But first, let me take a selfie.

I think that social media is great for some reasons. It’s an excellent way to reach a large number of people. If it weren’t for social media, it would be difficult to advertise my blog. If it weren’t for social media, many of us would not know what’s going on in other countries, let alone our own. However, I do believe that social media is misused at times.

I read an article earlier written by a woman whose husband hardly ever dedicates posts to her. I was specifically looking for an article about being perfectly fine with this. The reason being is because I’ve noticed how upset I get over social media. “Well, why won’t you put up a picture of us?” “Why aren’t I ever your #wcw?” “But, I post pictures of us/you.” “When are you going to hashtag about me?” “Well, how would you feel if I didn’t post pictures of us?” It’s a tad bit embarrassing to admit, but I’ve asked some of these questions. Then, I started to look at the bigger picture. I broke it down for myself all while watching the 50th Super Bowl (You can tell just how much I enjoyed the game). I wanted to be featured on Instagram so badly because I wanted the whole world to know just how much I’m loved and appreciated by my significant other. But then I realized, I am loved and appreciated regardless. A picture of me/us may not be posted  this Wednesday or next, but I’m sure I’ll be loved this Wednesday and next. It was a hard pill to swallow (also embarrassing to admit) but I realized that being posted on social media does not change or is reminiscent of the way someone feels about me. I also asked myself, “Well, what did people do before social media?” because believe it or not, there was a time when Facebook didn’t exist. Once I realized that relationships were fine and prospered before social media, I realized that receiving a card, a note, a love letter, or even a thirty second phone call to say, “I love you” is so much more meaningful than an Instagram post.

But wait, this isn’t the end of my rant!

We’re on social media so much that we forget about our own lives because we’re so concerned with the lives of others. We can go online and find out where others are eating, what they’re eating, who they’re eating with, what they’re going to do after they eat, and so on. We can go online and see that someone our age has a better paying job, a better car, a better apartment/house, etc. and the craziest thing is that before looking at their profile, we may have been completely satisfied with our lives. We’re constantly comparing our lives with the lives of others because it’s in our faces all the time. Most of us can’t put our phones down during dinner, a movie, or even a night out. Before eating, we HAVE to take a picture. When we’re out having a good time, we HAVE to record every minute of it. What if we just stopped and enjoyed it? What if our food came to our table and we ate it right away? We didn’t take a picture of it nor did we scroll through Instagram while eating it.

Social media is taking us away from the present.

Remember that every minute spent on social media is a minute you cannot get back.

And I’m not suggesting that we delete our Instagrams’ and Facebooks’, all I’m asking is that we pay closer attention to the role social media plays in our lives. Is it a positive one? Do you feel happier after scrolling through Instagram? How often are you comparing your life to someone else’s because of social media? Is it taking a toll on your relationship?

Stop scrolling and think. I promise it won’t hurt.

Yours truly,

The lesbian who is trying harder and harder every day to care less and less about social media

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Happiness journal. 

  It’s easy to talk about, think about, and harp on the things that upset us. Rather than appreciate our current job, we complain that the pay isn’t enough, that our coworkers suck, or that there’s no room for growth. We don’t give ourselves credit when we get a C+ in a difficult class. Instead, we complain about not getting a higher grade or blame the professor. We’re hardly ever satisfied with the way that we look and make ourselves feel like shit when we eat junk food. But what are the benefits of complaining? What are the benefits of thinking about things that upset us? Doesn’t it make more sense to think about the things that make us happy instead? I think we can all agree that choosing to think happy thoughts is the better option. So, I’m suggesting this: a happiness journal. This happiness journal doesn’t necessary have to be an actual journal, although that’s a good idea. It can be a blog, a note in your phone, an email, etc. Write down EVERY SINGLE THING that makes you happy! Here’s my first list: 

  • Sweatpants 
  • Sweater weather candle from bath and body works 
  • Body wash
  • Loofahs 
  • Milk chocolate trufflelata from Godiva (allow me to change your life with this one) 
  • Stars 
  • Henny and cranberry 
  • 9:30 am (typically) phone calls from my girlfriend 
  • Handwritten notes from my mom 
  • A full tank of gas 
  • Pink lemonade 
  • Laughing with my sister 
  • Almost anything Nike 
  • The smell of laundry 
  • Being warm 

And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. 

When we take the time to think about all of the things that make us happy, we realize that the list goes on and on. If you don’t believe me, start a happiness journal. Whenever you’re feeling sad, angry, frustrated, etc., open up your journal and read your list. If it doesn’t put a smile on your face, read it again until it does. 

Yours truly, 

The tryna be happy all the damn time lesbian 

Uncanny. 

If I died tomorrow, there’s a few things I want people to remember. 

“I love you.”Some of my loved ones may feel as though I don’t say it enough. But if I died tomorrow, I really hope everyone that I love knows just much I love them. I hope that I show it more than enough. 

If I died tomorrow, please don’t remember all of the times that I was angry, frustrated, sad, etc. I want to be remembered as a happy person. 

If I died tomorrow, I want to be remembered as someone who changed the way you think. Someone who changed the way you view life. 

If I died tomorrow, don’t remember all of the complaints I made about money. Remember me as unmaterialistic. Remember the person who wasn’t impressed by name-brand handbags and expensive jewelry. Remember just how happy a pair of sweats and a beanie made me. 

If I died tomorrow, remember me as simple. Remember me as someone who values quality of life. Remember me as someone who strived for happiness and longed for adventure. 

But most of all, if I died tomorrow, remember me as someone who was different, unique, weird, one-of-kind, you name it. Remember me as someone who embraced being different and didn’t run away from it. Remember me as someone who took, “You’re weird,” as a compliment. 

Yours truly, 

The lesbian who googles and is impressed with the synonyms for weird 

  

Self-worth.

It seems as though it’s easier for us to feel as if we aren’t good enough. There is no solid definition or way to describe “good enough.” It means different things to different people. Some of us feel as if we aren’t good enough for our parents. Maybe your parents want you to become a doctor while your dream is to become a teacher. Some of us feel as if we aren’t good enough for our significant other. Maybe you don’t feel pretty enough, adventurous enough, or sexual enough. But the worst is when you don’t feel good enough for yourself. Maybe you think that you don’t deserve nice things or that you don’t deserve a boyfriend/girlfriend. You may even think that you aren’t worthy of love or success or happiness. Well my friend, I’m here to tell you that you are worthy of those things along with anything else that sets your heart on fire. Now it’s your turn to start believing it.

I’ve been made to feel as if I’m not good enough. I’m not good enough because I’m young. I’m not good enough because I don’t have a career. I don’t make six figures. Shit, I don’t even have health insurance. (I know you coming for me during tax season, Obama. It’s all good.) I’m not good enough because I have a “strong personality.” I’m not good enough because I’m a woman. I’m not good enough because I’m a woman which therefore means I cannot impregnate your daughter. I’m not good enough because I don’t know what I want to do with my life. I’m not good enough because I talk as if I’m “from the street.” I’m not good enough because I don’t eat “properly.” I’m not good enough because I’m from Paterson. I’m not good enough because I curse…often. I’m not good enough because I’m a lesbian.

See, the issue with these statements is that they did not come from my mouth. They didn’t come from my mouth because I AM GOOD ENOUGH. Call me young all you want; age ain’t nothing but a number to me. I know that I’m mature and that’s all that matters. (Emphasis on “I know.”) I don’t have a career and I don’t know what I’m doing with my life but remember when you called me a baby? Well, this baby has PLENTY of time to figure out what she wants to do with her life considering she’s only 22 years old. (Whatever happened to having fun? I’m not cut out for that 9-5, come home and admire my white picket fence before I cook dinner for my family five nights a week, life.) And I mean, this is a blog dedicated to making women and gays feel good about themselves so I don’t even have to say that I’m good enough because I have lady parts, but I will anyway. I’M A WOMAN AND I’M GOOD ENOUGH. And I know that I can’t impregnate your daughter but I can raise children with her and be the best mother I can be.

So, there it is. Rather than allowing someone to make me feel like shit, I decided to tell myself that I’m enough. In fact, I’m more than enough.

Today’s objective: Reminding yourself of your values and realizing that they may be different from the values of others.

Yours truly,

The lesbian who will never let another dictate her life

  

Same love 

I was deeply hurt over this past weekend. It wasn’t one particular person that hurt me and I wasn’t mad at anyone. But I was hurt in the way that I could’ve started crying at any given moment. And I did cry. A lot. I cried in my car. I cried in the shower. I even cried in front of my little sister which is something that I’ve probably done only a handful of times. I was so desperately trying to figure out why I was hurt. Where was all of this pain coming from? I eventually figured it out. I was hurt by the world. The world’s, or should I say society’s, perception of being gay is what hurt me. I realized that being straight really is easier. If I were a man, my girlfriend and I would never get looked at or questioned after sharing a kiss in public. We could hold hands in public without others’ eyes diverting downwards when they pass us on the street. We could show affection in public without men thinking it’s “hot” or an open invitation to come home with us. 

Being straight is easier. 

Straight people don’t ever have to sit their parents down and tell them, “I’m straight.” It’s already assumed that they are unless they dress “differently” or talk “differently.” You know, because all gay people dress a certain way. Feminine lesbians? Unheard of! Unless of course one is feminine and another is butch in which case the feminine one will probably get questioned more often. People have to figure out just how feminity and sexuality go hand in hand. How could a woman be feminine and be gay? IT’S POSSIBLE. 

So like I was saying, being straight is easier. There is no, “I’m going to tell my parents soon” or “I don’t know how to tell my family.” Coming out to your family and friends usually causes anxiety. You’re afraid of how they’re going to react. Oh and be ready for the same ole questions. 

Here’s a list: 

“Well, what about grandchildren?” 

“Have you always been gay?” 

“How do you guys.. You know?” 

“What about your ex boyfriends/girlfriends?” 

“Did something happen to you?” (This is the question asked when people think trauma has something to do with one’s sexuality. LOL.) 

“So, are you fully gay now?” 

“You know that it’s wrong, right?” (God will probably be brought up shortly after.) 

The list goes on and on. 

I was hurt because it’s unfair. It’s unfair that we have to hide who we really are in front of our loved ones. It’s unfair that I have to act like the best friend. It’s unfair that we have to sneak kisses. It’s unfair that I’m the one who can easily be resented. It’s unfair how I can make a woman happier than any guy ever has yet I can only be loved behind closed doors. But what’s really unfair is how, “You’re playing it off so well!” is supposed to be some kind of compliment. That’s the thing: I don’t want to have to play it off. I want the whole world to know that I love you and that you love me. The hashtag #lovewins is cute but clearly, love hasn’t won just yet. 

It’s so unfair.

Yours truly, 

The lesbian who can marry the one she loves in all 50 states but continues to be “less qualified” as another woman’s partner 

  

Pasergetic (Passionate + Energetic = Pasergetic) 

People chase after normalcy, I run away from it. 

Society has created an image of the perfect family as a wife, husband, a daughter, and a son. Mommy stays home and watches the kids while daddy goes out and makes the money. There’s a home cooked meal on the table every day of the week and pizzas are ordered over the weekend as a treat. But this isn’t everyone’s reality. The families that I know are living paycheck to paycheck. Daddy normally isn’t in the picture. There are no big houses or fancy cars. There’s apartment buildings, Hondas, and Toyotas. But that’s not what we see on tv. That’s not what we read in books. We start to ask ourselves, “Why did we get the short end of the stick?” But should we let the media dictate what the short end of the stick is? Should we feel less than because we don’t have a white picket fence and a picture perfect family? Should we feel like an oddball for not wanting that? What if we want adventure and not the mundane bullshit we see on Desperate Housewives? So what if my vision of my future is different from mainstream media? My less-than-perfect family will be just as great as yours. If not, better. And my far-less-mundane life will be just as great as yours. But I’m sure it’ll be better. 
Yours truly, 

The poor lesbian who’s clearly been affected by intersectionality  

  

A Letter to my Future Self.

2015 was one hell of a year to say the least. It isn’t until the end of the year that you realize just how much your life has changed from the beginning of the year. In January of this year, I was not a college graduate. However, I am now. In January of this same year, I had a different job, a different daily routine, and a different mindset. I feel freer than I’ve ever felt yet I continue to have moments of frustrating stagnation. I feel more peaceful than ever before yet I continue to have moments of great nosiness. I feel at ease yet I continue to experience emotional turbulence. And quite frankly, I’m sick of it. I’m making a promise to myself that 2016 will be a year of less emotional turbulence and more emotional stability. I want to fall in love over and over again, particularly with the same person, yet be able to do the same with myself. I want to love me so much that if I get my heart broken, I can say to myself, “But at least you got you.” I refuse to rely on anyone to bring me happiness yet I am open to people complementing my happiness and perhaps increasing it. In 2016, I will be the best version of me to date. I will continue to speak my mind and continue to be honest while doing so. I will follow my grandma’s advice and “do the right thing” even if it means telling a cashier that they gave me too much change back. I will continue to tell those I love just how much I love them. And I will love strangers too. In 2016, I want to judge less and empathize more. I want to spend as much time as possible with my loved ones yet dedicate an adequate amount of time to me. I want to visit new places and reminisce about old places. I want to spend more time enjoying and appreciating money as opposed to stressing about it yet remain humble and realize that money can never buy happiness. In 2016, I will continue to stand my ground and state my opinions with confidence yet be open-minded enough to appreciate someone doing the same. I will not fight ignorance with ignorance but I will try to provide knowledge in every situation that I can. In 2016, I will learn new things. I’ll learn new things about people, places, and things. In 2016, I want to complain less and appreciate more. I want to find one good thing about every day. I want to embrace the good things and let go of the bad. In 2016, want to cry more tears of joy than tears of pain yet remind myself that it’s okay to cry in painful situations. In 2016, I want to experience change as I did in 2015. I want to find a new hobby, smile about new things, laugh at new jokes, and love in new ways. Never any less though, I always want to love more.

I mean, not in an unrequited love type way but in a love my mom more than ever type way. I want to love more in a love my sister more every day type way. What I mean by I always want to love more is love my girlfriend more than yesterday which seemed unimaginable yesterday type way. Or in a, “I’ve never had a friend love me more than she does,” type way.

You guys get it, don’t you?

Yours truly,

The hippie ass, “love is the answer,” love thy neighbor but doesn’t affiliate herself with any religion, but if love were a religion, she’d be a follower, lesbian