OK, I’ll admit it: I daydream about getting my big break. Catching the eye of some well-placed luminary and being given the chance to spread my message everywhere they’ll let me, across media, across boundaries, all over the world. But there’s a question I’ve been asked by a few readers and acquaintances that I’m certain would surface in daytime talk shows and on-the-spot interviews, and that question always clouds my daydreams.
Originally posted 2011-03-31 06:33:56.
Many years ago, a friend mentioned in passing that she never wore shorts because of her fat knees. I had never given the girth of my own knees a single solitary thought, but I immediately began scrutinizing them. And yes, they were saggy and weird and kinda fat-looking. Now, I had something new to worry about.
Over the course of this blog, I’ve received several comments and e-mails instructing me to “get a tan.” Rather forcefully and with the implication that my pasty whiteness was an absolute affront. It had never occurred to me that my pale skin was marking me as an unstylish person. Now, I had something new to worry about.*
Originally posted 2011-08-04 06:08:24.
Happiness is hard. I don’t want it to be, but it is. Growing up I took my happiness for granted, sauntering through each day unencumbered by anxiety, self-consciousness, and doubt, never guessing that once I finally became an adult I’d often struggle to feel content, joyous, and serene. The adult world is full of debt and responsibility, comparison and fear, confusion, judgment, tough decisions, and failure. The adult world can transform happiness into a rare commodity, and many of us struggle to capture it.
Originally posted 2011-07-06 06:12:01.