If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me, threatening the life it belongs to*

"The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, 

known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. 

These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, 

and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, 

and a deep loving concern. 

Beautiful people do not just happen."

This is one of my favorite quotes. I like it because I relate to it. I relate to being in the suffering; struggling to make it through the day. I also have started to understand the other side of the quote. The understanding, the deep loving concern - even if those are not reciprocated back to me. I have already blogged about wanting to embody this quote but I wanted to bring the quote back again. 

I'm not sure where this post will end up (when do I ever know where they'll end?). I'm not sure about a lot of things these days, not even what I will be doing tomorrow. Some people may think that it would be exciting to live such an open-ended life. But it's really not. Especially for someone who battles with anxiety and depression........... Well, I guess this post just got personal... 

It's true, I do. I think most of it is when things get thrown off in my life. I have had some really dark days - most of my life has been great and there haven't been awful things like abuse or neglect that have set me off like some people deal with. But the thing is, you can't judge someone's journey by comparing it to someone else's. Again, overall my life has been amazing and most people probably would not understand why I would be so anxious that I have panic attacks or so depressed that I do not get out of bed for weeks. But, there it is. I do. 

There is quite a large stigma about mental illnesses these days, a lot of people do not believe they exist or think they are not that extreme of an illness, but they are. Although depression and anxiety can take control of my life, it does not define who I am. That's part of what makes me a beautiful person, I don't mean on the outside, but on the inside. I have my own battle scars and I have more accomplishments and those are what make me a beautiful person.

Most of the time when I am thrown into these moments of anxiety or depression it is because I'm not expressing myself. Whether I'm not talking to people or even not talking to myself. I don't mean literally talking out loud to myself but writing. Writing has become my sacred place, my sanctuary, in my times of need. Even when I was twelve, agonizing over a ridiculous move from one side of the Atlantic to the other, I wrote. I wrote about how much I hated the move, I wrote about how sad I was leaving my friends, I wrote questions, answers, swears (sorry, Ma!), whatever came to my mind. Writing helped me (and still does help me) sort out some of the thoughts in my head that would otherwise take me captive. 

Mostly because I have moved so many times, I do not enjoy opening up to people. There are three people in my life that know (almost) everything about me. Even within those three, not one of them knows everything. That's just too much for me to handle. That's why I write. Not so that people can read it (although one day I will write a comical best selling book) but so that I can heal. From all the pain in my life, from all of the love I've lost, from all of the love I've thrown away, from all the friends I have lost, from all the friends that have tossed me away... I write to heal. 

I'm not saying that all I need in my life is a pen and paper, but if I did not have those two things a lot of my days would be much darker. The days, or weeks, or even months, in which I have been the most depressed or have had the most anxiety, are the days where I have not been open. Not to anyone specifically, but even to myself. The days I just shut everything off and do not write my feelings are the days that turn into weeks and then months of me coasting through. 

Luckily I have an amazing support system and I can tell when I am going off the deep end, but overall the idea of opening up to a piece of paper gives me the comfort and freedom I need to not let my depression or anxiety take over my life. Some people are not as lucky as I am and I know that but that does not mean what I go through daily is not real. 

The thing is, at the end of the day I have learned that I am strong, I am a fighter, I am courageous, and I can face anything that this world throws at me. Mostly, I am beautiful (no matter what they saaaaayyyy  - had to throw some XTina in there). I am beautiful in the sense that I have seen my way out of suffering, struggling, loss, and the depths of my mind. I have seen myself out of these depths and I plan on continually seeing myself out of them, becoming more beautiful every single day. 

Well I'm almost finally, finally... Well I'm free, oh, I'm free*

What is love? 

I'm not asking you to sing that techno song (although I'm sure you all just did). I'm truly asking. What is it? Everyone seems to be obsessed with finding it. There are at least ten different dating reality shows, where everyone expresses their need to find a husband or wife. But what really IS love? 

I'll tell you what it's not.

It's not dependancy. You should miss whoever you are in love with of course or want to be around them but it should not be a dependent relationship where you can't breathe without them or can't be by yourself. Love isn't about finding someone who becomes your heroine. You should not desperately need them to the point where you'll do anything for them, even harm yourself. You should never be killing yourself (emotionally or physically) for someone you love. 

Love isn't a secret. It shouldn't be something you don't tell anyone about. {In my opinion it shouldn't be posted all over Facebook either} - but love is not mean to be completely hidden. You should not be in love with someone who doesn't even acknowledge your existence unless you are in private. Love is supposed to be magical and you are supposed to want to share that love with others, you aren't supposed to feel like someone's invisible friend.

Love isn't sad. You shouldn't relate to every Adele/Taylor Swift song about break ups while you are "in love." Love is not supposed to hurt you. It's not supposed to tear you down or make you feel like a piece of dirt. Love is supposed to lift you up and make you feel invincible. Love is supposed to be enough. Enough to get you threw your hardest battles, it shouldn't be your toughest battle.  

Love shouldn't be a seesaw of "I want you, I don't want you, I don't want to talk to you. I need you. Come back. Go away." It's supposed to be constant, it's not supposed to fail you. Love shouldn't be a constant fight. It shouldn't be a competition of who can get back at the other person more than last time. It's supposed to be a partnership. You should never have to wonder whether or not the other person loves you back. 

Love shouldn't be any of these things, and yet that is the kind of love most people know. That is the kind of love I've known. Not the only love I've known but I've definitely known this kind of love. Sometimes what you think your life with someone is going to look like and the reality of what it really is do not match up. And the next thing you know you're in an awful relationship that no one even knows about. That is not the kind of love anyone should know. 

But honestly, I'm done. I'm letting go and I won't let anyone drag me down again. Life's all about learning, sometimes that means the hard way. Sometimes you have to get hit in the face a few times before you learn to duck, or better yet, put a hand up to block the next hit. Regardless of how you learn, the important part is that you do eventually learn. 

Don't ever accept anything less than what you deserve from anyone. Even if they are your best friend who you've suddenly fallen in love with. Guess what? You'll find a new best friend. You'll find someone else to fall in love with. You will survive. That's the good news. And in the mean time, throw on some Adele and start moving on. 

Fall in love. Not lust. Don't be apart of a destructive relationship of "love" that I just described because it's not what anyone deserves. Don't get attached to someone who isn't worth a minute of your time, and don't hold on just because you are scared to let go, because you can't get to the next monkey bar without letting go of the one you're on.  

There are few things pure in this world anymore, and home is one of the few*

Although I have already posted about Budapest and my time there, I need to write more about it. The thing is, I think about that city every single day. I dream about returning and living there. I dream about sitting at a cafe outside the Buda Castle and looking over the Danube River. I dream about shopping at West End or in Mamut. I dream about the food: goulash, paprikás csirke, chocolate croissants at Cafe Gerbeaud. I dream about my old school and what it would be like to work there one day... I dream about hearing the language and seeing the people that I dearly miss. I miss all these things and think about them daily but I haven't lived there in ten whole years. Ten. Years... 

If I'm being honest I will never love a city as much as I love Budapest, Hungary; between the people, the food, the buildings that city will always have 90 percent of my heart. 

Leaving was the hardest thing that I have ever gone through and 

broke my little 12 year old heart more than words can express. 

The point of this post however is not to remember Budapest, it's to tell you something that has happened in that ten year gap I've been living in... I have realized that I feel at home again. Here. In Falmouth. 

This is something I hate to admit (no offense) because spending the first twelve years of my life traveling the world with my family and seeing so many different cultures was unbelievable and amazing... To return from that unreal lifestyle and land in a small town where some people have asked if European was a language was my worst nightmare... But the thing is while I've been playing sports, lounging by the ocean, going to school, watching TV; something magical has happened for me... I have started to feel at home in this small little town. I'm not sure when it happened or what really did it, but here I am; living in one place for more than five years and I'm happy. I'm content. I feel at home. I keep saying this because it's truly a miracle that I feel this way. 

My heart has ached most of my life for a place to call home, although I loved every moment of my crazy nomadic life, a part of me always wondered what it would be like to know someone for my entire life, or a town for that long (grass is always greener I know). But now I feel like I kind of know how that feels. Even though I still get lost in Mashpee Commons every time I go there (something that would have been solved if I spent my adolescent weekends there) and I haven't known anyone here (except my family) since kindergarten, but I still have known this town and these people longer than I've known anywhere or anyone else. 

Most of this is because I have an amazing family just minutes away from me and I have found friends who truly care about me (both at college and at home). This family I'm talking about took me in when I was alone and miserable with no friends on this side of the Atlantic Ocean. This family is my family, but they are all more than that, they are my friends as well. I've written about the love that my family shares before but I truly can't express how great it feels to have them in my life. I can't imagine where I'd be if I didn't have them when I landed here as an awkward 12 year old. It is truly inexplainable and I will be eternally grateful for each of my cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents for loving me so much. At any rate, I know that these past ten years have been rough and I have had to forgive a lot of people (even though they haven't said sorry) for ripping me away from my city; but in that time (even the darkest days) I have come to find a home here. And that's all I've ever wanted. 

It will be exactly ten years ago on Sunday that I boarded the plane from Budapest with tears in my eyes, drowning all the sounds out with my NOW CD, and landed here in Falmouth. I still can't believe how long it's been, I also can't believe how much I've grown and changed but I'm so grateful for the journey.... Maybe it's because I finally have a concrete plan to move back to Budapest that it is making me feel okay about saying I feel at home here or maybe it's just because I have never come close to living in one place this long but regardless of the reason, one day when I'm not living near the beach I will long to be back near it, maybe not as much as I long for Budapest, but I will definitely long for it and that is something truly special for me.

I am truly grateful for this whirlwind of an adventure that I call my life, 

and I can't wait to see where I am in the next ten years.

 I know at least one of those years will be spent back in the city that has my heart,

 but in the meantime I'm starting to feel okay saying Falmouth is my home. 

We're happy, free, confused, and lonely at the same time, it's miserable and magical oh yeah*

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Where do you work?" 

"Did you graduate?" 

"What do you want to do with the rest of your life?"

These are the sort of questions I get every day. Why, you might ask? Because... I'm 22. And for some reason no one told me that your early twenties is one of the most confusing times of your life! All my life I assumed I would have it all figured out by now. I figured I would be married, living in a cute apartment, have my dream job... Basically be settled. Like the cast of Friends! But the only thing that is "settled" in my life is that I am 22. 

I need to write this to warn the rest of the girls out there because I was not prepared. Here's the thing, be prepared to be in limbo. I'm currently living at home with no idea as to what I want to do with my life, working as a waitress. Don't get me wrong I like waitressing and it's a fine job to have, but it's not my dream job. The worst part is I don't know what my dream job is. Do you know how annoying that is?? Because according to society and the media, and everyone you talk to... This is the time to figure it out and become whoever you're supposed to be forever. But I don't know what I want to do. I do know I love to travel. I know I love kids. I know I love being funny (act like I'm not). I know I love writing. BUT GUESS WHAT?? There isn't a job that combines all those things with a salary that can support my online shopping addiction. So here I am. A waitress. 

I was also under the impression (mostly thanks to RomComs and Disney) that I would be married to a prince at this point in my life (castle and all). But, as a 22 year old, the extent of romance in my life is the relationship I have with Lindor Truffles. Seriously. Of course some girls have boyfriends or husbands at this age... But for me, the idea of getting married right now sounds about as appealing as vomiting for three hours and then swimming in the vomit. I am not ready for a relationship. Not ready to date another 22 year old who has no idea what he wants to be. Not ready to be committed to one person for the rest of my 70+ years on this Earth. Plus, the problem with your twenties is most of the guys out there are in their bachelor mode, which is fine... (Because maybe I'm in bachelorette mode!). Or they are afraid you're going to become attached and fall in love. So most likely they ignore you, or love you and leave you. Truly, this is okay though, because I just compared marriage to a pool of vomit, but companionship doesn't have to be as confusing as it is in your twenties. But it is. And at this stage in the game, the good ones are usually taken. Because they have a job and know what they want in a girl, and some lucky girl has snatched them up. The rest are bunched with me and my fellow companions in the limbo land of no romance (not to say the single people are bums because I'm single and I'm obviously a catch, but you understand). Non-twenty-something-year-olds... Take a tip from me: Asking a 20-something year old their relationship status and then saying something like "Oh you'll find someone soon" is not a constructive statement. Most likely they are either: Coming out of a relationship, totally happy with where they are, or petrified of commitment. Telling them someone is right around the corner is not comforting. 

I'm also in limbo because I'm this independent woman who can do anything she wants in the world, because it's my oyster........ Who lives with her parents. And believe me I like it. I just spent the better part of a year paying for an awful, wallpapered, ghetto apartment that I honestly didn't like. So financially it is fabulous. I can save my money for more important things like classes (shoes!), my car insurance (clothes!), and gas (alcohol!). Okay, for real, I'm not spending all my money because I'm trying to be an adult, but it puts me in this limbo stage again, because my parents still have a say in what I do on a day to day basis, because I live with them. But I'm also old enough to make my own decisions. So I never know if I should ask to go out with a friend or if I can just go. Or if I can just stay in bed watching Netflix all day or if I have chores to do. You see the weirdness? I love living at home and not pouring money down the drain on my first apartment, but I also kinda miss the independence from time to time. 

Most 22 year olds are coming out of college, ready to become an adult - pretty much over the whole party hardy college scene. They're looking for a job, trying to figure out their next step, struggling to become their dream. But almost every weekend, while these 22 year olds are out in the real world, they miss the college life. They miss having friends literally five steps away, they miss letting loose and having fun knowing they don't have responsibilities again until Monday afternoon in class. They miss naps. Let me tell you, naps is what I miss most about college. When you are a 20-something year old, you have responsibilities. You have to get up and work (sometimes on a weekend) and you can't really let go as much as you did in your teens. And you definitely don't get a three hour nap in the middle of your day anymore. Plus most of the BFFs you made in college are home in their hometowns dealing with similar things (too far to hug but close enough to like each others' Facebook statuses about struggling through life)... The worst kind of college friend is the one who found their dream job and is living the glamorous life in NYC with a beautiful male model for a boyfriend. Don't worry though, even those girls don't have it all figured out. Most likely they are poor. So you go girl, saving your money and living with mom and dad! If they aren't poor then you're right, they win. 

The thing is, I'm going through a quarter-life crisis, when I thought everything would be figured out by now. But as much as the eight year old me may be disappointed that Aladdin and I aren't flying away on a magic carpet right now, the 22 year old me is happy. Sure I'm also miserable, confused, lonely, stressed, ecstatic, and hopeful... But that's the magical part about being 22, nothing is final. No feeling, no emotion, no decision. It's all about change and reinventing yourself. And that really is magical. 

So cheers to all you other 20-something year olds. Live it up. Make rash decisions. Dream big. Don't take anything too seriously. And above all, love your life! Because it's the only thing that is only yours! 

And let them go, let them fly, holding back won't turn back time, believe me, I've tried*

So, here I am again. Some of you may be thinking "same place as she was two years ago." But that's not true. I'm not the same broken girl that took a semester off two years ago. I am currently a brave, strong woman who is doing the very best thing for herself - I am giving myself time. 

Time to figure myself out. Without a time limit. Without pressure. Without so much hurt. I'm figuring out that it is okay to not know who I am. I'm only 22, this is the time when I am supposed to feel lost, confused, thrilled, upset, reckless, stable, unstable, joyful, utterly sorrowful... All at the same time if I want; this is my time to feel. 

It's scary to be taking time off of school again, and it may sound silly to some people or stupid even since I only had a semester left. In all honesty, I doubt I would have made it out of that semester alive; physically or mentally. For some reason where I went to school sucked a lot of my spirit out of me, as well as a lot of my happiness. This may sound dramatic but it is absolutely true. I lose myself there. I lose the very essence of who I am, not that I know all of who I am yet, but every bit of me disappears there. It's not that over winter breaks, or while I'm home I magically become this perfect person, but, I am saying that when I am up there; away from everything that makes me whole; it's not pretty. 

The truth is I have never, EVER been able to call any one place home; moving upwards of ten times before I was in high school kind of helped that process. I've had many houses, but none of those have been home. I've never stayed in one place long enough to say "that's where I took my first step" or "that's where I scraped my knee while chasing my brother." If I wanted to find those places I would have to take a mini vacation and do some serious traveling. And yet, even though I did not grow up here, every time I walk into my current house I feel it. That feeling children always described growing up. I feel at home. Which is weird for me. It feels strange. But it also feels safe. I feels so incredibly safe here. I know I am loved and cared for and that no matter how royally I screw up that I can come here. I know this because I have screwed up quite a bit in my short 22 years on Earth, and here I am. I also know this is a rare thing to feel, and I feel so blessed to have it. Now I'm not dumb, I know the reason I feel this way is because of the people in the house, not the actual house, but nonetheless it is a great feeling to finally have back in my life. 

A lot of you probably think this is a step back - I assure you, it is not. It is a gigantic leap forward. It's a gigantic leap of faith. Faith in myself, in my family, in how much I want to change. And as scary as that is, I also feel that it is for the best. I know I will finish my degree, this time next year I will have my degree in hand. But the most important part of that statement is that this time next year there is a hand to hold that degree. It is most important that I am here - alive and happy - than if I have a degree or not. Life is truly too short to be anything but happy. It's foolish to be miserable. It's foolish to be upset. 

I have no regrets. As much as there are things in my life I wish I did not have to go through, I know and believe they happened for a reason and they made me who I am today. When I started this blog two years ago (almost to the day) I was broken and hurt and angry and lost. Again, I am not saying that right now at this moment I have everything figured out - but I am saying that this time, leaving was my decision. And that says a lot about how much I have grown. I am finally able to recognize a destructive environment and I am able to get myself out of it.

Who knows what lies in my future - clearly I do not, but that's the whole point of life - to explore, to mess up, to laugh at your mistakes, to learn from them, to explore again, to mess up again, to experience love, to experience heart break, to get up and move on, to become better, to go out on a limb, to jump off of that limb, to learn to fly, then to soar, and to continue to explore more and more. Life is all about the journey, and how amazing you want your life to be is up to no one else but you. I find that exciting! Scary, sure. But mostly invigorating!

I started this blog with the idea of becoming fearless and as much as I think I have started to become that and potentially have reached some part of that, this next chapter in my life is going to be based on becoming beautiful. Some of you may think "does that mean you're going to beauty school?!" No. It doesn't, it means I am going to embody this quote... 

“The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. 

These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. 

Beautiful people do not just happen.” 

Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

I understand the defeat, the suffering, the struggle, and the loss she begins her quote with and I've started to find myself out of those depths but the next step is to embody the compassion, gentleness, and deep loving concern she ends her quote with. That's the goal to, at some point in the future (with no time limit!), embody a truly beautiful person. 

So here's to new beginnings and fresh starts, because (as my girl Tay Swift says) today is never too late to be brand new.