March 28th, 2017
I have had many crushes over the years. My first crush was pretty bad. Not that I had it bad (I did, but that's not the point), I mean my nine year old self had horrible taste in guys. He had the long bangs that I found so attractive for some reason beyond me. He was older than me by a couple of year, but no one's attracted to a nine year old. He spoke low and deep, and now that I think about it, he probably sounded dumb in the way he was trying to seem masculine in front of the other girls.
I was crazy about him and I have no idea why. I wrote his name on my skin all the time with a sharpie, I would try to wear cute clothes whenever I went to church in hopes he would be there (he never was), and I said the stupidest things in front of him the few days that I knew him.
Let me tell you an embarrassing story. So we were in the other building of the church, sitting at a table together; the only reason we were at the same table was because I hung around my sister who hung around our cousin who my crush also hung around. Yeah . . . Anyway, they were just talking and I was admiring his face that I now know was not really all that pretty. My sister and cousin were talking about how this one other girl had a crush on him and he had noticed it. Me, being the moron that I was said exactly this:
"A lot of girls have a crush on you. And one of them likes your hair." Then I proceeded to sink down in my chair with what I assume was a love struck smile.
Why, younger Autumn? Why on Earth would you say that? Did you think that was subtle or something? Did you think you were wooing him with your flirting skills?
Ugh, I cringe every time I think about. It gets worse though, believe me. Another time when he was actually at church, we were in the Nursery with some other people and I showed him a necklace I had recently gotten that had an N on it. I told him the N stood for his name. I told him that! I'm beginning to wonder if I just didn't care about being subtle at all. Later that day I accidentally threw a heavy, plastic, egg shaped toy at his crotch.
Yup, I was wooing him alright.
I still wonder why I ever had a crush on him.
My second crush was this really bratty boy who cried a lot. We were considered cousins, but it was distant so I didn't consider us actually related. How that one ended was when he stopped hanging out with me after he read my diary about my crush on him. It was awful. And I was so dramatic about it, too. I had this whole speech planned out to apologize for having feelings I couldn't control blah blah blah.
After that I just had bad crushes on boys I met at summer camp. My taste in guys got better as I went on, but then I made the mistake of secret dating one when I was twelve, thinking he was the one and we just had to persevere. I had this whole fantasy of growing up and getting married and having a big family with him.
Problem #1: WE WERE 12
Now, I'm not saying you can't date someone at a young age and end up having a future with them. One of my dance teachers got married to a boy she's liked and been with since she was 13. It just didn't work for me because I was a moron who thought I had everything figured out and I knew what love was.
Problem #2: He didn't want a big family. He wanted two, maybe three kids. I want five. I want lots of kids.
Problem #3: It felt wrong to be with someone without my parents knowledge and approval.
I'm a daddy's girl. Always have and always will be. I want a man who can get to know him and get my dad's blessing. When my future husband wants to propose to me, I want him to ask my dad. I want his approval, and it felt wrong to be going against what my dad has always told me. I didn't like disobeying him and my little secret boyfriend would always throw a fit whenever I suggested we wait (I ended up breaking the boy's heart, so he says, so it doesn't matter now. I realize that he was and still is really annoying and has little respect for girls.)
Problem #3: He didn't and still doesn't like to read.
THAT is a deal breaker for me. I'm a writer. I'm going to be a published author. That's going to be my career and life. He complained every time I sent him something to read. I'm not going to put up with that when it's something I'm passionate about. My sister, who is engaged to her boyfriend she's been with for three years, said that when you love someone, you love what they love. He didn't love what I loved and I didn't love what he loved. We were fooling ourselves with the idea of love.
Problem #4: We just didn't match very well
He got emotional and I got fed up. He complained and I complained about his complaining. I liked being alone when he wanted to be with him, and he wanted to be alone when I wanted to be with him. It just didn't work. It probably would've if we would have just waited until we were more mature and ready to maintain a healthy relationship. We were idiots and that not only ruined our chances of being together in the future, but it hinders any friendship we could've had.
My taste in guys has gotten better since I've matured and gotten to know and discover myself. I know what I want now and what kind of person I want to spend my life with. I don't really worry about boys much anymore because God told me through someone else not to; He's preparing someone for me and I have to be patient.
So that was the end of all my left and right, back and forth crushing. It doesn't work and I'm not going to convince myself that I know better than God (I most definitely do not. It is only because of Him that I'm okay now).
So there's someone out there for me. I don't need to search him out, I'm not desperate to find him, because God will bring us together when the time is right. I trust Him, so I'm waiting. Patiently and happily. I'm content with my single status.
Showing posts with label teenage girl. Show all posts
Showing posts with label teenage girl. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 28, 2017
Monday, March 13, 2017
Maybe Someday . . .
March 13th, 2017
I have this really bad habit of piling a bunch of things on top of myself and wondering why I'm so stressed. Some things I don't even have to do, like certain projects I have for fanfiction and potential books I plan to write in the future. Those things I don't necessarily have to do, but because they are important to me and I treat them like they're going to save someone's life, I take it upon myself and add it to that long list.
Now, the most stressful things are the one I do have to do. Those little things called responsibilities and the other crap I agree to do. My homeschool group put together a team of people to create a yearbook. It was optional, my mom didn't make me do it, but because I wanted to go to this fancy school of arts at the time, I figured it would give me a better chance of getting in and it could be fun. Well, I changed my mind about going to that school because it decided that it wouldn't benefit me as the other things in my life would (like dance and other things that would come up in the future that I would not be able to do if I went to a school that let their students out at 5pm). And, unsurprisingly, working on the yearbook is not fun. I repeat: It. Is. Not. Fun.
I'm only working on two pages, the page about co-op and about the yearbook committee. It wouldn't be that big of a deal if the lady who put the team together would help us and explain what exactly she wants in it. I'm a clueless little homeschooler! I don't do things like that, I don't have experience. What is she trying to get out of us when she should know that the majority of the people on the team don't have clue on how to properly do it. I could figure it out, yes, but I do very poorly when I'm left to my own devices on something I have never done before.
So I have to do that mixed with the things I feel would grow me as a writer, and recently the youth group worship team leader reached out to me and asked if I was interested in becoming a student leader. Now this I am ecstatic about! To do something for God that would not only benefit myself, but the church and people God brings into the church. I love that I have been given the opportunity, but just like with the year book committee, I don't know what to do.
Nicole, the worship team leader, has given me many options and has pretty much given me free reign on what I want to do or learn. I want to write, of course, so I told her that. She asked if I could write songs. I said I haven't in a long time, but I could try. If God wants me to be her lyricist, then I can do it. But that's just about all there is to say. She invited me to sit in on a worship rehearsal, I went, and I didn't get much out of it aside from the confirmation that I am not needed to learn an instrument (and the one instrument I want to learn –piano– is the one the two other girls Nicole asked to step up are very familiar with). I haven't gotten any word from Nicole, so more than it being another thing that I piled on top of myself, I'm nervous.
I really want to do something and lead someone in some way, but as of right now, I don't know how. That's something for me to pray on though. I shouldn't worry about it, but hey, I'm human. Humans are really good at worrying about everything despite the fact that worrying does absolutely nothing to help.
I should probably text Nicole and ask if she wants to meet up and talk about what I could do, or I could ask if I could come on practice Tuesday so we can talk, but oh! That's right! For the next month I'm going to busy doing this other thing I agreed to.
This one doesn't upset me, but it's a lot like dance. My older sister asked me if I wanted to join this temporary group with her and one other person to learn karate for this teen talent competition. We're going to learning chunks of martial arts and sloooowly do them to a version of Amazing Grace. It's fun, I'm learning how to properly punch people, and it's a great way to put myself out there and really do something for once. I really like it and I'm so excited I'm getting to do this. I also get to call our teacher "Sensei" (to which he is unamused, but I finally get to use it without being called a weeb, dang it!).
It's a lot like dance, meaning I have to practice relentlessly along with relentless practice of actual dance. And dance has gotten a lot harder since I graduated into the Freshmen class.
So I go over to spend three days with my grandparents every week in order to make practice while worrying about all this other stuff I have to do or I feel I have to do. Like co-leading a Miraculous Ladybug blog on Miraculous Amino and reading books for school and catching up in math and just sitting and wondering, "Why am I doing all of this?"
I was going to end this post right there, but I came to a conclusion.
I have spent my whole life subconsciously thinking that I am only worth something if I do something. If I do something that someone else can confirm is actually significant to more than just me, then I've done something to give me worth. I hate doing so many things and stressing myself out, but if I don't, I feel like I am a waste of space. Like I'm just stealing the air from other people when I could be something more than a lump of tissue and blood and organs covered in skin. Like simply existing and being who I am isn't enough to be important to somebody ― anybody.
That's pretty harsh thinking, but I think It's true that I feel that way in some corner of my brain where everything is dark and dreary. I feel like some lazy glutton if I don't do anything. I feel like I'm doing something wrong when I'm spending time for my own relaxation a lot of times, so it makes sense that in order to feel important I take the responsibility of doing a bunch of crap even they don't have some long term impact or I don't really care about them. A lot of times I still do nothing, I still procrastinate, but maybe it's just the thought of I have a bunch of things to do that I will eventually do that comforts me.
None of this is for certain, I'm psychoanalyzing myself. But it's plausible. It makes a lot of sense, but if all that is true that I am taking the responsibility of doing all of these different things, how can I do them without their sole purpose of being to make me feel like I have worth? How can I not agree to do a bunch of things that stress me out and still like I have some significance?
I might have an answer someday, but I'll work on that when I finish all that I have to do right now.
I have this really bad habit of piling a bunch of things on top of myself and wondering why I'm so stressed. Some things I don't even have to do, like certain projects I have for fanfiction and potential books I plan to write in the future. Those things I don't necessarily have to do, but because they are important to me and I treat them like they're going to save someone's life, I take it upon myself and add it to that long list.
Now, the most stressful things are the one I do have to do. Those little things called responsibilities and the other crap I agree to do. My homeschool group put together a team of people to create a yearbook. It was optional, my mom didn't make me do it, but because I wanted to go to this fancy school of arts at the time, I figured it would give me a better chance of getting in and it could be fun. Well, I changed my mind about going to that school because it decided that it wouldn't benefit me as the other things in my life would (like dance and other things that would come up in the future that I would not be able to do if I went to a school that let their students out at 5pm). And, unsurprisingly, working on the yearbook is not fun. I repeat: It. Is. Not. Fun.
I'm only working on two pages, the page about co-op and about the yearbook committee. It wouldn't be that big of a deal if the lady who put the team together would help us and explain what exactly she wants in it. I'm a clueless little homeschooler! I don't do things like that, I don't have experience. What is she trying to get out of us when she should know that the majority of the people on the team don't have clue on how to properly do it. I could figure it out, yes, but I do very poorly when I'm left to my own devices on something I have never done before.
So I have to do that mixed with the things I feel would grow me as a writer, and recently the youth group worship team leader reached out to me and asked if I was interested in becoming a student leader. Now this I am ecstatic about! To do something for God that would not only benefit myself, but the church and people God brings into the church. I love that I have been given the opportunity, but just like with the year book committee, I don't know what to do.
Nicole, the worship team leader, has given me many options and has pretty much given me free reign on what I want to do or learn. I want to write, of course, so I told her that. She asked if I could write songs. I said I haven't in a long time, but I could try. If God wants me to be her lyricist, then I can do it. But that's just about all there is to say. She invited me to sit in on a worship rehearsal, I went, and I didn't get much out of it aside from the confirmation that I am not needed to learn an instrument (and the one instrument I want to learn –piano– is the one the two other girls Nicole asked to step up are very familiar with). I haven't gotten any word from Nicole, so more than it being another thing that I piled on top of myself, I'm nervous.
I really want to do something and lead someone in some way, but as of right now, I don't know how. That's something for me to pray on though. I shouldn't worry about it, but hey, I'm human. Humans are really good at worrying about everything despite the fact that worrying does absolutely nothing to help.
I should probably text Nicole and ask if she wants to meet up and talk about what I could do, or I could ask if I could come on practice Tuesday so we can talk, but oh! That's right! For the next month I'm going to busy doing this other thing I agreed to.
This one doesn't upset me, but it's a lot like dance. My older sister asked me if I wanted to join this temporary group with her and one other person to learn karate for this teen talent competition. We're going to learning chunks of martial arts and sloooowly do them to a version of Amazing Grace. It's fun, I'm learning how to properly punch people, and it's a great way to put myself out there and really do something for once. I really like it and I'm so excited I'm getting to do this. I also get to call our teacher "Sensei" (to which he is unamused, but I finally get to use it without being called a weeb, dang it!).
It's a lot like dance, meaning I have to practice relentlessly along with relentless practice of actual dance. And dance has gotten a lot harder since I graduated into the Freshmen class.
So I go over to spend three days with my grandparents every week in order to make practice while worrying about all this other stuff I have to do or I feel I have to do. Like co-leading a Miraculous Ladybug blog on Miraculous Amino and reading books for school and catching up in math and just sitting and wondering, "Why am I doing all of this?"
I was going to end this post right there, but I came to a conclusion.
I have spent my whole life subconsciously thinking that I am only worth something if I do something. If I do something that someone else can confirm is actually significant to more than just me, then I've done something to give me worth. I hate doing so many things and stressing myself out, but if I don't, I feel like I am a waste of space. Like I'm just stealing the air from other people when I could be something more than a lump of tissue and blood and organs covered in skin. Like simply existing and being who I am isn't enough to be important to somebody ― anybody.
That's pretty harsh thinking, but I think It's true that I feel that way in some corner of my brain where everything is dark and dreary. I feel like some lazy glutton if I don't do anything. I feel like I'm doing something wrong when I'm spending time for my own relaxation a lot of times, so it makes sense that in order to feel important I take the responsibility of doing a bunch of crap even they don't have some long term impact or I don't really care about them. A lot of times I still do nothing, I still procrastinate, but maybe it's just the thought of I have a bunch of things to do that I will eventually do that comforts me.
None of this is for certain, I'm psychoanalyzing myself. But it's plausible. It makes a lot of sense, but if all that is true that I am taking the responsibility of doing all of these different things, how can I do them without their sole purpose of being to make me feel like I have worth? How can I not agree to do a bunch of things that stress me out and still like I have some significance?
I might have an answer someday, but I'll work on that when I finish all that I have to do right now.
Friday, January 6, 2017
My Favorite Season
January 6th, 2017.
Everyone has a favorite season, a time of year that they enjoy the most. For some it's Spring because of the pastel colors of growing flowers and leaves, and how by each day you can feeling it getting warmer. For others it's Summer because of all the fun things you can do, like going to the beach or a water park (because people usually associate Summer with water games). Everybody loves Fall for obvious reasons. Who doesn't like Fall?
I love snuggling up under my fuzzy penguin blanket and drinking hot beverages all the way from coffee to apple cider. I love wearing big, floppy sweaters with a pair of my patterned leggings and combat boots, and when I'm not wearing a sweater, I'm wearing my favorite black hoodie I wore at last year's recital for my "Dance Thieves" routine (it was a mix of a bunch of different songs like Pink Panther and Smooth Criminal). I can do these things any time of the year if I honestly wanted to, but there's only one season that I can without sweating or getting strange looks.
I love Winter, which is ironic because I can't stand the cold. I like everything else about it that involves being warm and cozy, and looking cute while being warm and cozy, but cold isn't something I can do. It's rare that we get really cold weather down here in Mississippi, but my teeth also literally chatter at 50 degrees. Not only can I not handle it, but I get cold very easily (I'm always the one in my family in the car complaining about it being too cold after five minutes when the AC is on full blast in the middle of July). I hate the cold, but I love Winter.
One thing that sucks about it actually getting really cold in the South is that we aren't prepared for it. The electricity goes out if there's ice on the power lines and things get cancelled because of ice on the road. We often struggle to find warm enough clothes in our closets when it starts to get cold, but even if we have the right clothing, we don't always wear them. You never know what to expect; it could be in the 30s one day and in the 80s the next. It was pretty warm outside last Christmas, and the year before that we broke the record for the hottest Christmas in Mississippi in some amount of years. If you're wearing a sweater on a Sunday morning, you have to make sure to wear something under it because it starts to get hot later in the day. I'm not even talking about in the beginning, but in the middle of December and January. I actually heard my younger sister in the other room freaking out about the temperatures. "The low should not be nineteen!" she said.
It is a bit colder than I would prefer, but I'm cuddling with my cat in a toasty room while under my penguin blanket. It's not really bothering me right now. No matter how cold it gets and no matter how jacked up Mississippi weather can be, I love Winter. I just wish I could bring my penguin blanket everywhere I go. I would much warmer and quite content, but that's not acceptable in public unless I'm a three year old, unfortunately.
Everyone has a favorite season, a time of year that they enjoy the most. For some it's Spring because of the pastel colors of growing flowers and leaves, and how by each day you can feeling it getting warmer. For others it's Summer because of all the fun things you can do, like going to the beach or a water park (because people usually associate Summer with water games). Everybody loves Fall for obvious reasons. Who doesn't like Fall?
I love snuggling up under my fuzzy penguin blanket and drinking hot beverages all the way from coffee to apple cider. I love wearing big, floppy sweaters with a pair of my patterned leggings and combat boots, and when I'm not wearing a sweater, I'm wearing my favorite black hoodie I wore at last year's recital for my "Dance Thieves" routine (it was a mix of a bunch of different songs like Pink Panther and Smooth Criminal). I can do these things any time of the year if I honestly wanted to, but there's only one season that I can without sweating or getting strange looks.
I love Winter, which is ironic because I can't stand the cold. I like everything else about it that involves being warm and cozy, and looking cute while being warm and cozy, but cold isn't something I can do. It's rare that we get really cold weather down here in Mississippi, but my teeth also literally chatter at 50 degrees. Not only can I not handle it, but I get cold very easily (I'm always the one in my family in the car complaining about it being too cold after five minutes when the AC is on full blast in the middle of July). I hate the cold, but I love Winter.
One thing that sucks about it actually getting really cold in the South is that we aren't prepared for it. The electricity goes out if there's ice on the power lines and things get cancelled because of ice on the road. We often struggle to find warm enough clothes in our closets when it starts to get cold, but even if we have the right clothing, we don't always wear them. You never know what to expect; it could be in the 30s one day and in the 80s the next. It was pretty warm outside last Christmas, and the year before that we broke the record for the hottest Christmas in Mississippi in some amount of years. If you're wearing a sweater on a Sunday morning, you have to make sure to wear something under it because it starts to get hot later in the day. I'm not even talking about in the beginning, but in the middle of December and January. I actually heard my younger sister in the other room freaking out about the temperatures. "The low should not be nineteen!" she said.
It is a bit colder than I would prefer, but I'm cuddling with my cat in a toasty room while under my penguin blanket. It's not really bothering me right now. No matter how cold it gets and no matter how jacked up Mississippi weather can be, I love Winter. I just wish I could bring my penguin blanket everywhere I go. I would much warmer and quite content, but that's not acceptable in public unless I'm a three year old, unfortunately.
Thursday, January 5, 2017
A Little Habit of Mine
January 5th, 2017.
I have many little habits that a lot of people don't know about. It's not that I'm hiding them or anything, but they're the kind of habits that are so insignificant and small that either no one notices them or they just don't come up in everyday conversation. I'll probably speak more about these habits in the future, but right now I'm talking about one in particular that is actually pretty common.
I write on myself. It's more than just little doodles and shapes here and there though, I couldn't draw if my life depended on it. I like to write things to remember on myself. Paper can get crumpled and lost and ripped and so many other things, but it's hard to forget you have something you wanted to remember when it's in bold letters on your forearm. Right now I actually have a sentence on my arm from last Wednesday when my youth pastor was praying. It says, "If it was something I could do on my own, you would not have sent your son." She's kind of long-winded, but she speaks with so much strength and power that I like it more than anything. She is such an inspiration to me. I long to be the kind of woman she is. Her words and messages are so encouraging. I love writing down the things she says.
I also like to write other reminders on my skin. For example:
I have many little habits that a lot of people don't know about. It's not that I'm hiding them or anything, but they're the kind of habits that are so insignificant and small that either no one notices them or they just don't come up in everyday conversation. I'll probably speak more about these habits in the future, but right now I'm talking about one in particular that is actually pretty common.
I write on myself. It's more than just little doodles and shapes here and there though, I couldn't draw if my life depended on it. I like to write things to remember on myself. Paper can get crumpled and lost and ripped and so many other things, but it's hard to forget you have something you wanted to remember when it's in bold letters on your forearm. Right now I actually have a sentence on my arm from last Wednesday when my youth pastor was praying. It says, "If it was something I could do on my own, you would not have sent your son." She's kind of long-winded, but she speaks with so much strength and power that I like it more than anything. She is such an inspiration to me. I long to be the kind of woman she is. Her words and messages are so encouraging. I love writing down the things she says.
I also like to write other reminders on my skin. For example:
I wrote this Wednesday, too. My youth pastor and her husband will be transition to become missionaries with a sports ministry, so they're stepping down from being youth pastors. It's an amazing opportunity for them to not only grow as Christians, but spread the gospel. And I am ecstatic for them, I truly am, but it still hurts to see them go. They have done so much for me and they are very close to me. I cannot describe the way they have poured into my life and helped me change for the better, the way they have encouraged me to be the best person I can be and follow Christ without making it all about the dos and don'ts. They announced how and why they're leaving Sunday and I, of course, bawled my eyes out in the bathroom after letting a few tears slip out in the sanctuary. They were telling the youth group again Wednesday for anybody who wasn't there Sunday and I could feel myself starting to tear up again. I hate crying. No- I like crying when I'm by myself and I can let it out in peace, but I hate crying in public where people can see me. I didn't want to cry, so I took the pen I had and wrote "Don't cry". The only reason I took a picture of it was because after I wrote it I thought, "Oh! This would make a cool picture." and I posted it on Instagram XD
I also write things like "Calm down" and "Breathe" whenever I have to speak in front of even a handful of people. I write reminders that I'm doing okay and I don't sound stupid and that even if I mess up, no one will remember in a couple of days. I always do this when I'm feeling anxious or upset. I think it helps me stay calm and not freak out. Most of my habits are nervous ones, like I fiddle with my hair and sleeves or I'll sometimes count up to distract myself until I can calm down (last time I did that I counted to 307). I do all of these small things that little to nobody knows about, and I can't help but find them as the tiny things that help make up of who I am. It may be silly to think that, but I'm a very silly person with silly ideas.
I also write my otps on my skin, but I'm pretty sure every fangirl does.
Fun Fact: The only thing I can do well with my hands is playing video games.
Nope, not writing. You can probably tell that my hand writing isn't the best, and I don't even type on a keyboard correctly. I love writing and taking notes, but unless it's on my laptop, it doesn't look pretty.
My Calm Within My Chaos
January 5th, 2017.
I would like to think that I am a straightforward, simple kind of person. I would like to think that I am uncomplicated and able to be understood clearly. I would like to think that I am an easy, enjoyable person to be around. I can like to think that all day long, but the truth of the matter is that I am anything but what I would like to think that I am. I am a complicated, beat-around-the-bush, anything but understandable person, and that's not just cause I'm a teenager. I'm a difficult person, but that's okay, because we're all difficult. As difficult people, we like the things that are different from ourselves, kinda like the old saying "opposites attract". Though when people say that they're usually talking about other people, but I'm talking about interests and the way we spend out time. I might as well be unable to be straightforward. Of course I want to be, but insecurities and anxiety often stops me from being straightforward about hard conversations and things I need to do, and I guess that's why I love cartoons so much.
Most people my age like to watch shows like Pretty Little Liars and Vampire Diaries, and there's nothing wrong with that! I'm not dissing on the shows people like that I've never shown an interest in, it's just not me. I adore cartoons because they're cute and have so many lessons and reminders to be a better person. I need those reminders and I need those shows to clearly point out right from wrong. There are other ways to know right from wrong, of course, but it's not so easy to come by without either being judged or fussed at. I have found that as I grow, the things I was taught as a child become blurred and forgotten with the many exceptions and urges to rebel against them. Because of the behaviors I see around me from my peers and the influence it has on me, the right from wrong that I knew like that back of my hand becomes something I let fade away. I can clearly see the way the writers of children's shows teach children to be honest and faithful and all those good things, and it's refreshing for my mind because I often need to learn again and again.
Cartoons are like my safe haven. When I'm watching LoliRock and Miraculous Ladybug, I don't have to filter out the things they do and say from what I know I should do and say, because there are no curse words I have keep my tongue from picking up and there are no wrong actions from the main charcters that are left undealt with. Cartoons reteach me the things I allow myself to forget so easily.
Another thing about them is that they do not underestimate and practically insult children and teens. I have tried out many shows that portrayed all teenagers as rebellious and wild and disobedient and completely irresponsible. I mean, yeah, a lot of us can be, but not all of us. I know those shows are made for the drama and teen angst, but they get in my head. It's almost as if they're telling me that that is all I'll ever be: disobedient and stupid and immature. I'm a work in progress, everyone is! But that's all the more reason I should surround myself in things that encourage me. Kids Shows are exactly that. They are made to show children that they can follow their dreams and they're strong and their feelings are valid. That's what they tell me. I can follow my dream (*cough* goal *cough*) and I am strong and my feelings are valid.
And just in case no one has told you
You can follow your dreams.
You are strong.
Your feelings are valid.
I turn to cartoons for that reminder. There are many other ways to go about it, I know, but I prefer watching magical girl transformations (and kitty boy transformations. I can't forget my son, Chat Noir).
My family and friends and even those few acquaintances who know me well enough wonder why I enjoy watching cartoons so much. I'm a teenage girl watching shows for seven year olds and up, that's strange, apparently. Though none of them will ever read this (I sure hope they never find this blog), here is my answer: I find them enjoyable and fun to watch, but they are also the calm in the midst of my chaos. Whenever it seems everything is going wrong and my anxiety is getting the best of me, I can watch an episode of whatever cartoon I'm watching at the moment and it will remind me that it isn't as difficult as I'm making it out to be.
I am a complicated, beat-around-the-bush, anything but understandable person. I'm a difficult person, but that's okay.
I would like to think that I am a straightforward, simple kind of person. I would like to think that I am uncomplicated and able to be understood clearly. I would like to think that I am an easy, enjoyable person to be around. I can like to think that all day long, but the truth of the matter is that I am anything but what I would like to think that I am. I am a complicated, beat-around-the-bush, anything but understandable person, and that's not just cause I'm a teenager. I'm a difficult person, but that's okay, because we're all difficult. As difficult people, we like the things that are different from ourselves, kinda like the old saying "opposites attract". Though when people say that they're usually talking about other people, but I'm talking about interests and the way we spend out time. I might as well be unable to be straightforward. Of course I want to be, but insecurities and anxiety often stops me from being straightforward about hard conversations and things I need to do, and I guess that's why I love cartoons so much.
Most people my age like to watch shows like Pretty Little Liars and Vampire Diaries, and there's nothing wrong with that! I'm not dissing on the shows people like that I've never shown an interest in, it's just not me. I adore cartoons because they're cute and have so many lessons and reminders to be a better person. I need those reminders and I need those shows to clearly point out right from wrong. There are other ways to know right from wrong, of course, but it's not so easy to come by without either being judged or fussed at. I have found that as I grow, the things I was taught as a child become blurred and forgotten with the many exceptions and urges to rebel against them. Because of the behaviors I see around me from my peers and the influence it has on me, the right from wrong that I knew like that back of my hand becomes something I let fade away. I can clearly see the way the writers of children's shows teach children to be honest and faithful and all those good things, and it's refreshing for my mind because I often need to learn again and again.
Cartoons are like my safe haven. When I'm watching LoliRock and Miraculous Ladybug, I don't have to filter out the things they do and say from what I know I should do and say, because there are no curse words I have keep my tongue from picking up and there are no wrong actions from the main charcters that are left undealt with. Cartoons reteach me the things I allow myself to forget so easily.
Another thing about them is that they do not underestimate and practically insult children and teens. I have tried out many shows that portrayed all teenagers as rebellious and wild and disobedient and completely irresponsible. I mean, yeah, a lot of us can be, but not all of us. I know those shows are made for the drama and teen angst, but they get in my head. It's almost as if they're telling me that that is all I'll ever be: disobedient and stupid and immature. I'm a work in progress, everyone is! But that's all the more reason I should surround myself in things that encourage me. Kids Shows are exactly that. They are made to show children that they can follow their dreams and they're strong and their feelings are valid. That's what they tell me. I can follow my dream (*cough* goal *cough*) and I am strong and my feelings are valid.
And just in case no one has told you
You can follow your dreams.
You are strong.
Your feelings are valid.
I turn to cartoons for that reminder. There are many other ways to go about it, I know, but I prefer watching magical girl transformations (and kitty boy transformations. I can't forget my son, Chat Noir).
My family and friends and even those few acquaintances who know me well enough wonder why I enjoy watching cartoons so much. I'm a teenage girl watching shows for seven year olds and up, that's strange, apparently. Though none of them will ever read this (I sure hope they never find this blog), here is my answer: I find them enjoyable and fun to watch, but they are also the calm in the midst of my chaos. Whenever it seems everything is going wrong and my anxiety is getting the best of me, I can watch an episode of whatever cartoon I'm watching at the moment and it will remind me that it isn't as difficult as I'm making it out to be.
I am a complicated, beat-around-the-bush, anything but understandable person. I'm a difficult person, but that's okay.
A Little Lady Named Autumn
In my many failed attempts at writing a blog and keeping a diary, I have learned a couple things. One of them being that I will always have something to write, whether it's about my first crush and how awful my taste in boys were at the age of eight or my strange habit of deciphering a person's personality by their favorite color. I will always have something to write, but it will never get through if I don't take the time to actually write it (because duh). Another thing I have learned is that even if no one reads it, writing in a journal, a princess diary with a heart shaped lock or otherwise, is something of significance to me. Simply letting words and emotions spill out on a piece of paper or screen is something that gives me a thrill beyond explanation, because it is something that I can create with my own experience and feelings. And no one can tell me that I did it wrong, because it is mine and it is how I feel. I can feel negative emotions and I can feel things I shouldn't, but I cannot feel incorrectly. Writing is mine, and though this may be yet again another blog I trash because I don't do anything with it, I will share what is mine.
Hello, my imaginary readers and any wanderers who clearly have nothing better to do. My name is Autumn. I enjoy bundling up in my favorite fuzzy penguin blanket, listening to rain, drinking vanilla creamer with just a bit of coffee, cuddling with my cat, and writing while doing all of those things. I am just another teenage girl with too many things to do and too little motivation to do them, so I'm spending my "free time" writing the little things that happen in my life in a blog that no one will read (at least I don't expect anyone to read this). I will simply write of the things that are important to me and the things that happen and just the emotions of a teenager.
I made this blog for just a few reasons.
1. I was bored
Oh, how typical of me to start something crazy like a blog because of my constant boredom. I truly believe something will come out of this. My boredom always manages to bring out so many things.
2. I want to practice my writing
As I have said (and you have noticed, I'm sure) I enjoy writing. It is my passion and what I want to do with my life. I do not have a dream, but a goal to become a published author. I don't need to become a famous writer or anything, though that would be awesome, I just want to pour my soul into what I do and share it with the world. So I need to practice, and what better way than this?
That's. . . about it. Of course I could come up with some poetic reasons for writing this like,"I want to write about my life so that years along the line I can show it to my children!" or "I long to share my experiences so that I can reach out and touch somebody, if only to show one person that they aren't alone and I am such an inspiration. Oh, I'm so kind and generous blah blah blah."
What's the point of a journal if I'm making everything sound pretty just for the sake of sounding pretty? I'm gonna be honest, because I want this to be real.
I am Autumn, an unlucky little lady. I hope you stick around to read my ramblings of nonsense. I do not lead a particularly exciting life, but I don't believe that I have to write of wild adventures and drama that leaves people on the edge of their seat for this to be something of meaning. Every beating heart is a story, and every story is worth telling. I can't promise you much, but here is my story.
Hello, my imaginary readers and any wanderers who clearly have nothing better to do. My name is Autumn. I enjoy bundling up in my favorite fuzzy penguin blanket, listening to rain, drinking vanilla creamer with just a bit of coffee, cuddling with my cat, and writing while doing all of those things. I am just another teenage girl with too many things to do and too little motivation to do them, so I'm spending my "free time" writing the little things that happen in my life in a blog that no one will read (at least I don't expect anyone to read this). I will simply write of the things that are important to me and the things that happen and just the emotions of a teenager.
I made this blog for just a few reasons.
1. I was bored
Oh, how typical of me to start something crazy like a blog because of my constant boredom. I truly believe something will come out of this. My boredom always manages to bring out so many things.
2. I want to practice my writing
As I have said (and you have noticed, I'm sure) I enjoy writing. It is my passion and what I want to do with my life. I do not have a dream, but a goal to become a published author. I don't need to become a famous writer or anything, though that would be awesome, I just want to pour my soul into what I do and share it with the world. So I need to practice, and what better way than this?
That's. . . about it. Of course I could come up with some poetic reasons for writing this like,"I want to write about my life so that years along the line I can show it to my children!" or "I long to share my experiences so that I can reach out and touch somebody, if only to show one person that they aren't alone and I am such an inspiration. Oh, I'm so kind and generous blah blah blah."
What's the point of a journal if I'm making everything sound pretty just for the sake of sounding pretty? I'm gonna be honest, because I want this to be real.
I am Autumn, an unlucky little lady. I hope you stick around to read my ramblings of nonsense. I do not lead a particularly exciting life, but I don't believe that I have to write of wild adventures and drama that leaves people on the edge of their seat for this to be something of meaning. Every beating heart is a story, and every story is worth telling. I can't promise you much, but here is my story.
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