Sister, Sister

I’ve been trying to figure out how to articulate all the thoughts spinning in my head lately and I think I finally got it. 

I’ve been writing vigorously the last week but nothing has stuck. At first, I wanted to talk about murder hornets then I wanted to talk about protesters, then I wanted to go talk about how hard it was to make a go at becoming recognized for my photography and blog within an atmosphere full of celebrities and women who will write thought provoking blurbs along side pictures of their half naked bodies. There’s a cartoon character somewhere out there that is animating exactly how I feel during this process. 

There. Is. I. Swear. *by the way...I’m a woman trying to make it in the artistic field. Against all odds...I’m trying to follow this passion and make something come of it. In a year, I hope to meet my goals head on. Despite the lack of confidence in doing so. 

Then my friend sent me a message after I sent her a hello and it came to me. 

Today...I’m celebrating me. Putting all other worries aside, beer as liquid courage...going in for the kill. 

Dancing like I always do. Not giving a damn if you watch. Watch and enjoy. I am of value too. 

In my writing, I always incorporate important things I’ve read or heard in my blogs. Quotes that become spectacular discoveries of the verbal frenzy kind. 

They mean everything to me. Words put into motion that always hit at the right time and at the right moment. Words I need to see and convey. 

The glue that puts it all together.

The quote Imma ‘bout to lay down is 💯 and is no exception to the rule. 

This quote is about me....

And, I’m starting this post with it... 

...because...honestly...I need to. 

I saw sisterhood take a nose dive this week and one lone bird came swooping into to diffuse a catty situation. 

A glorious fucking move made by one of my favorite newer people...Alex Høgh Andersen. 

This dude took one for the team and when it happened I silently celebrated in between making sure the rice was doing alright and the chicken was cooking up nicely. 

I kinda did a celebratory jig in my kitchen while all this was transpiring. 

Thankfully, I was far away from the knife I was cutting the onions with. Don’t judge me...I recently injured my wrist and knee falling up the stairs. Yup...you read that right. I fell GOING UP THE STAIRS! Oi! 

So let’s start this chat with my quote....because it has EVERYTHING do to with what Imma ‘bout to lay on most of you.

Specifically speaking in regards to women and of course some men too. Hell, anyone who can find solace in the words I write. Y’all stick around. You can all take away a valuable lesson. I promise. 

Mainly though this post is dedicated to all my ladies. 

Every. Single. One. Of. You. 

Here we go. My thoughts. Get cozy and settled in. I hope you stay until the end. 

Me: *towards friend who took a no makeup selfie. 

Heeeeey, pretty lady. 

Her: 

Miss you. You are one of the best memories of my life. 

Me: *in disbelief. I want to run and hide when anyone throws me a compliment. I’m my own worst critic.*

😂😂😂best or most comedic. 🤦🏻‍♀️ we definitely had some laughs, that’s for sure. We are always doing something crazy. 

Her: 

:) I just remember your truth. Always so genuine. Always made me feel so supported. :) 

Me: 

*pushing lump down my throat trying to convey through social media how that made my soul feel. This was all I could come with. Until now...this post*

Well...dang, lady. What kind and beautiful word’s. I’m speechless. Me, speechless. 

And just like that this post is born. 

How does this relate to Alex Høgh Andersen and why is it so important? 

Because...it all ties into fuckery, shenanigans, being caught up in mean girl mentality, social media numbers, and sister...fucking...hood. And, bro-codes for you dude still hanging out to read this. 

Now...I’m not sure if I caught the whole convo from the get go so I can only go off the pieces I read and the feelings I had afterwards but what I saw was an out of control spiraling that made me nauseous and infuriated. It also became the driving force for this blog entry. 

Like I said I was cooking so the glance I took was a quick one...still it was enough though. 

I get I had other priorities...you know? Like ensuring the chicken didn’t burn or the rice didn’t overcook or the veggies didn’t  come out like mush...’cuz let’s get real...no one like fucking super soft vegetables. 

And I’m not even sure I can retell the whole convo that went down so I’m just going to give you a synopsis of what I saw take place. 

Here goes nothing...

One girl talks shit about another girl. For no other reason expect jealousy and meanness. Some other girls chime in. For no other reason except they can and this is social media...a free for all for all ‘brave’ souls. 

This quickly turns into a hen house. Hens pecking away at each other. Cluck..she’s terrible. Cluck...she has no talent. Cluck...what is she doing with the guy I know will love me forever and ever and ever and always if we ever meet. Cluck, peck, cluck...peck...PUKE! Ladies, I know you dig Alex but I assure you...you are more likely to get hit by an asteroid than to meet this man and fall madly in love. I’m not trying to be rude, just realistic. 

Alex Høgh Andersen comes in like a savage rooster...telling the hen house to essentially ‘fuck off’ in the most diplomatic of ways, might I add. I also think he also alludes that, in fact, the friend these hens are ripping apart had nothing to do with the picture that was posted, just a part of its original posting. 

Something we all do. Friends together...sharing the same memory. Ya know? 

By the way...you like one photo on IG and your whole scroll page is swamped with said person. I’ve learned more about Alex because if fans watch and post every damn movement the man makes. I’m surprised there aren’t a couple of you hiding out in his bathroom waiting to take a screen shot of this shit he just took. This is the only reason I saw this. 

I needed to watch a soap opera, I guess because how he handled it stayed with me. It’s still sitting with me. I’m in utter amazement at how this all went down. A) the dude sees posts and B) the dude’s gonna take care of some fucking nonsense? Who the hell is this? I always thought I was alone in this task at life. 

And yea, I didn’t fucking hesitate to comment as well. I was fucking proud. I’ve said this before but I just discovered we share the same astrological sign and his response would have been exactly like mine. NO ONE MESSES WITH MY FRIENDS OR FAMILY. I will crush someone...you can talk about me all day and all night...I’m used to it...but you will never say an ill word concerning someone I care about. 

Not on my watch. 

Not in front on me. 

Heads will fucking roll. 

He took no shit and it was glorious. 

Ladies, it’s high time you start taking the high road. Talking shit about any other woman, regardless if you know them or not is absolutely ridiculous. 

By the way, Fanny...I absolutely adore your name. It’s my sisters nickname. There’s a song that has both her first name and her nickname ‘Fanny’ in it and every other year I send that very song to her for her birthday. She’s the best sister a gal could ask for. I’m sorry you got a glimpse and the terrible side some women want to show. No one and I mean no one deserves that type of lashing out. 

Ladies...

We should be straightening crowns instead of tossing them off. Jealously, envy or lack of your our own self-worth isn’t a reason to show your ass. By doing so, you just took away your own value as a decent human being and let’s be honest...there is something to be said about the statement, “if you can’t say something nice...keep your damn mouth shut.” I’m not perfect. I have my moments but I assure you none of them include me tearing down another woman just for the hell of it. 

You all know how gorgeous and fucking rad you all are, right? There’s no need for this type of behavior. At. All. 

I mean...you do understand that being a woman is hard as fuck. We have to work harder, we have to balance more, and we have to do it all while looking pretty. We, women, have enough on our plates and adding competition among us, just makes our life harder. We should be supportive. We should look at each other as allies not enemies. 

I’m here to tell you...you need your girls just as much as you need your dudes. I’ve been relentlessly bullied by women who felt threatened by my very existence. Not because of anything I did but because of their own self-esteem issues. Because of this, I had to learn to get tough with my own self. I had to grow a thick skin...and regardless of how tough I have gotten, cuts still make for lasting scars. 

It took well into college to trust women not throwing daggers at me. “Friends” have slept with boyfriends. “Sisters” have stabbed me in the back. “Tribe Members” have forgotten what loyalty means. 

All the while...I stayed authentic and supportive. All the while...my heart breaking in disbelief. 

But I’ll never change this about me. I’ll never turn into one of those women that knocks the crown off. I want you all to thrive exponentially. 

I’ll never talk about you when you leave the table. 

I have better subjects to breach. 

And with every line that has been crossed, I hardened but still never gave up on the notion of sisterhood. If I stood here alone, so be it. It’s better than the other option. 

For years my ratio to guys I called brothers to the ladies I called sisters was slightly off kilter. When I found my tribe, it was an eclectic mix of women that had so much to offer on all fronts. I consider myself blessed with these amazing bitches. 

One has even promised me if I ever get arrested and caught up in a Mexican Prison...she’s got me. 

Ha. I’ve promised the same. 

Granted...I’m hoping neither of us will never meet this demise. Regardless, this is the type of comradery women need. We need to feel safe and loved from our own gender. 

I’ve had brothers come in the way Alex did. Protecting me against the assholes trying to be ruthless. The bitchy girls trying to rip my hair out because it was thick and curly and exotic. Because I was completely and honestly just friends with the guy they liked. 

I’ve never needed nor wanted someone’s other half. I’ve never wanted nor desired to destroy someone to make myself feel better. It’s happened to me and it sucks so I will never do this to someone else. 

Think. Think about the times some person just took your spirit and crushed it. How did it make you feel. Most likely, not good...so why perpetuate this and continue the trend? Be better than that. I know you all can. 

We need to be warriors for one another. 

We have so much up against us. 

Like...literally...we have so much to contend with. Especially now...especially these days. 

Women being women’s worst enemy shouldn’t be part of it. 

At every turn, we are bombarded with these constants: we’re too fat, we’re too old, our hair isn’t perfect, our makeup is flawed, our life is never good enough. Our internal monologue fueled my societal standards and outside judge and juries. 

Enough is enough. Are you exhausted by it too? 

We have babies, work jobs, take care of homes, and do it all in 24 hours, 365 days a year. 

We have to make sure we’re sexy but not too sexy. 

We have to make sure our ages keep. 

Our bodies stay solid...our minds sharp. 

We have to be smart but not too smart. 

We have to be capably but not too capable that we get dubbed cat ladies....

....and we do it all while getting harsh words thrown in our direction by our own gender. 

What the fuck! Stop. Stop it right now. 

I’ve worn those shoes. I acted a fool once when I was young and stupid and catty as well. 

In high school. Many moons ago. 

You want to know what happened? 

I was almost got pinned with a harassment and stalking charge. 

True Story From My Past: 

In high school I was a cheerleader. A fellow cheerleader didn’t like who I thought at the time was her best friend. She wrote me a note asking my thoughts about said friend. I replied with some lame gossipy bullshit response. Move ahead to prom and we all had dates except said fellow cheerleader. This started a chain of events that lasted two years. The fellow cheerleader’s mom was mad that her daughter didn’t have a date and decided to stalk and harass a bunch of us. Desperately trying to blame me in process because she found my note to her daughter. The only thing that saved my ass was a mysterious ransom note like letter that came through the mail addressed to my full name. 

At the time...I used a nickname. I still use my nickname but back then this was the distinguishing factor of someone who didn’t know me vs. someone who did. 

For two years this mom followed me. I received death threats and she seemed to constantly pounce somehow when the private investigators weren’t watching her. I literally had private investigators following me in the shadows following her in the shadows following me in the shadows. It was game of cat and mouse: She knew where I lived, where I worked, where I hung out. I spent two years looking over my shoulder. Never noticing her...yet she knew everything about me and my movements. This is terrifying. 

Eventually she was caught and I finally got to see who she was. She looked normal...for a woman I was expecting to be a disheveled mess of a human being...foaming at the mouth. Wrecked. Haggard. No. She was none of that. She was pristine, well-kept...put together and rich. 

And I could HAVE AVOIDED IT ALL by simply dismissing the note all together. 

This is the one of those life defining moments of my past I would change in a heartbeat. This. Is. The. Only. One. 

I spent two years fearing every movement....because of an evil action I made and a bored, housewife rolling with it. 

I was 16 when that all started and I was 18 when it finally ended. I’ve never been that asshole since. 

I can’t make this shit up! 

Now...if I talk shit, rest assured it’s not through writing. I make damn sure that shit gets said out in the open. Lesson learned. 

If I don’t have the balls to say what I do think to someone in person, then I’m not saying it at all. What I write is calculated and thought over. It goes through a cycle of edits. And I will be real with you 💯...I have had to say some things I write in fucking person. It didn’t always end pretty but I pride myself on being that one person that WON’T TALK ABOUT ANYONE BEHIND THEIR BACK. 

Take it or leave it. At least I won’t be holding onto the that monkey on my back. I’m real as most of them come and it’s taken me crazy to get here. 

Another quote that resonates: 

“I’d rather be hated for who I am than loved for who I am not.” 

-Kurt Cobain

Ladies and gentlemen...this. ☝🏼☝🏼☝🏼☝🏼

Be original. 

You know...I used to have girls talk shit to me about me at every turn. I was teased for being  ‘poor’ and ‘weird’ because I was poor...and weird...most of my adolescent years. When I started making something for myself, the critics came full throttle still. Damned if you and damned if you don’t...a weeding out process, regardless. I don’t walk to the beat of everyone’s drum and I adore this about myself...and it’s taken years to to appreciate that. 

Those same girls that made fun of me showed up weeks later looking like carbon copies of the things they bashed. On me. 

Years I wondered why I only had the few gal pals I did? 

Years I tried to wrap my head around why some bitches be like. Years it’s taken to accept that some bitches will be like...what!!! 

Me now is far different than the me back then. 

I’ve become one with myself. Loving what I am and who I am. Understanding and differentiating that’s it not me, just some asshole trying to break my stride. 

Hey. 

Here’s one for you. 

I’m fucking pretty. 

So pretty. 

I love my green eyes. 

I love my curly wild hair that’s now more tame living in a place with zero humidity. 

I love my mostly sun kissed skin. 

I love having perky boobs and an ass I work on everyday. 

I love my smile...even though it usually looks scared in pictures without sunglasses. 

I love my height at 5’6. 

I love that I’m smart, funny and sarcastic. 

I love that I enjoy conversations. 

I love that I’m complicated. 

I love that I’m stubborn. 

I love that I’m fucking loyal. 

I hate the “expression lines” on my forehead. 

I hate that my arms jiggle when I exaggerate a wave. 

I hate my belly but mostly around PMS. 

In fact, I hate everything around, on, and during PMS. Except for chocolate and music.

I hate that I am a hairy Greek woman and if I don’t have the right razor...shit sucks. 

I hate that I’m not as artistic or as smart or as amazing as someone who can take fabulous photographs and write mind blowing articles. 

Would you like me to continue down this self-deprecating road...or do you enjoy the boasting, self-assured side? I certainly prefer the prior over the latter. I wanna celebrate the good, the bad, the ugly. It’s what makes me human. I want to hear about all the things you love about yourselves....because you should be celebrating your amazing selves too. And you want to know what the best part about that is? When you start to recognize your own value, you see value in others. You dismiss the jealous, wicked, mean girl behavior. 

Why act like a shit? 

Why make someone feel small and insignificant? 

Why terrorize someone with ugly behavior? 

Surely, this doesn’t and will never make you feel better about yourself? 

I mean, it can’t? Can it? 

There’s too much going on in the world today for everyone to be so damn bitter and spiteful and down right shitty to one another. 

At some point, we all have to be held accountable. 

Mine accountability came at 16. 

Y’all I’m about to be 40. Monday, the 18th...I turn 40...and I tell you this right now, I would never trade my age for that younger insecure girl for this woman right here. It didn’t take years to be a good person, it took just one lesson that’s lasted a lifetime. 

That one lesson changed my whole trajectory. 

That note. 

That one and only time I’ve been a judgy cunt to another female for no other reason other than just to be a DUMB JUDGY CUNT. 

I know we all look at social media as a way to express free flowing thoughts...as it should be..but when all your thoughts sound like you need some food or a nap or a hug or even a good shag, you come off as a twat. 

FYI this goes for men too. Like I said, boys...you need to hear this too: 

Oh yes, men can be giant douches too. And quite frankly some of you guys are ten times worse than any evil woman I have come across. Y’all gossip too. We get called whores and sluts and no talent gold diggers by you too. Why? It doesn’t make any sense? Be fucking decent. For the love of God, be fucking decent. 

I had more brothers than sisters, remember? I’ve seen it on both sides...it’s just more abundant among the female population. You’re not off the hook...and those of you that don’t behave this way...correct your brother and sister behavior. Be the advocate. 

By now, if you’ve read through all this and aren’t in either category, good on you! 

Good On Fucking You! 

I’m giving you every fucking cyber hug I can. The world needs more of us. The world needs more women and men that will stand up and say..”Yo, Calm. It. The. Fuck. Down.” 

The world needs more humans ready to pounce on someone being a bully just for kicks. 

“LISTEN TOUGH GUY...I dare you to say one more word. JUST FUCKING ONE!”  

Not gonna lie...I seriously had this convo after someone called my friend a bitch. 

Hashtag Keyboard Warrior. 

Seriously. 

Aren’t you exhausted from beating yourself up? Aren’t you tired from going to battle with someone you do or don’t know? I mean, when and where does it end? 

Life is too short for all these dumb antics. 

Live life. 

Be happy. 

Be kind and be badass. 

Sisters...rally. 

Brothers..band with us. 

Humans...stop acting foolish and learn. 

We aren’t each other’s enemy. 

We all have different paths and things to accomplish...important things we can all bring to the table for the greater good. Go out and find that greater good. It’s far better than the alternative. 

Everyday I fight with myself that I should take down my photos...I should stop writing. 

Every time I hit post, I go into panic mode. 

What will the critics thinks? 

But the thing is LIFE is full of critics....so don’t be one. Don’t be that twit, I once was. Celebrate yourselves and others. 

Don’t be the critic to yourself or other people. 

Create...don’t fucking hate. 

Shine brightly so others see that light. It could be the one saving grace for someone in a pit of darkness and despair. 

Thank you Alex...I saw you and it meant everything. Ladies, I see you too...keep being badass, beautiful beings...go easy on yourselves and remember go easy on other people. We’re all just trying to survive and thrive in this chaotic world. 

When we support each other, beautiful things occur.