I went to camp, and I loved it and I was truly happy. It was two weeks of pure bliss, but then it ended and I had to come home. Home is not blissful. Home is stressful and uncomfortable. I wish I could go back to camp.
There was a boy at camp I really liked and its pretty possible he liked me back. We flirted all of last summer but this year, we both tried to stay more distanced. I didn’t want to miss him and he didn’t want to miss me. But gosh, when he let me in- I felt like I had a place. I have never liked someone like I liked him. But I left and with that, I left my place with him. And I never knew it was possible to miss someone this much, where just thinking of him hurts because I know I can’t be with him.
Sometimes, I just wish things were different. Am I just bound to meet the perfect guy in unperfect circumstances or could someday I have a fairytale story?
Tomorrow, I leave for summer camp. I’m excited to go but it terrifies me at the same time. Even though its my second time going, its always terrifying to go so far from home and to be with new people.
High school is a safe zone. Everyday, I go to school with the same 200 people. I know who to sit with, when to laugh, and how to act. I know my place in high school. Going outside of high school though, I don’t know my place. Sure, I have friends at camp but that’s different than knowing exactly who you are and where you belong. The only place I have that is high school. It terrifies me that someday, I’ll have to leave high school, and with that, I’ll have to leave my place. I’ll have to rebuild myself, like I did when I came to high school.
As much as I complain about my school, my school is home. But for the next two weeks, camp becomes my home and that’s terrifying.
My birthday was now two days ago. One of my best friends, Gabe, didn’t wish me a happy birthday. And the worst part is that hurts a lot, but I don’t want to feel anything, but I feel so much.
Gabe and I have been through quite a bit. We’ve had our fair share of fights. For weeks, our poor mutual friends knew that if you placed us in the same vicinity, you would get screams, punches, and tears. But somehow, no matter how much we fought, Gabe and I couldn’t help but always end up being friends in the end.
Our last fight was long and tiring. It went on for months. Sometimes, there would be a day where it seemed over, but then it would begin again the next day. It was more than a fight, it was a war. But our war ended, because he told me he cared too much to lose me and even if I stopped being his friend, he would still be mine. And that meant the world to me, to know someone cared about me THAT much. That’s what every girl wants to hear, and I was lucky enough to hear it.
But I can’t help but wonder- was it all a lie? Was he just making sure he wouldn’t be on my bad side? I want to believe he cares, because he’s been there when I’ve needed him. But how do you say nothing when its my birthday? I know his calendar has my birthday- I put it in his calendar! But he didn’t acknowledge my birthday, and that hurts quite a bit. The worst part is acknowledging the pain, because this post means the pain is real. This post means he really didn’t care enough to say anything to me for my birthday. This post means the war never truly ended, I just was stupid enough to think we came to a peace treaty. Is friendship ever going to be something I can rely on or will I be forced to spend my entire life assuming all my friendships are really war zones?
Today, I walked through T.J.Maxx while my mom shopped, and I found myself in the children’s toys section. I decided to look around and see what toys kids play with now. However, instead of smiling and laughing over the adorableness of children’s toys, I found myself enraged. The section was split into a female and male sections and the difference was obvious.
In the boys’ section, everyone was superheroes or transformers. The baseball bats were plastic, but had no padding. Everything was in colors like red, blue, and black. All the toys emphasized the idea of being a strong boy. Half the area was devoted to sports gear. There were also many different models of big nerf guns that looked like they could hurt.
The girls’ section however was not fine. Everything was in pink, purple, or gold. The “superhero” cape was pink and included a gold crown on the back. The baseball bats (the only thing related to sports in the section!) were pink, had pictures of minnie mouse, and had thick padding. Most of the area was dedicated to haircare or nail designs. The worst part was the one nerf gun: a small nerf gun called “nerf gun rebelle,” which is specifically made for females. The section for girls emphasized good looks.
The problem that was evident was the ideas we are forcing on children. We are forcing the old stereotypes, and until we stop, we can’t expect our society to change either. Why couldn’t the girls’ section have sports gear? Instead the section could only have one baseball bat, which was awful compared to the boys’ baseball bat. The rest of the girls’ section had to focus on looking good. This is what we tell our girls to value! Why did the nerf gun have to be smaller and specifically made for a girl? Can a girl not use a regular nerf gun? Of course, she’s capable, but we tell our girls that they aren’t! Why couldn’t the section have a selection of superhero capes, instead of just one that was more fitting for a princess than a superhero.
I’m all for saying that looking good is a good thing and you should take pride in your appearance, but what about everything else? We need to find a balance for our girls. We need to start telling our girls that you can be a superhero and a princess. We need to start telling our girls its okay to play sports and want to be strong. Why should the boys be the only ones with strength?
I’m top of my class, a nationally competitive debater, and I box two to three times a week. However, I still love Disney princess movies, love wearing dresses and skirts, enjoy doing my make up and hair, and my favorite color is pink. I am a strong female, but I’m also the typical female. Its possible to be both. Why are we not telling more girls to try it all? Why are we simply telling girls to focus on the looks part, what about intelligence and strength?
Its time to make a change. Its time to allow girls to decide who they want to be, whether that be a princess, a wrestler, the next president, or all of those combined! Let’s start this change in the toy industry.
Happy sixteenth birthday to me!
For the first time in a while, things are really good. Not everything is perfect- I don’t expect it to be. But for once, I’m accepting the bad along with the good, and I’m letting the good outweigh the bad. Even if its just for one day, I’m experiencing pure bliss.
To be honest, I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m at a loss of where I’m going, who I’m becoming, who I am now. I’m trying really hard to create an identity for myself, because that will make life so much easier if others can at least identify me in a few words.
Teenagers have so much stress put on us, but we know nothing. We haven’t lived long enough to know who we are- yet we’re told that we should be figuring out the rest of our lives. We don’t know who we are today, how can we possibly be expected to know who we will be in thirty years?
Here’s to figuring out the rest of my life!
I promised, you get to be around for my every thought. And unfortunately for you, I don’t simply have thoughts once a day, so today, you get two blog posts!
I have some secret talents, that I’ve barely shared with anyone. Now, I’m sharing it with the entire world. Its really crazy. I like to write songs, and I like to sing. And I’m good at sings and I’m good at writing songs. However, my life is all planned out. I’m going into business or politics. I’m going to live a practical life and make a nice amount of money doing so. But I can’t shake the idea that I’m going to live a life that I don’t want to live. Sure, I’ll be happy but my passion lies in music. My passion has always laid with the arts. My parents have tried to kick that out of me, as the arts aren’t a practical or reliable way to live. But I love the arts. I don’t want to live my life wondering what may have happened if I had maybe pursued my passions. But I feel like I will.
I also want to open a bakery, I know, its crazy, I just said my passion lay with the arts. But if I did decide on a more practical approach, I could be really, really happy having a bakery. Its a more reliable way of life- maybe it wouldn’t lead to the lavish life I know, but I might be really happy. I love to bake, and I could be so happy. I could still be a businesswoman, as this would be owning my own business. I just know that my parents wouldn’t approve. I have to go for the practical approach that leads to bringing in the big bucks- my loves and passions be damned.
Tragedy strikes us all, but often, we don’t notice that we’re even experiencing a tragedy. We believe its simply a bump in the road, until the ride gets too rough for it to simply be a bump in the road any longer. That’s when we realize, we are experiencing a tragedy.
For me, my tragedy is having to watch my entire family fall apart. The worst part in my tragic story is its so grueling, that I just want my family to be broken instead of breaking. My sister, Marie, basically hates my father. This has always slightly existed, as he’s the reason she pushes herself so hard. She pushes herself past her limits, and it terrifies me. She blames this on our dad. He also won’t pay for her education and she took out loans. She thinks he’s sabotaging her life. In reality, he’s doing as much as he can. He pays her housing and her food and gives her monthly money and pays the interest on her loans. We are wealthy but we don’t have enough to pay for my high school and her college and maintain our standard of living. She doesn’t see this, so when they talk, its just arguing. My dad thinks she’s an ungrateful brat. Him and Marie just don’t get along anymore. I wouldn’t be surprised if in ten years, Marie cuts him out of her life. I wouldn’t be surprised if she cuts us all out of her life. She thinks my mother is spineless and me, I’ll be collateral damage.
My mom resents everyone in my family. She gave up working to raise my sister and I. I think she’s always wondered what if, and resented us for taking away her opportunity to succeed professionally. She resents my dad because he constantly throws in her face that she doesn’t work, making her useless in his books. This hurts her a lot. He controls her entirely. She’ll never go back to work, because he enjoys being able to ridicule her and calling her useless. It makes him feel powerful. He’ll never allow her to go back to work, and she’ll never defy him. I’ve told her- I want her to be happy and if a job makes her happy, then so be it. But she doesn’t listen, she says my dad would throw a fit and I wouldn’t have parents around. This just leads to her resenting me more- because even now, I’m a reason why she can’t work. I tell her that I’ll be fine, I can cook myself dinner and take care of the dog, but she doesn’t listen. I think she thinks she’s done nothing with her life because she hasn’t done anything professionally, but her life has been a good one and she’s raised my sister and I. Marie and I have our issues, but I like to believe we’re a success for my mother.
Me? I resent a lot in my family. I resent my mother, for being spineless in the face of my father. Why can’t she just stand up to him? Why did she never leave him? I know, its awful, but she deserves better than the pain and the mood swings he goes through. Maybe, its because we always believe we deserve to hurt. She doesn’t deserve to hurt. She’s better than that. So I resent my mother, for standing by him and letting him hurt her, Marie, and I. I resent my dad so much so often. He’s a control freak, he needs to control every aspect of my family’s lives. He pushes people so far, constantly telling you that you aren’t good enough and you aren’t doing enough even when you’re doing as much as you can. And he lashes out, whenever he feels pain or stress in his life, he takes out on my mom, Marie, and I. And we just have to close our ears and our eyes and let him scream at us about how awful we are and let him push us down. I don’t tell people how bad it is, because it isn’t always that bad. He goes through cycles in his life. Last year, he was great and it was great being with him. This year, its been awful and painful. Its getting worse every day and I don’t know how much more I can take. So I resent him a lot.
I resent Marie for getting out. She’s not home this summer. She doesn’t have to come home. She’s basically escaped the torture and tragedy that is my family. I really hate Marie sometimes, because she got out and left me here. She doesn’t text me to check in and make sure I’m okay. Its like it was never her and I against the world. Its just me against the world now. I miss Marie so much, I wish she would be more involved in my life. Instead, she posts something on my Facebook about once a month and when she talks to my mom, she says she can tell I’m doing great and really growing up and looking good because she sees my Facebook photos. Its like I’m an old friend she lost contact with. She was the only person who understood what I’m going through and she walked away. Marie hurts me the most out of any of my family.
We all have our battles to face, some closer to home than others. Mine lies in my home. The tragic tale of a tragically dysfunctional family. The scariest part is the fear that my entire life will be a tragedy because those are the cards I’m given. There may be a comedic scene now and again, but the tale is just tragic the entire way through. Maybe that’s the worst part about realizing you’re living a tragedy: you don’t know when the tragedy will end. Maybe it’s the fear that we will never be happy that leads to us closing our eyes and ignoring what lies in front of us: our life isn’t as good as we want right now, and it might never be. The question looms over my head: Will I ever be happy?
So yes, I wish my family was broken up already instead of in the long, heartbreaking process of falling apart. It would be easier, and maybe if this tragic event was over, I could believe that I will be genuinely happy for the rest of my life. Maybe, when this ends, I can start to believe that tragedies don’t occur in our lives, just bumps in the road. But for now, I just see tragedy surrounding me, like clouds surrounding an area during a storm.
My sixteenth birthday is rapidly approaching and that’s a big deal. Not only does this mean that I will begin to be behind the wheel, but it also means my sweet sixteen is approaching.
As a girl who looks up to figures such as Audrey Hepburn, Blair Waldorf, and Carrie Bradshaw, I know the importance of a good, classy party. However, I’ve never thrown a real party before. I’ve never gone through the stress of a party. Planning this sweet sixteen is hard. I know, I’m a silly girl- a sweet sixteen has very little importance in the grand scheme of things, but right now, its the most importance thing in the world.
How does one even choose who to invite? I mean, you have your friends, and then you have your friends’ friends, and then your friends’ friends’ friends. When does it end? When does the party begin to be about who you simply want there? Because, while that might be how it should be, being politically correct gets in the way of things. I don’t want to exclude anyone, but I want this to be my night. When does the need to be politically correct just end and things start being about the fun again?
This is a short one, but I guess, I don’t have much to say while I’m still in the process of planning. Don’t you worry, you’ll be with me for every step of it.
Tonight, I went to a Mets game with my dad, like we do all the time. Last year, this was such a fun occasion. He and I would talk and for 3 hours, I would feel close to my dad. This year, it hasn’t been that way. He won’t talk, he watches the game in silence and answers work emails.
I know, his life this year is so much more stressful than it was before. He left his company to start his own business and my sister constantly stresses him out with her high demands for money and such. I just miss being close to my dad. I’ve never really been close with him, but I’ve tried to be my entire life. As a kid, he travelled almost all the time during the week and on the weekends, he would spend time with my family but he always was especially close with my sister. She’s the smarter of the two of us and the more aggressive one. Truthfully, I’ve always thought he had a soft spot for her that he could never have for me. So when I found baseball games as a time to bond, I jumped at the opportunity. My sister, Marie, hates sports so she would never go and my mom also hates baseball, which left it as just my dad and I. For about 60 games last season, I had never been closer with my dad.
I really miss that type of relationship with him. I just want him to let me in again. I really want to make him proud and I try so hard. I just want a sign that he’s proud of me. Am I always going to be vying for the love and pride of one who will never give it to me? Isn’t that life, though? We seek the love that simply won’t be given to us, because a small part of us thinks we deserve the pain. We believe we aren’t good enough so we put up with the pain of rejection or in my case, just ignorance. Maybe, if we stopped vying for others’ affections and started focusing on ourselves, we would receive the love we so badly desire. The question lies in will we ever find the strength to give up?