Humanity
Random Acts of Kindness
My mother, god bless her, always taught me to do nice things for others whenever I can- that’s why I give homeless people “Kind” bars and donate to “Donation Boxes” at various places. Unfortunately, some ideas, like giving Grandma’s computer a “Makeover,” sound better in theory than in actuality. However, last Friday (Friday the 13th, no less!) I did something beautiful for another autism mom that she will never, ever forget.
By Jennifer Rose4 years ago in Confessions
When You Don't Fit In Life's Perfect Boxes
Starting from when we are very small, Societies and Governments try to place us in boxes intended to tell us who or what we are, or what we can or cannot do. From a young age, I have been very good at not fitting in those boxes.
By Kristy Anderson4 years ago in Confessions
Am I really hitting Rock Bottom? Check yourself before you say “yes”
Oh, Mom’s birthday earlier this week was fine. Better than fine, really- while Mom is still upset about my sister’s disability, I still had a great day. We went out to a fancy-shmancy restaurant, and while my sister acted up, they reacted beautifully and saw it as nothing. I had offered to read to my sister, and gave my mother a Bob Marley cover album for her special day, which was done by one of those dinky cover bands that play by the pool, but hey, it’s the thought that counts. Speaking of which, I had also offered to read to my sister “VeggieTales” but accidentally left the book at home. Oh well, I’ll just bring it next time!
By Jennifer Rose4 years ago in Confessions
The Day I Chose Me
A couple of years ago, I finally decided to leave an extremely abusive relationship. I was with my partner for five years, and I endured mental, physical, and emotional abuse on an almost daily basis. She would call me crude names, as well as tell me I was worthless and that no one would ever want to be with me or love me. She would punch me, pull my hair, and throw my personal belongings, often times breaking expensive electronics. I lost count of the number of books she destroyed. She was abusive, narcissistic, and mean. When I finally got up the courage to leave and stay gone, she lit our house on fire, destroying much of my clothing, all of my books, and sentimental items that cannot be replaced.
By Kristina Zill4 years ago in Confessions
Attending my parents' funeral.
The air is suffocating. You choke up at all the memories flashing through your mind. The good, the bad, and the ugly. You think of all the things should have, could have, and would have said. You remember your childhood. Your mother or father's laugh. The way they smelled. The facial expressions they made when they were happy. Sad. Even the way it felt to be hugged. Your teen years. You remember that you are now in your twenties.
By Jaded Savior Blog4 years ago in Confessions
I Believe in Santa Claus
I was in the fifth grade when I learned the truth about Santa. Well, I thought it was the truth. I remember my mother had to sit me down and tell me because I was getting too old to believe in Santa Claus and I was a super believer if you will. You see, when I was very young, probably about three or four my dad went out on our deck on Christmas Eve and stomped around with jingle bells. My older sisters were in on it and woke me up so I could hear Santa’s sleigh on our roof. You might think this would make me angry or resentful as an adult, but it’s one of my most cherished memories of my young childhood. I will admit, though, that when my mom sat me down for that talk some of the magic of Christmas was gone for me. For what I thought was forever. I had a younger sister who still believed for a few years; and nephews and a niece so it was always a joy to see the wonderment in their eyes on Christmas morning. Still, in every Santa movie I found myself wishing that the big reveal moments (You know the kind. When the reindeer fly, and everyone sees that Santa is real.) would happen in real life. It wasn’t until I reached adulthood and saw something someone had posted about how to gently break the news to your kids that I realized. I was wrong. We are all wrong. Santa does exist.
By Elizabeth Diehl4 years ago in Confessions
Giving Back To The Extreme
Yep, that's me... the girl walking in the middle of winter in a bikini! I have always followed the motto "go big or go home" and that was still the case when it came to the type of charity events I participated in. I remember the first time I heard about the polar bear plunge. I could hardly contain myself! Raise money for Special Olympics and in return get to jump into a frozen lake!
By Crystal Rae4 years ago in Confessions
The Secret Chronicles of Your Dreamy Eyes
Those piercing glares as if you're searching for the stories of my soul. The stare of a thousand beaming eyes. I wonder sometimes what is it that you are thinking about, what is it that you are looking for... or is it that you are so intrigued with me? I have never had anyone look at me the way that you look at me... with such grace and interest. At times I smile, you don't have to say a word, but I know that you are communicating your love for me through your eyes. You are an extraordinary man, I appreciate that you made me feel like I am your muse, but I wish that you can tell me how I make you feel.
By Carla SofiiLove Garcia 4 years ago in Confessions
My Heart
It’s an anomaly, waking up in a bed with another and still feeling alone. You can physically see them there. it’s tangible, and yet you still couldn’t feel further apart. I read somewhere that it’s better to jump off a moving train than to wait to be pushed off. it didn’t resonate until i found myself on that moving train. I feel like i spend so much time on the could be that i forget that sometimes situations just are, and must be accepted as such. As painful as it might be, some things are just meant to be what they are no matter how much you wish otherwise, and when it comes to love it’s just that much harder to accept. It’s a funny thing you know, love. Complicated and stressful and sometimes painful, but still finding it worth while. I never wanted to be one of those people who was fearful of it. Always wanted to embrace it for its beauty and wonder and even if there were bumps and bruises along the way I never wanted that to douse my fire. Sadly so , enough turmoil and tragedy will cause the change to happen regardless. It’s the acknowledgment of such change and the willingness to recreate that narrative that is of utmost importance. The fight to make sure that you don’t allow your lessons to block your blessings, because love really is a beautiful thing when it’s healthy. When two people are willing to put the other before themselves and make the sacrifices, have the hard conversations, tell the truth even if it hurts, and still love and appreciate and respect one another is breathtaking. To physically see it on two people when they are enamored with each other or when you see a couple celebrate 50 years of marriage it’s admirable. It shows that a healthy and strong relationship can withstand even the deadliest of storms. I’ve always wanted that. From my oldest memories of adolescence I have always been a girl who has loved love. My parents did a pretty decent job of giving me something I’d aspire to have one day . Now their relationship was far from perfect, but in those moments when they would lay in the bed just as the sun started to rise above the horizon and they would talk and laugh together before we all woke up & left our beds to join them in their bed, the love was authentic . It was unwavering and you could feel it in the air that surrounded us. It was like warm clothes when you first take them out the dryer ; you couldn’t help but be consumed by the feeling. You could feel it when we use to sit around the dinner table after a long day and joke and talk about our day or when we would sit around the tv and watch our favorite shows together. As I look back on those memories, and smile , I am reminded that it’s attainable, the love i desire for myself , it’s possible. Even if i fail a hundred times I know that it is possible and that is why I’m not scared to keep trying. I’m not afraid to take the leap. Most people are scared to jump because they’re afraid of the fall, but what if they were to fly? What if they were able to achieve and receive more than they thought possible? What if taking that leap of faith placed them exactly where they needed to be? Faith over fear. Faith is not being able to see but still holding on to belief. I have faith. I may not see it, but i still believe it’s there.
By Nicole Negron4 years ago in Confessions
I'm choosing out
I have questions. The WHY ones. Dozens and dozens of them. My mind is full and I cant even write on the blank pages anymore though I feel I should. I have tried though, but instead of losing my wordings into those little chunks of lifeless pages and pour life to it, I lost my mind instead. I lost everything. I lost my stability and rolled myself to the mud but thanks I am not mad.
By Caleb Ng'eno4 years ago in Confessions
