#feel #truth (Taken with instagram)

this just isn’t right!

(via picsandquotes)

nicolescreamed:

God, I love e.e. cummings

(via sharpedlamb)

indeed. i did a damn good job so far!

my story.

it’s been a while since i’ve written and for some reason i couldn’t find it in me. not until now. 

i was born into a loving, middle class family, spoiled by grandparents. every summer in my younger years, my father’s parents and aunt took care of my sister and i. we were woken up bright and early and walked out of the house in our pajamas and a suitcase in hand. i loved it. most children go on vacation with their parents to fancy, upscale locations. not me. my parents have always worked hard to make ends meet. it’s not that they didn’t make time for us, because they did, they just did what they had to do to make sure we lived a happy, content life. every summer, i’d spend a week at a time at my grandparents. i’d wake up early and be greeted with the most loving kisses. excitement filled my grandmother’s eyes as she saw me rise, healthy and alive. this wasn’t occasionally, this was every time. my grandmothers love is unlike any love. coming from a strict, hispanic family my grandmother never learned to drive or to speak English. she would teach me everyday what her world consisted of. she’d wait for me to come down the stairs and as i walked through that kitchen door a numerous amount of breakfast options were available. she’d prepare breakfast, sit down at the table, watch me eat and tell me stories. she loves to tell stories and is wonderful at doing so. there is always a purpose to her words and a lesson to be learned. although spanish was my secondary language and very rough around the edges, she helped me to understand. she often told me stories of myself as a baby. how beautiful and calm i was. how i would run frantically with excitment in circles in my crib when someone mysteriously rang the doorbell or knocked on the door. she’d help me visualize it; show me the corner in the kitchen in which the crib stood sturdy; in the kitchen, so she could always watch me. my grandmother was always in the kitchen, making food and admring the roses out the window into her backyard. anytime a bird landed in a flower pot she’d quietly yell at me to come over and observe the delicate creature. she’d prepare me with bread and send me on my way to feed them and she’d peacefully watch. as she would describe the crib and placement, she’d run in circles showing me how well i was at doing so. as soon as the front door would open, i’d plot myself, butt first, in the dead center of the crib. she’d laugh and laugh and express how comical i was. she loves me, all of me, and truly appreciates all the little moments in between the hectic schedule of life. she is observant, strong, generous, loving and this set me up for the life i was to live. she has shown me honesty and compassion at such a young age; so i could prosper in all the right ways. i’ve never met someone more beautiful then my grandmother and there is no one else i could thank more.

so here i am, years later, subconciously being who my grandmother prepared me to be. this explains my artistic ways and huge imagination, my passion for writing and dedication to life, but most importantly why i love to love. there is nothing more in the world i want then to have what my grandmother did. to raise a child to be hopeful, beautiful, kind, sincere, artistic, secure and admirable. to build a bond and strong foundation in which a child can succeed. not in a career, but in a family, love, and passion. i want to drive a child to be more and most importantly love themselves.

it seems as though everything in my life that can go wrong, goes wrong. scratch that, not wrong just extremely off path. i’m very positive and although times of turmoil tend to bruise me, i thrive off of it. i don’t allow failure to consume me and seek the true meaning of each test. i love it. i want to better the individual i am.

so i’ll start from the beginning; when life truly nudged me. i was sixteen and found myself at a church. unknowingly, purposely placed there. it was my start of individualism and discovering beliefs. not religious beliefs, but beliefs that i held the key to make decisions for myself. from there i found my first real relationship. the first time i felt an uncontrollable love. the wrong love, with many battles, but a rememberable one at that. we were completely wrong for each other. complete opposites. i was driven, he was content, i was artistic, he was strong, i was honest, he hated it, i was secure, he wasn’t, i was falling, he was okay. with all this i was facing discouragement at work. my health took a turn and i couldn’t quite understand it. i had been healthy all my life, nothing could seriously be wrong. i attempted with life for as long as i could and did everything possibly, wrong and right. i finally broke. i had an urgency to better myself. i wanted to establish more of who i was. i did new things: started college, pursued my passion of photography and got a new job. the point in which i was most dedicated to change, everything around me seemed to change as well. a new love had come and gone as friends turned their backs and did everything to show me disbelief, rejection, and pain. within this i lost someone i valued and saw as a second mother. i hung out with good, but the wrong people. my health was declining and no doctor could express why. i was financially in debt from a dedication years prior. i was hitting rock bottom, yet this made me bloom. i readjusted my life, found new doctors, and made sure to make myself the priority. i truly believe that every life lesson teaches us who we are to prepare us for the obstacles to come. all of this, my whole past was for this moment. to help me find me. so here i am. loving my career choice, driven in college, with a supportive, strong group of individuals, and a wonderful man in my life with every quality and desire i seek. life is wonderful. i can truly say i am happy. the happiest i have ever been. then there’s health.

i suppose we take for granted the temples in which we reside. i have lupus. a condition in which most don’t feel is anything of a worry, until you live with it. it’s exhausting, painful, stressful, and a mystery. your body functions in the lowest extreme and a simple flu can knock you down in more ways then one. my body always hurts. the simple enjoyments of shopping or a trip to disneyland are occupied with high doses of medication so i can simply walk. i wake up achy and the pain is always different or somewhere new. it’s trial and error with medication and diets to help control this active disease. at one point, i was taking an injection of chemo therapy on top of five or six pills of codeine and morphine a day. not to mention, i am now dairy and pork free and take my daily pills to calm my overactive immune system. i can’t work out and running simply just hurts too much. my life has altered and i am doing everything possible to make sure my health comes first, although it is so tough. sometimes i just want that glass of wine or to take that kickboxing class. who knew such simple joys and healthy desires could hurt me so. i sacrifice; i choose when i want to hurt more or less. no one should have to live that way. no one. yet, i do everyday. i look simply normal on the outside, but what people don’t see is critical to me. the inflammation in my joints, the bruises all over my body, constant battles of sickness, food allergies that are affecting my gut and intestines and causing abnormal stomach pain, stiffness, fatigue, being positive for a clotting disorder with a bleeding time that exceeds the normality, and the most recent one: high chance of cervical cancer. i knew with such a condition, i’d struggle with organ complications down the road, but i never thought now.

i can handle liver failure, lung cancer, or anything else along those lines, but not this. this defeats my whole purpose. my only true desire and dedication was for that one moment. that moment to have a child, raise it to be strong, independent, beautiful and loving and watch them grow. to see them have children, take care of my grandchildren and share life long stories with them. i want to make my daughter, son, and grandchildren feel special, hopeful and blessed. i want to spoil them rotten and give them bread to feed the birds. i know there are options and so many children who need me and i’d be honored to do so but it is bitter sweet. i’d never experience child birth, the kicks in my belly, or the food cravings. i want that connection with my baby more then anything and my heart completely breaks.

i’m not going to ask god “why me,” back down or become bitter. i’m going to fight through this with everything in me. this upcoming week will reveal my future and determine the rest of my life and i truly mean my life. i want to be everything for my children that my family was for me. i have so much love to give. to me this is life; finding ourselves, prospering, establishing a new generation and leaving apart of yourself with history. 

i’ve been so blessed to have such a loving, strong family, supportive, kind friends, a strong foundation, a generous, sincere heart, and a positive outlook but God please, don’t take this away from me. not this. 

i can only hope.

in the midst of satisfaction we are faced with unwelcomed plagues.

today is one of the scariest days and no matter how much i pray or how strong i stay, my stomach continues to turn. 

i’ve been through plenty, mentally&physically, but i don’t want to do today. i just want to fast forward through the pain, frustration, and sorrow and grasp the good. 

help me find the good in this, please.

clipper game with my babe @jamesreding ! (Taken with instagram)

#beliefs #better #people #life #love (Taken with instagram)

my pain…

comes from those who have rejected me && decided that i am not as much of a necessity in their lives as they are to me.

yes, rejection exists && everyone is imperfect && i try my best to remember that there will be people out there who don’t accept who i am as an individual && their judgement doesn’t justify who i am. i strive to accept everyone && never hate an individual for who they are. BUT when it’s your own parent, it’s diminishing.

how dare you act as if your life is better then the ones you brought into this world. how dare you judge us and justify your struggles by our actions. how dare you forget that we are your children && love you despite your faults.

never in my life have i been more hurt. i’ve lost loved ones && wonderful relationships (that have helped me grow into who i am today) but never in my life have i felt so rejected && worthless.

my attempt to communicate has been to help mend this relationship && all your actions && outrage have weakened my desire to even try. i am not weak && i refuse to allow your pitfall to destroy the individual i am.

i did not get my get my strength from a woman of failure, where the hell did you go?!

mother’s day was terrible && it was a perfect example of how not to treat my children.

i’m tough competition, but this just might make me weak at my knees :)

(Source: mamamichyy)

and i’m so glad that some days, i get to.

(Source: roger-rabbit, via theesarad)

#throwbackthursday #pops #parents #oldschool #grandparents #love …my pops as a baby. my parents on halloween. my grandparents photo booth 💗 so much!! (Taken with instagram)

djkirkbride:

If I shaved on a regular basis, I think I’d be down with this. And the video is hilarious…

chrisroberson:

Dollar Shave Club.

The gentleman in the ad is Michael Dubin, the founder and CEO of the new start-up. He also made the video himself. And it is awesome.

HAHAHAHA

(via thebdag)

🐭💜🐟 (Taken with instagram)