I never feel good enough.

just me.

I stare in the mirror wearing a bikini, checking out my figure. Do I look thin enough? Do I have a nice body? Is this working out four to five days a week helping? What more can I do to appear in shape? Why can’t I ever believe I have a great physique? What more can I do?

I never feel as if I look good enough, feel worthy enough, feel thin enough, feel strong enough, feel trimmed and cute? Nothing is ever enough & has always been like that. As many times as people compliment me, tell me how great my body is, how pretty, beautiful, I am, I never feel good enough. 

What am I doing wrong? What is it going to take to feel 100% about my appearance? I try. I swear I do, but nothing has changed. I continuously work-out, but still, my body isn’t firm enough for me to feel good.

The key phrases here– good enough, feel good, nice body, firm stomach. 

Will I always feel like this forever? Will I continually bash myself and my body? Will I ever feel fully confident to be myself? Come on. Why do I always put myself down? I feel nasty, disgusting, gross, dumb, stupid, yucky.


It’s time to stop. I’m a size 3 for crying outloud. Originally, when I tried on bridesmaid’s dresses for one of my gal pals’ wedding , I thought I’m a size 4. To my surprise, the 4 was big on me. So, instead, I tried on the 2 and STILL had room! The saleswoman grabbed a clump of dress and said, you still have room too! See. There you go. I STILL had room.

The manager at work said, you look like a princess. It’s ridiculous how pretty you are. Other people have complimented me about my looks. It seems I need a constant reminder to keep going. But why? Is my self-esteem that low? Ew, Hope. Now, that’s gross, nasty, disgusting, grotesque.

Stop it. STOP IT. Just STOP doing that to yourself. You ARE gross thinking those thoughts. No, I don’t think I’m ugly, I just believe I can do BETTER. Everyone can do better somehow, feel better, good better, appear better. 

I work-out, watch the way I eat, exercise, look good, smell nice, wear makeup– the works, but NOTHING is EVER GOOD ENOUGH.







I swear, I’m trying.

Two Months Ago Today…

9:30– My alarm wakes me up to start the day. I pull the covers back over my body and curl up into a ball. I’m not ready for the day. Even though I’ve prepared myself for this day, I still don’t want to go through with it. I don’t want to shatter his heart into a million pieces. I’ve cried and dreaded this day for the past week and now it has arrived. He’s a great, awesome, fantastic guy, but the doubts have resurfaced and it’s not fair to him to keep up our relationship. I must end it and let him go.

1:00, we meet at the park for “the conversation.” Rather, “the talk.” I literally shake on my drive over. How will he react? What will he say?

The pain in his eyes when I speak the words, “I don’t think I want a boyfriend right now,” have since haunted me. I think & remember the exact moment and relive it at times of sadness. No, of course I haven’t forgotten the memories, the special moments we shared together. 

Two months ago, I broke up with my boyfriend of 6 months. I can’t believe it’s been two months on this exact day that I cut ties with this guy. The last time I heard from him was early May when he wrote me that letter. I wonder sometimes– did he receive my letter? Why didn’t he write me back?

Maybe it was too painful for him to write back & forth. Of course, I’d love to know how he’s doing. I’m not that heartless. I dated the guy for six months! He was the first guy I showed off my body to & did “things” with.


The first few weeks were rough, disgusting, nasty, dreadful, unsettling, but I got through them. I pulled through & became stronger.

I don’t need a guy to be happy. Happiness can be obtained through friends, a dream job, dream house, it doesn’t need to be all because a man.

Two months today was horrid & I’d never go back.

Father’s Day.

I stare at a photo of my dad & I when we previously visited this house filled with Phillies paraphernalia three summers away. He’s standing proud and tall in his Phillies shirt with his arm around me while I smile in Ryan Howard’s real jersey and Phillies cap. We are completely decked out in Phillies attire. It’s a great picture of us, so I decide to give it as a gift for Father’s Day.

This is the perfect present, I say to myself as I search through my pictures.

But, then, I really look at the picture. I become sad and choke up at the thought of one day holding this picture in a clenched manner missing my father. I swear, as I write this, tears form in my eyes. I can’t even imagine my father not being around one day. To be honest, I don’t want to think about it because I’d feel absolutely empty & lost. The lump sits in my throat like a frog sits on a lily pad. That green reptile can’t move & neither can I. I can’t move from this position. I won’t accept it. I’m so sorry. It’s a harsh reality, but it’s going to happen.

I couldn’t kick the feeling of one day not celebrating Father’s day with my dad. For some reason, I just felt so sad all day. I appeared happy because it was his day, but really I couldn’t shove the thoughts to the side. They kept creeping up on me without much warning.

You see, when it comes to expressing myself, I’m great with writing how I feel, but when I’m made to form the words, they aren’t as accessible. In general, I’m not an affectionate person. When I feel it, I’ll hug you, touch you, but when I don’t, I won’t. My dad & I have never really been affectionate. I mean, sure I hug him when I leave the house, after we give gifts to each other on a birthday or if I appreciate a nice gesture. Other than that, I just don’t. To be honest, I get nervous to do it. It doesn’t come natural because I don’t always feel comfortable. Strange? Weird? Un-normal? Yes, but that’s how it is.

Today, I wanted to be more affectionate, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it, go for it. There was a blockage, a resistance. I have no clue why, but I feel restricted. I just wanted to feel connected to him.

I’ve witnessed some of my friends go through the death of their father and it terrifies me. Literally. I’m scared to death (no pun intended). I’m just so afraid. 

It was a great day and I didn’t want it to end. Honestly, it was one of the best father’s days I’ve ever had with my dad. Gosh, I’m such a baby to get choked up over this, but I don’t want ANYTHING to happen to either one of my parents for a very long time. I can’t prevent anything from occurring, but I’m praying nothing happens any time soon.

Happy Father’s Day to all.


Do you feel the same?!

It’s 6:45 p.m. on Thursday. Usually, I’d be on the train riding home from my internship in the Big Apple or running to catch the next train heading to Hamilton.

No, I’m not over it. Not even close. I’m not over thinking about my NYC trips or attending Temple University. I think it’s because I have so much free time that I’m overthinking everything. My life, where I’m going, what I’m doing, who I am, where I’m going. I’ve never felt like this.  This is the lowest I’ve ever felt in my entire life. I didn’t think it was possible to feel this way. 

I feel empty, completely & utterly empty. Other than my dream job or dream internship, I’m going to feel like this for a while. I just don’t feel like anything has improved. I’m so high & low these days. I’m in a funk & I can’t get out of it.


Yes, I’ll have to deal with that the rest of my life. I do realize that, but I’m not ready for it. It seems I’m unprepared. Gosh, please help me. I’m going crazy, nuts, insane, ballistic! Save me. Please save me.

I’m not ready to move on. I can’t & won’t. I’m still holding on for dear life to my old life. My simple, simple life of going to Temple University. I felt safe, enclosed & protected. There was a shield over me and I was satisfied. 

Gosh, I’m terrified. I can’t even begin to describe to you how scared I am.  I just want someone to talk to, connect with. I have an idea who will understand what I’m going through too! Am I ready to admit that I need help? I need assistance. I’m great at writing about it, but when it comes to communicating it outloud, I fall short. I’m terrible & crazy.

I think I’m feeling lonely, isolated, unwanted, shitty, crappy. I choke up at the thought of my life being like this. I could NEVER live like this. If I did, I would cut my life short. I know this is only momentarily, but it feels like a century has gone by and I still feel the same. I feel sick & disgusted with myself.

I mean, sure, it hasn’t even been a month since I graduated, but still!

On June 16th, it will be one month. I know I need to relax & stop feeling this way. Um. Easier said than done! Bring it on. I want the stress, the work, the hardship, the business, the nervousness feeling, the choking down lunch while I’m working on an urgent project feeling. Bring it on! I’m ready. I’m prepared. Trust me. I am. Fully.

Your time will come. You’re not even close to being done with New York. You’re just taking a break & saving up money to visit him. You’ve been seeing each other way too much & need some time apart, I tell myself calmly.


I guess?

Who knows.

Do you feel the same?! Please tell me you do because then I’ll feel a bit more calm.