Confession: I’m Not There Yet

So I put up my first real post on my first real blog earlier this week, opening up about some of the issues that I struggle with.  I hit “publish”, held my breath, and waited…and I didn’t have to wait long.

The responses came quickly and were overwhelmingly full of love and support.  From high school friends, to LA friends, to my special Ojai friends–each one was  filled with messages of empathy (“I can relate”), compassion (“Hang in there”), and encouragement (“So proud of your bravery”).  It was exactly the reassurance I needed after sharing such personal thoughts.  One of my favorite coworkers even posted a lovely message on my FB timeline that caused me to bask in the warmth that this experience has brought me.

Until I realized that it was on FB.  Where all of my friends, and clients, and family are.  Where I haven’t shared this blog.  Or any of the information contained within.  Once this panic started, the questions started popping up at me, one after the other, like those pop-up videos they used to play on VH1:

-What if my coworkers see this comment and ask me about my blog?

-What if my family does, and question what she referred to?

-What if everyone starts talking about it?

-What if they all find out what I have shared?

-What are they going to think of me if they know my issues?

-What if they think I’m not good enough to do my job?

-What if they think I’m not good enough to be friends with?

What if they think I’m not good enough???

Putting up this blog, and sharing it through Twitter, felt like a huge leap of faith for me.  Just acknowledging these imperfections took me so far outside my comfort zone.  But I’m now understanding that the true test is sharing this, sharing me, with the people closest to me.  It’s allowing them to read what I have written.  It’s telling them in person all that I have shared with strangers.

I’m not sure that I’m there yet.  I do want to be.  I realize that I’m shortchanging my relationships with friends and family by not trusting them with who I really am.  I’m not allowing them to offer me the support that I would so readily offer them.  I need to give them the chance to be there for me.  I have to learn how to receive love.

I want to get there.  I WILL GET THERE. 

In the words of one of my fave Kelly Clarkson songs (yup, I love Kelly Clarkson) “Everybody’s got a dark side.  Do you love me?  Can you love mine?”

Here’s hoping…



Confession: I Am Not Perfect

My imperfect “tree in a tree”…imperfect and still pretty awesome.

Why are some imperfections in our lives so easy to share with others, whereas others are buried so deeply that we almost forget they are a part of us?


I have a serious candy addiction.

I love getting my hair blown out. So much that it’s probably also an addiction.

I will hashtag anything. My friends staged a #HashtagIntervention this summer.

I am very particular. I order food like Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally.

I am not naturally inclined towards yoga; my body just does NOT want to do most of those poses.

These are all quirks of my personality that any of my friends can attest to; even those who follow me on Twitter know them. I’ve always thought of myself as an open book because I share funny, self-deprecating anecdotes about my life–sometimes with virtual strangers.

But what about the things I have never shared with anyone?

I never feel “normal”.

Sometimes when I’m adjusted in a yoga pose, it’s the only time someone has touched me all day. It can reduce me to tears.

I think the way I treated my sister when we were younger has contributed to her struggles, and could impact our relationship permanently. I worry we will never get past our past.

I am still haunted by a breach of trust that happened 15 years ago. It devastated me, and it affects my ability to trust everyone.

Every now and then I hibernate–lock the door, turn off my phone, and spend 2 days completely by myself at home. When friends ask about my weekend, I give vague answers so they don’t know that I did nothing, saw no one.

I struggle every single day with what I eat. It’s usually too much or too little based on my perception of my weight or my emotional state that day. It’s consuming, exhausting and often very isolating. It’s disordered.

I have an eating disorder.

As I work towards living with a more open heart, it feels crucial that I finally say these things out loud–to myself and to other people. And to own them by putting my name to them. These pieces that aren’t pretty, but are a part of me.

And it’s time I start dealing with them.

**NOTE:  This was originally posted on Jennifer Pastiloff’s blog since I was unable to get the words out on my own.  That little push towards openness was all I needed to feel the love and support of so many people.  See these comments if you are skeptical!  For me, opening up provided a release, and allowed me to let myself be imperfect without feeling like a failure.  I encourage you to open up about one of your imperfections and feel the support that pours in.  You always have mine.



Confession: I Have No Idea What I’m Doing

Ojai, California.  10.21.12.  Where this story starts…

I have been contemplating starting a blog for months now (I know, me and everyone else you know), but could not decide what I wanted the blog to be about.  Should I focus on my new love, yoga?  Should I talk more about the old ones, blowouts and beauty products?  Showcase pictures of traveling and the beach, or write tributes to my beloved Miami Hurricanes?  Should it be funny, sarcastic, upbeat, serious?!?!

I decided to go with E. All of the Above.

I recently went on a Manifestation Retreat with one of my favorite yoga teacher/writer/inspiration leader/human beings, Jennifer Pastiloff, and realized that I have been shutting off a part of myself for many, many years.  I couldn’t cry, I couldn’t open up, I wanted to always be the STRONG one with the (outwardly) amazing life.  My connections with my beautiful new friends that weekend were mostly based on supporting THEIR struggles, and not disclosing my own.  The retreat led to an “AHA” moment a day later:

I could not admit to the imperfections in my life.  To myself, or to anyone else.

I started “confessing” them, first to Jen, and then to her blog readers.  The support they shared left me speechless, and I realized I wanted that connection with more people.  Thus the concept of this blog evolved.  My first real blog will be what I guest-blogged through Jen, and is my first step to living more honestly, building trust, and dealing with my sh*t.

I’m sure there is another singing, traveling, sports-loving, girlie yogi out there somewhere who will want to see this this journey unfold.  Hopefully everyone else will find something to identify with, or just something to support.

So here goes…