but it just never felt like the very beginning.

The reason I fell in love with Instagram was because it was so focused on pictures versus words.

Words had been why I’d quit Facebook to begin with.

Being able to read what was on everybody’s mind every second of the day became too much for me.

After algorithms, influencers, and the ability to pay for followers, likes, and comments – I just fell out of love with Instagram.

I felt like a needle thrown into an ocean.

I don’t know why the lack of engagement in my photographs and videos mattered so much to me, but it did.

It does.

It made me feel as invisible on the internet as I did in my own life.

This was the last piece of social media to go for me.

Since quitting, there’s been feelings of guilt for missing the posts of family and friends. There has been moments where I have the urge to scroll through hours of short video clips and nowhere to do it.

It’s been weird trying to navigate and find what to fill the free time that I have now with.

The worst time for the “craving” is right before I go to bed.

I guess I never realized how much time I spent scrolling, but I did realize how shitty it was making me feel about myself and my life.

Eventually I know I’ll get over the feeling, but I feel like a creep for not having social media at 32.

Did I just commit social suicide?

What will other people think about me and why do I even care?

I kept coming back because I wanted a space for my videos and photos.

I wanted to share my point of view of the human condition.

But I couldn’t get away from the constant nagging in my head over the lack of likes and followers.

So, here I am, with hundreds of videos and thousands of photographs.

What am I going to do with all of these moments of time that I’ve captured?

I’m going to put them here. In my neck of the internet woods.

There might be about ten of you, but at least I know you’re here for the words and not to ask me if I’m looking for a sugar daddy, to sell me a waist trainer, or to spam me.

If you’re interested in seeing all of the moments in time that I’ve captured over the years, go to the top of my website where the menu is located, select ‘capturing the human condition’, and you will see three different sections:

camcorder: this section will be for videos and their captions
photo gallery: this section will be for all of my original photography all captured over the years with whatever android cellphone I’m using at the time with captions
polaroid wall: this section will be a collection of all of the polaroids that have been used for my posts, I’ve edited these polaroids using all of my original photography all captured over the years with whatever android cellphone I’m using at the time with captions

I’m grateful you’re here.

Honest.

–S.

topics

I’ve named this space many different things on WordPress over the years.

Some of them I can’t remember anymore.

To name a few – I’ve been: Glittering Blackness, A Wildflower in the City, Texas Tumbleweed, Tales of a Texas Tumbleweed, Sunny Side Up-ish, Honeybun Heart, Crybaby, and something to do with a kaleidoscope.

In the middle of many nights, I’ve spiraled into needing to re-name immediately.

I don’t know if it’s just part of my personality, being a gemini, trying to keep busy to self soothe my depression, or some other disorder, but I’m always switching from name to name, project to project, list to list.

I never feel rooted in place. I’m never here.

I’m back in the past or somewhere in the future.

So, this final, re-name, for lack of a better word, is the start of the rest of my life. My posts, this time around, span back about a year sprinkled with days, weeks, and months of inactivity. There’s been some consistency, but not as much as I want.

I want, so deeply, to make this space a living and breathing thing.

I’ve never taken my writing seriously. I’ve always yearned to, but life always gets in the way somehow. Better yet, I’ve let things get in the way.

I allowed it.

Now that I’m off of social media and searching for a place to post all of my photographs and videos, it seems like the perfect time to take, not only my writing, but myself more seriously.

I’m not sure what else says taking yourself more seriously than an entire website dedicated to your own words, photos, videos, experiences, memories, and emotions.

Dedicated to The Messy Middle feels right. Like I was always making my way here.

Isn’t everything happening to, and around us, until death the messy middle anyway?

Here’s to me betting on myself. Finally.

Note: if you’re not into scrolling through all of my posts one-by-one and want to read about specific topics – I’ve organized all of my posts by category and you can access that in the ‘topics’ section of the menu at the top of the website with options like poetry, letters, and love.

I still can’t believe you come here to read what I have to say.

–S.

Don’t Forget.

A couple of weeks ago, I opened my bedroom door to find that a shelf had fallen off of my wall.

Scattered on the floor were greeting cards that I’d received from family and friends over the last several years for birthdays and holidays that I’d been housing on this shelf.

We tend to read the cards quickly, missing their meaning entirely, and storing them away.

It could be that the nails holding the shelf up had simply had enough, but I couldn’t help but think that the universe wanted me to remember.

I took a moment today to read all of the cards again in a bookstore cafe.

Often, we focus only on what we are not or what we want to be.

Seldom, we remember what we have meant to others and how others view us in this life.

I’m compiling a list here for reference material on those days that I forget who I’ve been and who I am and am in need of a friendly reminder.

Here’s what those closest to me said that I am or what I’ve meant to them:

trustworthy, my person-my peace, one of a kind, favorite human, a real friend

dependable, wonder, a real one, endless shiny hair, a rare diamond

independent, beautiful, smart, hilarious, giver, supportive

kind, positive, encouraging, beautiful soul, a person to be proud of, giving

efficient, hard worker, fearless, bright, a light, loyal, loving

looking forward to growing old together, sweet, hard worker, intuitive, strong

beauty, wonderful, courageous, so much wisdom

wise, glad we met, so much fun to be around, light in my life

deserving of love and happiness, you bring joy, enough, gorgeous

“i plan on keeping you,” unique soul, appreciated

partner in crime, intelligent, brave

adventurous, reliable, funny, talented

“you sell yourself short, give yourself more credit”

“remember, you are your best thing”

“you will change the world one day”

“i have looked up to you for a lifetime”

I’m encouraging you to make your own list when you need to shift your perspective with a little help from family and friends.

–S.

Put yourself in the way of beauty.

I’m grateful for the Sunset.
The sunrise too, but I’m rarely ever awake for that.

Several years ago, I was feeling lost, and I started driving to ghost towns around Texas and venturing out into towns and cities where no one knew my name. I was like a highway vagabond on my days off.

I fell in love with photographing the sky – especially the sunset.

No matter how ugly the day was, it always ended so beautifully.

It taught me that both endings and beginnings are magical.

The sky is never the same twice. Each day – it joins the sun and the moon to create something unique and I fell in love with that.

This is one of my favorite Cheryl Strayed Quotes:

There’s always a sunrise and always a sunset and it’s up to you to choose to be there for it,’ said my mother. ‘Put yourself in the way of beauty.

I hope you’re putting yourself in the way of beauty in your own life.

–S.

Sorry Mama, but tonight I’m cleaning out my closet.

It was a pretty disheartening day yesterday, but this journey is all about transparency and authenticity for me, so I wanted to share my truth.

I’ve been meaning to clean out my closet for a while now. It’s overflowing with what seems like nothing that I want to wear and nothing that I feel good in.

I read somewhere that your closet should make you want to dance. My closet makes me want to cry.

So, yesterday, I took all of the clothes out of my closet and lifted them up one by one.

I saw crop tops, sheer tops, why did you ever buy these tops, burn these tops, use these as a rag tops, I will fit into these one day tops.

I saw muffin top pants, walking through a creek pants, never seen the light of day shorts, never fit over my thighs workout tights, I will fit into these one day bottoms.

The list goes on and on.

With more items in the donation pile than in the keep pile, I was feeling pretty awful.

I’d wasted all this money buying clothes for myself that I WISHED I’d fit into, or what I WANTED to look like, but nothing that I truly would or could wear.

I only let myself keep one box of – I really love this and might fit into this eventually clothes.

So, five bags for donation and a whole lot of self-pity later…I honestly feel lighter.

I WANT to and CAN wear everything in my closet now.

I don’t have to sift through all of the bullshit anymore.

I also splurged on a few new pieces and added those to my closet – clothes that fit, not clothes that fit a fantasy of who I think I should look like.

So, I don’t know that my closet necessarily makes me want to dance yet, maybe tap my foot and nod my head to the beat, but I’m done looking like I’m ready to attend a funeral, and now I can get ready for the party instead (let’s be real…the party of life).

Anyway, that’s my truth.

–S.

Running.

I don’t really remember running.

I’m sure I did as a child, and was forced to during the annual fitness test, and for certain gym class activities.

But you know your brain can block out traumatic experiences, so I’m sure that’s what happened.

I always saw it as something only ‘skinny’ people could do, so why bother?

I walk at least an hour every day now and it never fails that I see at least one person running.

For a second, those old feelings hit me:

You can’t run.
You’ll never be able to run.
You’ll never have a runner’s body.
On and on they go.

Lies that I tell myself that I’ve collected over the years – I don’t even think half of the statements are true.

So, I called bullshit today.

I’ve known since last night that I was going to attempt to run today, so I stalled all day.

Around 5p, I was hitting the – yeah, I’m tired of working out every day, mood, y’know – good old self-sabotage.

Then I walked half a mile to the Elementary School behind my house – skinny women in sports bras, flat stomachs showing, everywhere on the track.

The Universe must hate me.

And then my feet hit the pavement, and something happened.

I ran.

I really believed that I couldn’t – wholeheartedly.

Like I really thought I’d make it about 5 steps and pass out. Roast in the Texas sun like a glazed honey ham – only to be found in the morning by a bird taking a shit.

I ran a total of .75 of a mile.

Something big happened.

Something shifted in me.

I thought of every time that I said NO to something because of my weight without even trying, but today I said YES to a future of trying.

I’m not a runner. Nor am I skinny. Nor do I have a runner’s body, whatever the fuck that is, but I ran today and felt alive.

–S.

You’re Invited to a Birthday Party.

There is this thing about birthdays – something ALWAYS happens.

The boy you love doesn’t love you back. The friend you really want to be at your gathering is not there. Some friendship is not where it needs to be. Something about your body doesn’t look quite right. The outfit you picked a week ago doesn’t look as good as it did in the fitting room. When does that ever happy, anyway?

I feel like I have ruined some of the most important moments in my life for myself. The overtime that I put the thoughts in my head through and the expectations that I set for people, or relationships, or moments.

I am finally learning to live in the moment. I understand that every birthday is a year closer to death.

However, how much more afraid would you be to die if you never really lived at all? If you never celebrated? If you never made ridiculous wishes as you blew out your candles? If you never got your face smashed into your cake by your older brother? If your dog never came and swiped a piece of food off of the table during your party while no one was looking If you didn’t take the 5,621 and a half pictures that your parent wanted you to? If you didn’t dance horribly to your favorite song with a group of your closest friends? If there wasn’t just a little sadness mixed in with pure joy? If there wasn’t some god awful presents that you had to put your fake smile on during the opening of them?

You wouldn’t be afraid of dying, you’d just be dead.

I think my biggest fear comes from the greatest moments not being able to last forever. One day, they will fade. I will fade. And someone somewhere will be wishing that their best friend Piper came to their birthday party and the whole day will be ruined. Even though their mom made the birthday cake from scratch. Even though there is a used truck with a big red bow parked in front of their house.

Turn off your thoughts every once in a while. And just celebrate. Act like those 6 or 7 hours are your last. And when you blow those candles out, wish for forever.

And let’s stop ruining things for ourselves before they’ve even happened. Just because something isn’t how we imagined it – doesn’t mean it isn’t beautiful in it’s own right.

Let’s celebrate everything – because we never know when the last time is the last time.

Please, PLEASE, go out and celebrate.

–S.

Royal.

Excerpt from a recent birthday card to my friend.

This day – today – is our BEST day.

Yesterday is gone. It’s never coming back.

Tomorrow isn’t promised.

So, we can plan, write, hope, dream, wish, and fantasize about the future, and that’s all good and well, but all any of us really have is the 24 hours in front of us. And for some of us who woke up today, we might not get to complete our full 24 hours.

Some people didn’t wake up today. Some people lost a loved one today. Somebody was raped today. Somebody miscarried a child today. Somebody found out their partner fell out of love with them today. Somebody’s son was shot today. Somebody’s daughter was kidnapped today. Somebody was handed divorce papers today. Somebody found out their husband was cheating on them today. Somebody found out their wife is pregnant by somebody else today.

So, we need to really start counting our blessings. What we DO have versus what we don’t.

We need to practice gratefulness daily.

It’s obviously easier to have an attitude of gratitude when you feel good about yourself, when you’re happier. But through times of sorrow, of grief, of pain and heartache, we have to maintain those things that we are grateful for.

I know I’ve said – I understand why someone would not want to be here anymore, but I DO want to be here.

Sometimes it gets so dark, and the light is hard to find. It feels as if it might never shine on you again, but we have to realize that the light comes from within. That we are the light. We are the answer.

You’re so beautiful. Don’t roll your eyes or laugh, hear me out here. People tried to break you down. They used you. They manipulated you. Your giving heart and your kind spirit, they took advantage of it. But you persevered anyway. You stayed beautiful inside. You never switched up. You never let the losers and the cheaters and the beaters and the abusers and the fraudulent souls change your light inside.

Did the flame flicker? Yes it did. Does it shine as brightly as it probably should? Not always. But does it shine? Despite all the odds stacked against you. Your spirit is unbreakable, that’s one of the main reasons you are so beautiful. Your resilience.

A TRUE Queen.

–S

Maybe, Baby.

I used to be a planner. Writing all over calendars. Buying multiple planners. Bucket lists. To-do lists. No spontaneity. Where am I going to be five years from now? I had the answer. 10 years from now? I had that on lock too.

The thing is that life rarely ever goes according to plan, but that’s where the magic happens. That’s where you visit a ghost town. Kiss a man that makes you laugh. Dream a new dream. Go out with a new friend. Dance with your old friends. Find a little black dress. You sing your favorite songs during late night drives. You pick soda instead of salad. Eat out too much. Read too many books. Splurge on a beautiful purse. Spend too much money on make-up. Make the most memories. Do the most living.

You learn from all of the scraped knees and mistakes. You grow.

I think it’s still critical to plan for certain things, but I don’t have everything figured out anymore. And it’s a beautiful feeling. I’m free to do anything and be anyone.

So, I don’t know.

Maybe 10 years from now I’m living in a cabin in Oregon and writing books.

Maybe I have the husband and the 2.5 kids in the two story house.

Maybe I live by the coast and work odd-end jobs.

Maybe I’m a gypsy.

Maybe I’m just me.

–S.