We are all flawed. So lean into yourself — glory in your strengths, accept your weaknesses, realize that mistakes you’ve made are not dead-ends. Rather, they’ve led you to the beautiful person you are becoming.
I’ve realized that there is beauty in me, in my face, in the way I smile easily and laugh loudly... (Image: Instagram/ karisselizabeth)
Selfies are one of the easiest indicators of my mental health.
My exuberance over these freshly-plucked perennials reminds me that the little things truly are the big things.
Of all the items that make up my workspace, it’s a picture of me holding a bunch of dandelions that never fails to put a smile in my heart. In this May 1979 picture, I carry an expression that’s nothing short of being as pleased as punch.
This idea that I need to be perfect all of the time, at everything I do, is something contained deep within my psyche.
I’ve said I was “good,” “fine,” or “doing well” after crying for hours, lying in bed all day with no motivation, and even experiencing suicidal ideation. My worst days are when the temptation to mask my pain with a smile is the strongest.
When I’m in the company of family, my strongly held beliefs about positive body image, my carefully honed confidence that I am more than numbers on a scale, my uncompromising rebellion against the patriarchy and its arbitrary rules for women’s sexuality, crumbles into a fine dust that blows away with one heavy sigh.
By the end of the first haunted house rehearsal, I knew the job would truly test my abilities to carry my body and voice well.
Before I became a haunted house performer, I thought having my face touched was one of the creepiest things imaginable. But it wasn't the eerie set music or the beheaded baby dolls that changed my definition of scary. It was what went on in the green room.
As with road trips, you may run into detours, potholes, and traffic; sometimes you just need to take a break to refuel. Image: Thinkstock.
Have you ever been on a seemingly endless road trip and asked yourself: "Am I there yet?" ...only to realize that your GPS says you have about eight more hours before your reach your destination? At that point, you probably felt like you were never going to reach the end of your journey, but even though you couldn't see the end point, you still kept going.
Now that I’ve turned 30 (and wear caftans) I’m done reading vapid click-bait offering prosaic advice. This is not one of those articles.
I've said before that I accept myself as I am, even though there are things I'd love to change about my body. And that's true. But it's not like I woke up one day and thought, “Yep, I'm great. My body is great. Life is great. Everything is great.”