This is hard.


I am sitting at my laptop, in my office, Bath & Body Works 3-wick candle lit (as if that’s going to magically calm me down or something).


I have been putting this off for months, and months. It has been 9 months since I last blogged. I could have conceived and birthed a child in the amount of time I have been procrastinating this blog. I could have completed a full grade of schooling in the amount of time I procrastinated this bog. I could… be procrastinating even further by giving you stupid contextual examples of how long nine months rather than just telling you why I stopped blogging(guilty).


I love writing. I always have.

It comes naturally for me. Even now, when my anxiety is through the roof, it feels cathartic to let the words come out of my messy brain and on to the screen.


Most of my life I have been

  1. Someone who feels all of the feels, all of the time.
  2. Someone who feels lonely, a lot.
  3. Someone who feels judged and misunderstood, a lot.


Writing was my remedy.

It helped me understand, validate, and move past my feelings. It helped me connect with other by sharing my experiences and finding others with shared experiences. It allowed me to explain myself, to share more than what people see on the surface or think they know about me.


Last year, I failed myself as a writer and blogger.

As more people started to read, I started to think “What do people want to read?” instead of “What do I want to write?” I wrote how-tos and listicles- I stopped being candid, I stopped being myself, I stopped really sharing my stories. I wrote what I thought I was supposed to.


From there I started looking at the numbers- how many view, visitors, and likes my stuff was getting and letting that determine the quality of my work, over how I felt. Eventually, I just gave up. I told myself I needed a break, I’d get back to it. I did not get back to it. I failed.


I cannot tell you how many days I put “write something” on my to do list, probably 50+ times.  It was not until I decided what I want this blog to be that I took myself seriously when I wrote write something on my to do list.


Last year taught me the ONLY reason to do this blog is if it brings joy. To others of course, but it has to bring me joy as well. If I keep writing horse shit to do lists and things that do not mean anything to me or make me happy at all, there is no way I will keep writing.


On this new website I hope to be able to expand from this blog to provide more fitness/nutrition content. For now, this is where I start, again.

This is what this blog to be…

This blog is going to be my story.

It’s going to be candid.

There will be curse words.

It will be my thoughts, my experiences, my highs, and my lows.

I will share advice and takeaways from said experiences.

It’s not always going to be nice or happy.

It’s not always going to be all about fitness and health (most of the time it probably won’t be).

It will be a tool for me to connect with you and for you to connect with me and other women.


I’m nervous, er, terrified to get back to writing– but that’s a great sign that it is what I need to do. Thank you for coming along for the ride.

Here we fucking go, again.



P.S. OMG I WROTE SOMETHING! Shouts out to the Bath & Body Works 3-wick candle for making this happen!


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