Obsessed

I have been obsessing lately. Obsessing over my body, over my appearance and over my outward appeal. Obsessing to the point where today when showering I just decided to say “fuck ’em all.” I am who I am, this is what I look like and I am honest in my presentation of myself. I have never lied about what I look like or the type of person I am and the older I get, the more upfront I’ve become. My Tinder profile even gives a warning that if strong, “fire” independent women intimidate you, swiping left would be your best bet. And yet…

Guys still seem to think that I’m joking. I’ve had two guys waste my time in the past few months. One of them was so appealing but I kept thinking that he was too nice. What I realized about a week ago was that it wasn’t his niceness that was bugging me, it was his immaturity and indecision. I don’t like playing games [when I feel like the games are going to lead us into a black hole of nothingness]. I like when people are upfront with me. I like when people can withstand the storm and force of nature that I am. I like people who are not weak and who are not easily discouraged. I expect a high level of communication within relationships, especially when I am being honest and upfront.

The second guy who falls into the category of #WasteHerTime2016 seemed to be able to handle me. But in the words of many a woman, talk is literally the cheapest form of affection/attention that men can give. Talk means nothing. Let me reiterate that for people who may still be confused. Talk without action means absolutely, literally nothing. Nada. Niente. Zip. Zilch. What even? No matter how many times you call me on the phone, no matter how many snapchats and text messages you send me, if you cannot commit to actually hanging out and interacting like a normal human being, then you are out. You have officially wasted my time and it’s time for me to cut the cord.

These odd interactions with boys (because let’s face it, this is the type of behavior that men do not engage in) has brought me to a level of obsession. Particularly with the second one. I was at the gym yesterday and saw him for the third time in a week – I had never seen him in my daily activities before, we just spoke on the phone and snap chatted almost daily – and I flipped the fuck out. I was scared. Scared for him to see me because I had just endured a long and somewhat grueling workout and I didn’t look my best. I thought my thighs looked fat and cottage-cheese like and I felt gross. My friend told me that she was convinced I had body dysmorphic disorder.

“What the fuck are you talking about? You look so muscular and literally nothing jiggles. Where do you feel
something is jiggling?” [I point to my thighs which are sticking out of short shorts and proceed to grab the inner thigh fat] “Here. Literally this whole section of my legs.” She sighs and states again that I have body dysmorphic disorder and I’m acting ridiculous but volunteers to grab our things so that I don’t have to walk by said person. I ended up running by the window anyway because she couldn’t figure out what locker we used.

This morning in the shower I realized the absurdity of it all. Why am I hiding from someone who knows what I look like? Why am I hiding from someone who hasn’t even proved their worth to me? Why am I ashamed of what I look like when I haven’t lied about it at all? What is going on? Where is my confidence and my faith in myself? Where is my self-respect? I contemplated all of these things and realized once again that my self-worth is determined by myself.

My friend shared a great quote from Anna Kendrick with me yesterday. She stated, “Something amazing happened to me when I hit my mid-20’s. I stopped liking guys who didn’t like me back. In fact, I stopped liking guys who were bad people.” Okay, so I put the emphasis on “bad people” but only because that’s the part that my friend emphasized and that’s the part that I need to emphasize for myself and for anyone else reading this. Bad people are people who waste your time (not just lead you on, these are separate things in my opinion) and they’re people who make you question how beautiful and valuable you are. They’re also people who make you feel like the whole of your worth lies within how jiggly (or not jiggly) your thighs are.

Self love, respect and worth are things that only we can give ourselves. No one can make you believe that you are valuable except yourself. They can tell you how gorgeous and intelligent and worth it you are but if you don’t believe it then their words will fall flat. That being said, having friends who tell you all of these things and mean them is a necessity in life, in my opinion. They are the keepers. They are the ones that will truly hold you down. It’s nice to see yourself the way the world and those close to you see you. I believe that’s key for self-confidence.

This morning I realized that I need to stop obsessing over how people who don’t matter and who probably will not ever matter to me see me. I need to continue living my bright, beautiful, confident life. I need to stop accepting “bad people” into my karmic circle and I need to remember to cut people lose as soon as I realize they’re wasting my time. The only thing I should be obsessing over right now is my school work, my wonderful friends and mother and how amazing I am.

xx Morgan

i miss you.

I miss you and I hate it.

How can I miss someone that has been so cruel to me?

How can I miss someone that I feel like I barely know?

And yet

I know you all too well.

You have shown me your true colors over and over again

and the girl in me refused to believe you.

The woman in me sees it so clearly though.

As if you’re a vase made of crystal sitting on the table in the foyer.

I can’t look away, I can’t ignore you and I see you every time I come home.

You are showing me your true colors more and more and they are ugly.

Vomit green, poop brown, black hole black ugly.

Speaking of black holes, how did you manage to suck in someone like me?

How do I always manage to get sucked into these universes

that require me to rebuild myself?

How do I always manage to go up in flames?

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, I fell for your tricks, trapped through lust.

You were a slow burning fire and I didn’t know you were there until it was too late.

And here I am now, missing you and hating it.

Trying not to hate myself.

Trying to give myself grace for caring for someone who clearly cares not for me.

 

Sex Symbol

I am not the girl he wants. I am not the girl who gets the guy. This is a narrative that I have told myself over and over again until one day I decided that I was “over it.”

“I’m over it.”

It’s my defense mechanism. My way of saying that I am physically and emotionally exhausted. I am over feeling as though my life is a race to the altar. I’m over feeling as though the sole reason I exist is to be some sort of sex symbol for the male race. That is not why I am here. I am much more than my curves and my witticisms and my sexy smirks and sidelong glances. I am more than coy. I am more than what my body can do for you.

It’s a trap that society has taught us as women. “I don’t want to be a sex symbol because a sex symbol is a thing. I don’t want to be a thing,” quoted Marilyn Monroe. I used to think that it was sexy to be a sex symbol and now I am reaffirming that I was wrong. The pressure is too great and not worth it in the least bit.

Sure I want to be one of the great beauties of the world. Yes, I workout in some small part because I want to slay every time I step out the door. I want to turn heads at the coffee shop, the gym and the bar. I want the man I’m with to literally thank God that I picked him. So sue me. But I do not want to be confined to that category. I don’t want to have this contractual agreement to be the Cool Girl. The Cool Girl does not exist. She is a myth and she does not exist. I’m fucking around with guys who think that she’s real. Who don’t see me for who I fully am. Who take for granted what’s sitting right in front of them. And so I’m over it.

I’m over caring and trying and primping and posing. I’m over giving into the facade of the Cool Girl because I know that she’s not real and I know that she’s all they will ever see if I continue to keep up this charade. But also, I’m over it so that means that the facade may stay in place.

I can’t continue to care in the same way that I do; I don’t have the capacity to keep this up. It is tiring and it is worthless. And so I shall continue working on parts of myself for me and I shall continue building up the facade of the sex symbol so that I can retreat behind it’s cold doors until I feel as though I no longer need to be over it. I will work my butt off in hiding and solitude until I feel as though I’ve met someone worthy enough to break the wall. Only then will the Cool Girl really disappear.

xxMorgan

Tattooed Emotions

My emotions rest on my skin.

I feel them forming, one by one, slowly drawing themselves.

A little heart there on my finger, a little smile on my neck, a kiss on my shoulder.

A small hand on my thigh, another kiss on my waist…

I can’t seem to stop them from appearing

A smirk on my third eye, a frown on my wrist hidden until flipped.

A river flowing down my spine symbolizes all of the tears that I have and have yet to cry.

I am full of emotions.

My eyes watch you with disdain and confusion and joy.

I am only partly here.

I want to be immersed in this world of ours but if I do I will acquire more tattoos.

I feel myself tightening up, my lips are closed, my thoughts are wild

I cannot let you in anymore than you can give me what I crave.

My emotions rest on my skin and I cover up in cloth, too afraid to let you in.

Late Night Thoughts

Late night thoughts. They’re how so many of my songs were born. Even if I wasn’t writing them at night, I was thinking something past eleven pm that ended up in ink in a notebook or on a scrap of paper. Why is it that the blanket of night makes life more unsheltered? It’s like I can go about my day feeling totally fabulous and as soon as I crawl into bed, short and sleep shirt on, I feel the weight of all of my past relationships pressing down on me. I feel like a poem in Rupi Kaur’s Milk and Honey.

I almost named my EP Goodnight, Morgan because of it. Because of the insomniac feeling that hangs over many of the verses but instead I went with Honest Soul. I think that for the EP the latter works well and the image of me as a child, unaware of the heartbreak and success that life would have in store for me, is eerily fitting but I may place a sticky note on Goodnight, Morgan. On my song “Goodnight” I do bring that phrase in at a certain point. Part of me cringes because it’s kind of cheesy but the other part loves it because it’s reminiscent of childhood – specifically my childhood- and innocence, and it’s also that voice telling me to let go, that it’s time for bed and rest. It’s time to put my Honest Soul to rest for the time being.

I’m not sure if people are going to get it but if not, that’s fine. Every good artist has an inside joke (or four) in their music.

I had a lot of anxiety the weeks leading up to this release but after today I feel calm. I feel like everything is going to work out. I still have a few people pleasing tendencies but they’re buried within the even stronger fear of failure. I could care less whether a million people like my songs. Of course I want everyone to like them and be able to relate but that’s not realistic. Realistically speaking, I don’t like every song I hear so it’s irrational to think that everyone will like my music. However, I don’t want to fail. I don’t want this EP to be a bust and I want to have made something that people love and relate to. That they genuinely want to share not just because they know me but in spite of that. The fear of failure is my fear of feeling like I didn’t produce a strong work of art that can hold its own out there in the music industry without me having to explain every line or verse or breath. But I remind myself that I love my music and that there are and will be people out there who love it too.

I’m not saying that all late night thoughts (LNT) are bad, I’m just saying that something about being completely alone in the dead of night can be drowning. I write music during that time to offer myself a life raft. I don’t like feeling helpless or allowing my mind to wander to the darkest parts of chapters that have been long closed or that need to be read through and moved past. I can be debilitating. I do like what those nights produce though and I am thankful for the creativity that dark silence provides. I hope that if you’re reading this you also one day find yourself turning to my songs when your LNT start to take over.

xx Morgan

FitBits, Lifting and Yoga…Oh My!

Part I: FitBit Betch

I have succumbed to the FitBit craze. I’ve held off ever since they came out and I wanted one and I’ve done my research to find the best fitness tracker for my lifestyle. It comes in the form of the FitBit Charge HR (FBCHR). Despite the fact that I freaked out momentarily when I realized that the FitBit Alta comes out this month (and looks SUPER cute!), I am happy with my FitBit choice. I love the FBCHR and I’ve never paid attention to my heart rate before getting my FBCHR. Now I check it constantly to see how my heart rate is doing and to see what makes it rise. Mostly stress or an increase in exertion. Sometimes I’m not even sure what it is, but I’ve discovered that with a heart rate of 63 on average, I’m doing pretty damn well fitness-wise. That’s an excellent HR for women! And this weekend I caught it between 58-61. I realize that I’m bragging about how low my heart rate is and how weird that is so I’m going to stop.

In addition to that super cool feature (something the Alta lacks BTW), I’m also in love with the step tracker and caloric burn count feature. Our bodies are constantly burning calories and it’s nice to see that in front of my face. I know that everyone knows that but I feel like the FitBit gives a more accurate picture that’s a lot more accessible. Plus the step counter is kind of like a game! For all of you who are telling me that my iPhone counts steps, thank you for that knowledge – I already know it- but my phone doesn’t go everywhere that I do alright? I’m trying to ween myself off of it a little.

My FitBit also tracks sleep and I may be one of the few people that actually uses that super cool function. I’m not bothered by wearing my FBCHR to bed but I also take it off and charge it, as well as give my wrist a break, when I wake up. I know the FBCHR has a 5-day life span (supposedly) but I’m like, I’d rather charge it during times when I either can’t wear it (like when I’m in the shower) or when I’m watching a movie or something and don’t need to have it on to measure anything. It’s good to let your wrist breathe sometimes.

I’m still debating whether I’m going to try and wear it to boxing tonight but I feel like it may be a little difficult to wrap my hands and wear my glove with it on. I guess we’ll find out.

Part II: Lifting – Do it!

So I’ve been lifting for about two months now with a friend and we’re doing really well. We’ve stayed on track using the StrongLifts app and I love it! She’s there when I don’t want to workout because I’m tired AF but know I should and I’m there when she doesn’t feel like it but needs it. We keep each other balanced and on point and it’s one of the few workout routines that I appreciate doing with another person. I’m excited to continue to see our progress and sometimes I feel like I can see it in my legs.

For those of you who feel like lifting is intimidating or isn’t your thing – particularly you women out there- I’m here to tell you to take a chance! Lifting is fun and gives you great endorphins. It makes you feel like you’re invincible and you see the progress in the fact that you’re challenging yourself to lift more every time. I highly recommend StrongLifts as a starting point. The app is free and it tracks pretty well. I also suggest you take a friend so that way you can both laugh off any awkwardness together.

Assert yourself at the gym when you’re waiting for the squat rack and don’t let anyone make you feel uncomfortable. You belong in the weight room just as much as anyone else does. And don’t be afraid or embarrassed to check the videos multiple times to make sure that you’re doing everything right! You’re doing this for you and it’s not going to do you any good if you don’t have proper form. Why waste your time? I promise you that even if you lift and realize it’s not your thing, you’ll feel amazing for even pushing yourself into it.

Part III: Yogastic

Yes, I just made up that word and no you cannot copyright it. This summer I wrote a blog post about how amazing yoga made me feel and when I moved back to Santa Barbara my practice fell to the wayside. Well, I’ve decided to get it back. I am challenging myself to go all in and complete the YogaCamp series on Yoga with Adriene (YWA). I miss that girl and her calming voice and body-bending poses and I’m ready to dive on in again. I think that often times I feel lazy or like I can’t start up again but that is 100% wrong. I can start up again and I will today! I’ve challenged/enlisted a friend who I know will stay consistent to do the challenge with me and I’m so excited for our results.

Yoga gave me so much sanity and clarity this summer and as I remind myself that self-love is a practice and not a destination (something I chant to myself in the shower nowadays), I feel as though yoga will help me with that. Yoga helps me feel whole, beautiful and powerful and I want that back. Plus I still want to be able to take a headstand pic in front of the Hollywood sign (especially since I’ll be living in LA this upcoming year). So the only way to get there is to practice! I’ve recommitted and I wish myself luck.

I’ll keep you updated on all of my workout journeys and everything else that’s going on in my life within these upcoming months. Spoiler Alert: It’s a LOT of change. But I’m confident that I’ll be ready when it comes. Have a wonderful week friends.

xxMorgan

The Mean Reds

It’s about that time of month again. That time where I can’t figure out if I want to punch people in the face, cry all day in bed, gobble a pint of Ben & Jerry’s or all three! In light of this event I’ve decided to take a new approach to the trio.

I have my first boxing lesson tonight (more like an orientation) and I cycled this morning for the first time in two weeks (damn the holidays – jk, but they did mess up my schedule) so I think that by the end of the day I’ll no longer desire inflicting physical harm upon those around me. As for the tears, I think it’s time to watch Breakfast at Tiffany’s for the umpteenth time tonight in my pink VS pajamas. Or maybe I’ll just watch it in sweats and an old(er) T-Shirt because I don’t want to possibly ruin them.

I haven’t been craving anything besides the sweet taste of coffee today so there’s that, but I am having shopping withdrawals. Nordstrom and Kate Spade did me in when I visited home. I just want to wrap myself up in a Kate Spade NY shop and fall in love among the pastel colored mini bags…of which I cannot bring myself to spend $200 plus dollars – for what? For me to only be able to fit a small makeup pouch, a wallet and my cellphone? I mean yes darling those are the only things I need but wherever will  stash my sunglasses when the bright light fades into the background? Until I am at a place in my life where I can comfortably stash money and toss it around as frivolously  as Meryl Streep tosses her coat on Anne Hathaway’s desk in The Devil Wears Prada, I will stick to buying functional accessories.

I’m not sure if I’m going to pick up my pint after boxing tonight. I just bought Grand Mariner so I might go for something with a lot less lactate and a lot more alcohol in it. A stiff drink, some Audrey Hepburn and a bed fit for Blair Waldorf are all in my future tonight. Sounds like the best case scenario to combat the Mean Reds. Let me know how you combat the Mean Reds in the comments section.

xxMorgan

 

 

Dreams Dreams

I had two absolutely bizarre dreams the night before last. One starred one of my best friends. In the dream he was a single father at age 25 (literally two years from now) and he had a gorgeous baby girl. They lived in Los Angeles in a swanky apartment and I remember being shocked that he had such a beautiful pad. Looking back on the dream right now however, I must admit that the color of the walls was a bit retro (circa the ’70s). I don’t remember much of what actually happened in the dream (besides this sounding like ABC Family’s new and improved version of Baby Daddy) but I do know the feelings that I experienced in the dream. They were pretty freaking romantic considering my feelings during the day are at zilch.

I’m not sure what it is about our every day lives that give us these dreams about people whom we’re close with and often I wonder if this means something. Admittedly, mostly I wonder if this person has also had these types of dreams about me and how many. My count with this particular person is at an all-time high of two since the beginning of last school year and I’m actually okay with that. I think however, that if it reached anything higher than a steady average of one per year I would be a little concerned.

To recap: Dream One put me in an alternate universe where I was in a weird pseudo-romantic relationship with my best friend who recently had a child with another woman. WEIRD.

Dream Two was also bizarre but equally appealing. At least in the first dream I woke up to the sound of my alarm with warm and fuzzy feelings. This dream made me feel like I had fucked over hard-core.

I was hanging out with my friend (what is it with these friends?) and he invited one of his other friends over. It was very clear that he was also hooking up with her by their interactions (she was ridiculously flirty). Actually, hold up, pause this article. This dream now seems very real. As in this actually happened to me in real life and last night was reincarnated into a dream involving someone else completely different from the person whom it happened with. Eff.

Okay, restart.

So, there were three of us and as expected I became the third wheel. What ended up occurring was that the girl and him hooked up while I was still hanging out at his house. Talking about third wheeling. I felt like crap, he didn’t see what the issue was (despite the fact that the two of us were also seeing each other romantically) and I left with some career advice from the girl (which I definitely did NOT need) and a bruised ego.

And then I woke up. Needless to say, it’s pretty clear which dream I was more appreciative of. I told my best friend and my good friend about the dream I had had and they both shared their dreams for the night. We joked that we should keep dream journals, but I’m thinking that it may actually be a good idea. After all, dreams are supposed to hold keys to our subconscious.

xxMorgan

Spin & Tonic

Every single time.

Spinning is life. Have you ever gone to a spin class? They simultaneously tear you down and build you up and it is great. This will be my third quarter of spin and I find myself going three times a week. I’ve made friends with the instructor and I’ve even made friends with a fellow attendee as we have shared interests in the form of being pushed to our limits, sweating like hell and feeling a high unlike any other.

I remember when I first started spinning. I don’t know what made me sign up – maybe it was all of those celebrities that swear by SoulCycle or maybe I just needed a new challenge – but I am so thankful that I took the plunge. I’ve found a workout (aside from running) that makes me chant the mantra “Train like a beast, look like a beauty” so intensely that you would think it’s the only sentence my brain knows. Spinning takes away the grime of a night out that resulted in one too many drinks and a few slices of pizza. Why you may ask? Because despite the fact that I may have gone to bed at 2AM, I’m up at 7:30 getting dressed and on my bike by 7:45 to race my butt to the studio – where I’ll be riding for the next forty-five minutes. It helps me feel productive. And it’s so early in the morning that sometimes I forget that I’ve worked out that day. Which means that after work when I’m trying to figure out whether or not I should drag myself to the gym or go for a run, I’m gratified by the fact that I’ve already done my due diligence.

I’ve crafted a list of Reasons Why Spinning is Good for the Soul:

5. It helps you sleep better – Because I work during the day and have meetings at night, the only time I can really go is in the morning. I’m definitely not a morning person. I enjoy staying up late (though it’s getting harder to keep my eyes open) but since I’m spinning 3x a week (MWF), I have to make sure that I get at least seven hours of sleep to get me through the day. This means that I’m always in bed by 12 to start my drift to dreamland.

4. It makes you a Morning Person – Did I mention that I’m not a morning person? Because seriously y’all, I’m not. I will chose sleeping in over breakfast – and I LOVE breakfast food! But when I spin I have to be up early and when I’m showering after class I feel alive and awake, ready for work. I’m also typically high off of endorphins so not only am I awake, but I’m also happy to be going into the office after a challenging bike ride.

3. It helps you drink water – I don’t know if any of y’all have spun before but a good teacher ensures that the water bottle you’ve brought with you is empty by the end of class. I have a 36oz Nalgene bottle and when we’re cooling down I’m taking my last sweet sips. It’s great because even if I forget to drink a ton of water during the rest of the day (it happens!), I know that I started the day off right!

2. You’re always improving – In a spin class you’re always challenging yourself. I take a course that’s interval-based which means that I’m always pushing myself to my limits in my journey for strength. Spin builds endurance and strengthens glute and quad muscles which help me run faster and farther. It’s a win-win situation. Plus I can take all of my stress from work and life out on the bike, which makes me a healthier person over all.

1. Endorphins make you happy, and happy people just don’t shoot their husbands – El oh el. I hope you read that and had a good laugh. But I’m being partially serious here – endorphins make you happy and happy people live healthy, wealthy (wealth is more than just money) lives. I always feel good knowing that I’ve worked out for the day and in addition I feel a lot less stressed. Happiness is key and no one can make us truly happy but ourselves, hence why we must take the steps to improve our mental well being.

So if those aren’t enough reasons why spin is amazing (and why I continue to wake up at an absurd hour to kill myself on a stationary bike three times a week), then I don’t know what will convince you. And granted, spinning isn’t going to be everybody’s jam or cup of tea but you’ll never know until you try it. And Pro Tip: Make friends with the teacher/coach because there’s nothing more motivating than coming to class on Monday after you skipped class on Friday to sleep in and having the teacher ask you where you were. A wave of guilt and disappointment crashes over you and you promise, knowing damn well it’s one of the few promises you’ll remember to keep, that you’ll be there all three days that week (and every other week unless you become ill or have to go out of town for some reason).

Motivation comes in many forms y’all – find yours.

xxMorgan