Matt Joseph Diaz

Welcome to Monday Motivation with Matt Joseph Diaz! Every Monday (obviously) I'll be serving up some motivation to get you through the week.

I promise you, people living with depression are acutely aware that things probably aren’t as bad as they could be.

I've long considered myself a collector of failed relationships. From the girlfriend I asked out during a bar crawl and dated for eight days to the conservative Christian who thought her love was “saving me from a life of debauchery,” I actually gained a little pride from my list of failed love affairs. However, while these relationships were problematic, what made them “failures?”

This week, Matt kicks off our Conversation series on coming out with his own story.

Though it's worth noting that my weight was beginning to become a health concern, I’d never considered my body a “problem” until I heard how doctors talked about it. In the same way a hurt child won’t start to cry until he sees the worry in his parent’s face, I never felt bad about my body until the first time I felt like I was being looked at with disgust. So whatever route you decide to take with the health of a child, make sure it’s treated as a growing opportunity and not a solution to a problem. Your children are not problems — they are the foundation upon which the adults of tomorrow will be built.

Matt breaks down the major differences between unschooling and a traditional classroom setting.

Even on the days you've made a mistake, or hurt someone, or otherwise messed up and caused yourself to doubt whether or not you like you, it's sti

We really want people to like us. It’s just human nature. You may say you don’t care if people like you, and on the surface, that may be true. However, there’s a part of you that understands that openly not caring about being liked immediately makes you more likable — self-assurance is an attractive quality to have.

This week: Find what fuels you, and don't beat yourself up if what's fueling you right now is "surviving."

Taking the time to find clothes that I liked, to dye my hair, and get tattooed — for the first time I was building a place of my own.

When I lost that ability for a while, being too weak and swollen to really put the effort in, it felt like I’d lost a part of myself. It felt like I’d regressed, like I’d gotten to the finish line and was forced back into the race.

This is the trap we fall into when we discuss recovery, emotional development, mental health, or body image: believing there’s a destination.