do you ever feel like no matter what you do or where you go in the world, there are just things that don’t fit? Maybe you don’t fit in with those around you perfectly, you keep fucking up at work, you can’t seem to make relationships last or commit to the bit of sustainable self-care. Yeah . . .  that’ll happen! Like sometimes things are going really well, it’s easy to be proud of yourself, and making scary moves doesn’t feel so gut-wrenching. Other times, shit SUCKS. Soooo bad. And it’s so hard to move forward and you wonder why you do it all and it just fucking sucks. 

Welllll that’s why I’m writing this. I’ve felt all of these things and have gone to therapy and committed to exercise and ate bad and good and felt good about my style and not and gotten a degree but fucked up at work blah blah blah blah. No one cares. What we do care about is the shared experience of living, suffering, thriving, trying, failing, seeking, listening, hurting, and loving. THAT is what this blog is for. The heart of this blog is all of our experiences, especially those we don’t share with anyone. The experiences that exist in your mind and in your heart, the ones you know are real and the ones that you would have a hard time explaining to others. Maybe they wouldn’t get how you feel, or you think you might explain it wrong, or you think they wouldn’t believe you, or to explain it you have to sound dumb, or look bad, or bend the truth, etc. The thing is, ALL of that is so important to feel and look at and HOLD fully. Those are the pieces of living that are messy, blurry, uncertain, uncomfortable. 

It’s a bit like when you look back at pictures of yourself from 7th grade, and you’re wearing that outfit that’s all Nike and matching and basketball socks and a headband that really was NOT made for someone with your head shape. And you look at your mom like, “why the fuck would you let me where that?” and then she says “you were cute! I wanted to let you be yourself and wear what you wanted,” and then you roll your eyes because goddamn the headband is fugly but also your mom is feminist and empowering so whatever. Without looking back at those pictures, you couldn’t see where you had come from. While I would never choose to show people EVERYTHING bad about myself, to see that is to laugh and to hold space for a part of myself that existed and allowed me to grow into who I am today.

On my journey of self-acceptance (ongoing), I have taken many tests about myself to better understand, in a sense, what the fuck is wrong with me (I’m just kidding, I really am working on positive self-talk and that was a joke). Truthfully, there is nothing WRONG with me. I don’t want to wear anyone’s skin as a mask, I don’t chew with my mouth open, and I certainly don’t grab women by the pussy, to name a few examples of what people do when there’s something really, really, wrong with them. 

ANYWAY. The tests. And really, the therapy too. I have realized that suffering, to some degree, is inevitable. It doesn’t matter what status of life, the suffering is just served to you differently. Or, as a bonus challenge in life, sometimes you serve it to yourself. You overanalyze things and produce uncertainty and anxiety about a situation that was actually just fine. Unlearning this process honestly sucks, but is so, so worth it. 

This blog is going to be raw, unfiltered, but not un-analyzed. Also, I live in Valencia, Spain, right now, so there will be elements about teaching abroad that come in too. Like I said, the main focus is the deep, dark, corners of our psyche’s, but stories about travel and paella can hopefully break some of that up. 

All love,

Kate