Sun Come Through

Fair Warning: I may have had too much coffee today. Granted, I didn't go to sleep til after 2am and I've been up since 6 o'clock. I kept having these stress induced dreams where i was fighting Ashton James in a rooftop in Phoenix.  I think it's because I wasn't happy with chapter 6 and Ashton gets under my skin.  And I could be a little nervous about the Celtics game in Phoenix tonight.  I shouldn't be, it's irrelevant.  I already know they're going to lose. The Celtics, that is. 

So I tried to go back to sleep but I really wanted to get up and rework chapter 6  like no other.  I finally did.  Still not all that happy with it but it's a little better.  And then of course the coffee...it's so delicious. I have no regrets.

I had some awesome conversations last night. You know who you are.  It became very apparent to me that I am exactly where I'm supposed to be. Again. I usually use my blog as a place of total transparency but I feel the need to withhold just a tiny bit. Just know this, the last few days have solidified my disbelief in coincidence. doesn't exist, it's a mythical creature.  God's purpose and plan is the ultimate everything and I love knowing that I'm a part of it.

"I found a light to light my way home."

Carry on.

Liars and Their Stink

I'm having a bad day.  And I don't want to go into the details of said day but I will take this moment to vent on a subject that has been bothering me.

Liars.

Seriously, "I'll read yours if you read mine" is such a load of crap.  Literal crap.  I have had to read the worst things in the last few days as I whore myself out for some kind of feedback on my novel.  I have been tricked into reading countless weird teen drama and horribly horribly written, craptastic, self indulging, graphic, over the top One Direction fanfic.  I mean, really? One Direction?  Are they still a thing? But the deal has been made, comment for comment.  So i read this awful drivel, leave my polite feedback and then I wait. And wait.  No one reads mine. No one.

Why am I reducing myself to this?  Why am i wasting precious hours of writing time on liars and their stinkiness?  Why? Why? Why?  Oh yeah, because I have exactly 2 readers for my story and I need more.  Because I am a selfish, self obsessed writer who will stop at nothing to get freaking feedback.

Let's face it, I'm the stinkiest of them all.

Does Pain Sell Better?

Writing a novel is hard you guys.  I know that sounds pretty pathetic, especially when my 'novel' is actually a springy romantic comedy with quirky supporting characters staring the most popular blonde of the moment (I'm thinking Kate Hudson is getting older so I've moved onto Jennifer Lawrence.  But I will always picture Yvonne as my Lenny...sigh).  And it's not the story that's hard.  I have the story all locked in, it's the time and the patience and the rewrites and the lack of interest and blah blah blah.

I have a tiny following on fictionpress so that's highly encouraging.  If any of you wanted to check out what I have so far you can look me up by my pen name: Chosenbyfaith.

In a fit of discouragement this weekend i posted a short story that i wrote a few months back.  My little followers went bonkers.  I was getting love letters in private messages about how moving it was.  How much it affected them.  How incredibly emotional it must have been to write.  And they would be correct.  It was an emotional piece. at the time. But then i wrote it and i felt better.  it was really the first time that I'd shared a writing that personal with strangers.

that leads me to believe that perhaps I'm not getting as strong of a reaction to Collide because it's mostly fun for me to write and not painful.  maybe my writing is really only good when it hurts my heart to put down on paper.  so many thoughts...

so, gentle readers, as a special gift, here is the link to my short story. let me know what you think.
Colder Weather

New Way Home

Hey all, serious post warning. Just a few things I'm working through and I wanted to write it down. Feel free to move on, no jokes today.

I have struggled with my weight for years.  Typically for girls, it started in middle school and all through high school.  But events occurred that kept me in a repetitive, self abusing cycle that made me heavier and more unhealthy.  I feel like I've broken out of a lot of those thoughts and traps but sometimes reminders creep in and I find myself discouraged.

the super bowl brings the worst of it to the surface. those closet to me know this. i try not to tell people too much because as soon as they find out that i was involved in a sexual assault they have one of two reactions: they either A) roll their eyes and assume i'm trying to get attention. which pisses me off because how many girls don't ever report it because their scared no one will believe them? ( i could rant on this subject all day long. rape done by an acquaintance or in my case a boyfriend, happens all the time and should NOT be swept under the rug.) or B) they start using kid gloves and tiptoeing around me, like i'm fragile.  well guess what? i'm not. I'm not a frickn victim. I'm a survivor.

But i internalized everything for a long time. years. i blamed myself. it was my fault. i deserved it.  as soon as i would start to climb out of that hole of self hatred someone would push a trigger and send me spiraling right back into it.  thoughtless things, tossed around. like the violation was somehow something i wanted. people can be cruel without even knowing what kind of damage they're doing to another.

 and then i gained 100 pounds. no joke. it's taken a lot of hard work, both physical and emotional, for me to feel healthy again. i'm not there yet, i'm still in progress. but i did something a few months ago that i needed to do and it pushed me to the next level. i forgave him. it sounds weird, right? i'm not saying i'm okay with what happened or what he did. it was wrong and evil. but that's not for me to dwell on anymore. i was only punishing myself. he had no idea. i doubt he even thinks about it. he never thought he did anything wrong.

the things that hurt the most was the disbelief. it's part of me, it's something i went through and it changed me. and i lost friends over it because they thought i was making it up. they accused me of just trying to trash his reputation. and i was the one labeled a whore. the worst part? I believed them.

I have some new friends now. friends that remind me that i'm strong. it's one of the reasons i got my tattoo. i know my parents don't approve and that's fine. i got it for me. i got it after completing one of the hardest programs of my life. i lost 23 pounds (down a total of 55 from my heaviest) and never gave up. for the first time ever. i finished something important to me. the eagle feather is to remind me to stay brave. the word Everlong is from a Foo Fighters song. if you know the song and my story, you would know the significance. "and i wonder, when i sing along with you, if everything could feel this real forever, if anything could ever be this good again. the only thing i'll ever ask of you: you gotta promise not to stop when i say when."  It's probably not as moving to you as it is to me. no matter. it was a major life changing thing and i wanted it recorded. because i tend to forget and then i regress. I don't want to do that anymore.

my journey isn't over. i still have another 50 pounds to go but i'm not giving up. not this time. never again.

so, happy super bowl to everyone. i will be staying home and watching it with my fellas. i can watch it now without flashbacks. but it's still a tender thing. Charles continues to help me build new memories. stronger memories. like i said, i'm NOT a victim. i refuse to be. i survived.