Big Girl Spring Break
AS the weather warms up our cloths cool down for "big girls" though there is no sigh of relief only a grimace of dread.
Spring is right around the corner, bringing with it many wonderful things including: warmer weather, longer days, spring rains, and spring break. For many of our older readers Spring break brings back memories of swimming at the beach, wild days and nights partying with good friends, mistakes made, lessons learned, and so many precious memories. For others it brings back memories of being self aware of the extra pounds we gained throughout the holiday season and trying to find ways to hide the extra weight while still having a good time and keeping up with our thinner friends, hiding in pictures in which we were forced to show a little skin, and missing out on opportunities we would have otherwise jumped at and had the time of our lives participating in.for the younger readers.... I truly hope this article helps you to have more fun and make more memories than your fore mothers and fathers.
There are dozens, hundreds, even thousands of people on the beach no -one is staring at you it's just in your head
We all like to think that we are the center of everyone's attention and their universe revolves around us but.... let's face it.... that's a lie. The truth of the matter is unless you are
- A movie star / famous artist/ popular singer/ or trending Vlogger, YouTube sensation, author, or reality t.v star.....
- Dressed in the most outlandish crazy outfit in the country that would make even a specific pop artist (we all know which one I mean) say holy fudge and do a jaw drop
- Acting in a manor that would draw attention such as acting like the creepy guy at the club that instantly makes every woman there claim she is a lesbian, making people think you are physically / mentally un- well, or so drunk that people have to move out of your way or risk getting stepped on
no - one is going to be paying attention to you. They are there for the same reason you are... to HAVE FUN. You don't have to try to hide from the people because they aren't paying attention to you to start with so relax.
You are NOT in competition with your friends
You and your friends are there to have fun and make memories so don't let how they look affect your opinion of your own appearance. They may be taller, thinner, more tan, have better hair, whiter straighter teeth, or more muscles and be built like a Greek god / goddess but that doesn't mater. While you are jealous of them for one thing or another there are pretty good odds they are jealous of you for something as well. IT'S NOT A COMPETITION and if they make you feel like it is or try to make you think they are better than you because of how you look compared to them ask yourself.... are they really your friend? Friends build you up not tear you down. so stop trying to compete with one another and take the time you are spending trying to out sexy each other and use that time to think of more fun things to do together as friends. Years from now it wont be important who as hotter what will matter is who you were with.
If you drink drink responsibly
The biggest thing that comes to mind for most people when they think about Spring break is probably drinking alcohol..... lots and lots of alcohol, and if you are feeling low because of how you look you might turn to drinking to feel better about your looks. While it might make you feel more confident and sexier too much alcohol could kill you or someone else and ruin your life forever. It could also cause you to make choices that under normal circumstances you would have the sense to know as a horrible idea that could have long lasting consequences for you, your family, your friends, and everyone involved. Alcohol wont change how you look, it wont change how other people see you, it will only change how you think for a short time. So if you are going to drink do not over do it and do not do it because you feel bad about how you look. Looks fade and change but some bad decisions are forever.
Big, Thin, Tall, Short, Tan, Pale, and everything in between.... you are beautiful just the way you are
No matter what you look like Spring break is a time to have fun and enjoy yourself. You are only young once so enjoy it don't waste it worrying about how you look. Everyone is beautiful to someone and everyone is ugly to someone. years from now when you are telling the story of your epic adventure on Spring break you wont care what you looked like or what you weighed all that will matter is the fun you had and the memories you made.
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Looking back: 2025 was a beast
It's difficult to know how to start this. I've suggested that it's been a tough one from my title and in many ways, it has; however, there is an argument that it's not been that extraordinary at all, merely this wonderful thing we call "life" with all its climaxes and pitfalls.
By Rachel Deeming21 days ago in Motivation
“One Day, I Realized Nobody Was Coming to Save Me—So I Saved Myself”
For the longest time, I believed my life was simply paused. Not broken. Not finished. Just waiting. Waiting for the right moment. Waiting for the right person. Waiting for something—anything—to arrive and change everything. I didn’t know exactly what I was waiting for, but I was sure it would come. People always said things like “It’ll get better” or “Your time will come”, and I clung to those words like promises written in invisible ink. I believed that if I endured long enough, life would eventually reward my patience. So I waited. I waited quietly, because I didn’t want to be a burden. I waited politely, because I didn’t want to seem ungrateful. I waited silently, because I didn’t even know how to explain what was wrong. From the outside, my life looked acceptable. I functioned. I showed up. I smiled when it was expected of me. I laughed at jokes that didn’t reach my heart. I answered “I’m fine” so often that it started to feel like muscle memory. But inside, something was eroding. Every day felt heavier than the last, like I was carrying a weight that kept growing while no one was looking. I woke up tired, went to bed tired, and spent the hours in between pretending I wasn’t. There was a quiet exhaustion that sleep couldn’t touch—a tiredness that came from constantly hoping for relief that never arrived. I thought suffering had to be loud to be real. I thought pain needed witnesses to matter. Mine had neither. There was no dramatic breaking point, no single moment when everything fell apart. Instead, it unraveled slowly. Almost gently. Like a thread pulled so gradually you don’t notice the fabric weakening until it’s too late. I kept telling myself, Just hold on a little longer. Surely someone would notice. Surely someone would step in. Surely life wouldn’t let me keep feeling this way forever. But life did. And then one day—an ordinary day that didn’t announce its importance—I realized something that changed everything. Nobody was coming. That realization didn’t arrive with clarity or relief. It arrived like grief. Heavy. Sharp. Unforgiving. I remember sitting alone, staring at nothing in particular, and feeling the truth settle into my bones. There would be no rescue. No sudden turning point delivered by someone else’s effort. No moment where everything magically aligned and lifted me out of my own life. It wasn’t that people didn’t care. It was that everyone was busy surviving their own storms. I had been waiting for someone to save me from a life that only I was living. And for a while, that realization shattered me. I felt abandoned by the world, betrayed by hope itself. I questioned every prayer I had whispered into the dark, every moment I had chosen patience over action. I wondered if I had misunderstood life completely—if the promises I believed in were never meant for people like me. I mourned the version of myself who thought endurance alone was enough. There is a special kind of loneliness that comes from realizing your pain is invisible. That no matter how heavy it feels to you, the world keeps moving at the same pace. Bills still need to be paid. Responsibilities still demand attention. Smiles are still expected. So I kept going. But something inside me had cracked open. Once you see the truth, you can’t unsee it. And the truth was this: waiting had become my hiding place. Hope, without action, had become an excuse to stay small. I had been standing still, convincing myself that stillness was strength. It wasn’t. Saving myself didn’t begin with confidence. It began with fear. Fear of staying the same. Fear of waking up ten years later in the same emotional place. Fear of realizing that I had wasted my own life waiting for permission to live it. I didn’t suddenly become brave. I became tired of being helpless. The first steps were almost embarrassing in their simplicity. There was nothing poetic about them. No montage-worthy transformation. Just small decisions that felt enormous at the time. Getting out of bed even when my body begged me not to. Choosing one task, then another, then another. Letting myself admit—quietly—that I was not okay. Some days, saving myself meant setting boundaries that made other people uncomfortable. I learned how often my exhaustion came from overextending myself to earn love, approval, or relevance. Saying no felt selfish at first. It felt wrong. But it also felt like oxygen. Other days, saving myself meant sitting alone with my feelings instead of numbing them. No distractions. No pretending. Just honesty. That was harder than any physical effort I had ever made. Facing your own thoughts can feel like standing in front of a mirror that refuses to lie. I began to understand something no one had taught me: healing is not linear, and it is rarely beautiful. It’s messy. Inconsistent. Frustrating. Some days feel like progress, others feel like failure. But both are part of the same road. There were days I missed the comfort of waiting. Waiting meant responsibility belonged to someone else. Taking control meant accepting that my life—every imperfect part of it—was in my hands. That was terrifying. But it was also freeing. As I slowly rebuilt myself, I noticed something else. Not everyone wanted to walk with me into this new version of myself. Some people preferred the me who needed saving. The me who was easier to control, easier to dismiss, easier to define. Outgrowing people hurts. Outgrowing places hurts. Outgrowing old versions of yourself hurts most of all. But staying the same hurts longer. I lost connections I thought were permanent. I stepped away from spaces that no longer fit who I was becoming. Loneliness returned—but this time, it was different. This loneliness felt honest. It didn’t come from abandonment; it came from alignment. I learned that being alone while growing is far healthier than being surrounded while shrinking. Strength, I discovered, isn’t loud. It doesn’t announce itself. It doesn’t demand recognition. Strength shows up quietly, day after day, in the choices you make when no one is watching. It shows up when you keep going even though the results are slow. When you forgive yourself for falling back into old habits. When you choose patience with yourself instead of punishment. There were setbacks—many of them. I stumbled. I doubted myself. I wondered if I was doing everything wrong. But this time, I didn’t collapse and wait for someone else to fix the damage. I picked myself up. Again and again. And something unexpected happened as I kept choosing myself: the world didn’t suddenly become easier, but I became stronger. Problems that once felt unbearable became manageable. Pain that once consumed me became something I could sit with without losing myself. I stopped asking, Why is this happening to me? I started asking, What can I do with what’s happening? That question changed everything. Today, my life is not perfect. I still have days when old fears resurface. I still feel tired sometimes. I still wish things were easier. But I no longer wait for rescue. I trust myself now. I trust that even if things fall apart, I will be there to put them back together. I trust that my worth doesn’t depend on who shows up for me. I trust that I am capable of building a life that feels like my own. And maybe the most important thing I’ve learned is this: realizing nobody is coming to save you is not a sentence. It’s an invitation. An invitation to stop shrinking. An invitation to take responsibility for your healing. An invitation to become the person you’ve been waiting for. If you’re reading this and you feel stuck—if you feel invisible, exhausted, or quietly breaking—I want you to know this: you are not weak for waiting. You were doing the best you could with what you knew. But you don’t have to wait anymore. Sometimes, saving yourself doesn’t mean changing everything. It means choosing yourself once—then choosing yourself again tomorrow. And one day, you’ll look back and realize that the moment nobody came was the moment your life truly began.Start writing...
By Ihtisham Ulhaq6 days ago in Motivation
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