IntrovertedMedia

Anywhere I turn, there is bad news. Violence, screaming, crying, and even on more of a home hit, people disagreeing over absolutely everything. It gets to the point where you can’t sign into any one platform of social media without some kind of backlash, snarky meme, and people you know-but-don’t-really-know putting in their opinion. I’ve never found that I’m all-in when it comes to weighing in. Nothing is completely black and white to where I’d be able to throw out an opinion and hope I’ve got it all covered. Every time I think I’ve got an opinion sorted, God lets me meet someone to show me that I’m wrong, and how that my way of thinking could really hurt/upset that person, who is, a really good person.
The only time I see the news is at the gym. And every day this week, it’s been nothing but apocalyptic-type reports. Between more frequent duty days, friends being deployed, reports of more fighting, I did what any typical military wife would do: I shut down my social media and even blocked some people. This is a time to be private, right? This is a time to not share.
While this isn’t a time to correct, this is a time to offer a listening ear.
While this isn’t a time to teach, it is a time to reflect.
While this isn’t a time to lecture, it’s a time to grow personally.
This is a time to use your gifts as a blessing to others. You can calm others. You can inspire others to grow and open. You can ripple stagnant waters.
Between screenshots, mutual friends, picbear, looking over other user’s shoulders, and even sharing passwords (ew! creepy!) the ONLY way for others not to see your social media is to not have it at all. Really, that’s your only option.
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Beauty in Imperfection

There is no such thing as perfect, but we live in a culture that claims that it exists. Currently, this is the second time I’ve tried to write this post. Call me a conspiracy theorist, but it just “magically” dissapeared for no reason. So eff off inter-webs, I’m going to write my Goddamn piece whether you like it or not. I’m going to tell people, everyone, that they don’t have to be perfect to be good people, or be attractive. I’m going to let women know that they don’t have to look sixteen forever to be beautiful. I’m going to tell men that that they don’t have to look like a juiced up Ken doll to look attractive. People need to know that they can be beautiful without an insane amount of plastic surgery. So your shitty industry can kiss our cute asses. Asses that haven’t been injected with chemical-laden junk produced in your sterile lab. ANYWAY.

Beauty is found in imperfection. The only thing we can rely on is change, and move with it instead of fighting against it. It’s a far cry from 17, and sometimes I tear up going through photos, but we need to stay out of our “it’s just gone” mentality. You are not gone. You are still here. You are a little different, but you’re here.

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Back to Basics

The Basics. Why I started this blog in the first place.To share my photos. To share my work and create some art along the way. I didn’t think that art was something that was created until it was finished, and then you realized it was art– it just came about as you worked at it consistently.

As with most things, it morphed, and changed, and grew into…something that I wasn’t even sure of. A short six years ago, we were told to “brand” ourselves, to give people something more to come back to other than photos, to put ourselves out there and dig deep into our psyche to write informative but personal but not too crazy but eclectic but funny but general but interesting posts. Every week. So I did partake.

Ugh, boy, did that make a trap for me. It became consuming and overwhelming and…blogging is supposed to be fun, right? Which leads to ALL the pots on the stove boiling over, meaning…nervous breakdown. These come in many different forms! Read on for the process and results, and getting back up again…
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Cast Your Care

Lost in everything and nothing, this time blends together like a Delaware gradient sunset and I’m left turning the calendar pages and wondering how we got here so quickly. How disappointing to live to impress others, when the ones you really want to impress have loved you all along.
This afternoon I was talking with two of my girlfriends…we were discussing the role of makeup in our lives, and their daughter’s lives. Their daughters are both only 11, and seem to be wise beyond their years (homeschool, thanks…) and eager and ready to grow up and look more feminine like their own moms. But why? What does wearing makeup actually DO for us? Does it serve us? Or are we trying to impress people we don’t even know, or trying to impress people we don’t even like? It’s a scary thought, especially in today’s haphazard, unpredictable world. I related it back to myself, hoping to help these girls see that proving your worth is difficult as well as confusing, and in the end, not worth it to “need ” to prove yourself.
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