Not Family

Sometimes your family makes you mad. The little comments about your relationship. Joking about kissing and how kissing leads to babies. Showing too much skin. Don't want her to be a slut. They don't say it, but that's what they mean. Then there's the other ones. Not even realizing she was there. Because she said she has to work. But there she is. Her asking for help with scheduling something and told she needs to figure it out herself. As if she hasn't tried. She's stressed. But obviously she can't be. She's seventeen! No seventeen year old is stressed, please. What is there for her to be stressed about? Every little comment. Belittling her existence. As if she isn't anxious. Or depressed. And constantly feeling stretched thin. Like she never has any time. She plasters on a smile. It's all fake. She cries herself to sleep. You don't realize your words have such an affect on her but they do. They cut into her skin and leave scars. Claiming she doesn't appreciate your cooking because she doesn't like the specific dish you made. Saying she has to figure things out herself when she's practically begging for help. She's crying for help. She can't do it on her own. You're her family, you are supposed to be her support system for the tower she's creating of her life. But instead you just keep tearing it down, taking brick by brick with every comment. She is struggling to do it on her own. You stand there and take bricks saying, can't you just do it by yourself? With your full towers, almost complete. You have help from your family even still and you are so called adults. But you claim you did it all on your own. When will you stop lying? She is falling in a pit and can't focus on any bloody thing because she thinks you don't care. Your words are soothing and claim care but the undertones are knives on her skin. She has no escape. She can't turn to you. Not when you judge her and claim to want the best for her. You have your own agenda. You have your own thoughts for who you want her to be. And you're not helping. She feels like she has no one to turn to.

She is me. 

I am lost and my family doesn't feel like my family anymore. 

My Love

I met my love at summer camp. We're only teenagers now and were then but the camp connection was there. I spent a week with him and he was very much my camp crush, and I was his. When he asked me out the day after camp ended, I couldn't help but say yes. After seven almost eight months now, we're happier than ever. Five months passed from our first date and he gave me a promise ring. A promise to love each other forever. It may seem so early for so young, such a big promise to uphold, but we feel committed to one another so strongly. We may live fifty two kilometers apart but that doesn't set any limits on our love for each other. I am so happy to call him my boyfriend. I cannot wait and hope to spend years with him. He is my true love, my soul mate. I love him so much.

starting a new blog?

I am honestly not even sure what to call this new blog. I've had my previous one for four years now. Not saying my posting habits were ideal but it was something. I just don't like what I've branded it as. It's not a book blog anymore and I don't feel passionate enough to keep that up. I need a blog where I can post whatever I want: a series of photographs from a trip with small captions, a full on rant, an observation, a recount of a day or trip, an essay, poems, even more Hamilton. Just a place where I can post what I want, when i want, and keep with my goal from the beginning of the year (posting twice a month). Almost like a journal. That's what this is.

Welcome to my Junky Journal.

Nadine