TTFN

I’ve got, like, 4 unfinished posts sitting in my drafts folder, and it’s because I keep deciding halfway through that I no longer like them.

That’s both a hard fact, and a metaphor for my life.

I have 4 large goals I’ve been trying to accomplish for the past year and a half or so just sitting on my “Goals” list, and it’s because I consistently half-ass any efforts put towards reaching them.

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Welp. 2018 is the year of the full-ass attempts. It’s the year themed “Level Up”. It’s time for me to pick a thing, and freaking focus on it until it gets done. Then, I’ll move on to the next thing. Simple, direct, doable.

Unfortunately, blogging is not on my current list of priorities. So, while I may return every so often to update y’all, or to share some random tidbit/life-lesson/experience/super short story, this is my official notice that I’m taking a hiatus.

I deserve more from myself. My goals deserve my undivided attention. I used to be great at getting shit done, and I aim to get back to that version of myself.

So, I bid you all adieu for now.

Until next time,

Severn ❤

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I’ve Been Life-Coached

I kind of got life-coached by Beau yesterday. (Yeah, we’re friends again.)

I know it’s been a while y’all, but I’m back, for now, and a little all over the place, which I’m sure you’ll see in this post. This is actually one of the things we talked about–why I haven’t blogged in so long. The answer is the same reason I haven’t moved forward in most any of the other areas in my life:

I’m afraid. 

Of what? Failure, mostly. I’m afraid of failing myself, of letting my family down by not reaching the potential they believe I have. I’m afraid that nobody cares about what I have to say, or about the experiences I’ve had.  I’m afraid that what I say I want to do isn’t actually what I want to do. I’m afraid that if I’m vulnerable on here like I was on my last blog, I’ll hurt somebody again. 

I’m sick of it. 

I’m sick of holding myself back, of dulling my light, and dialing back my feelings for the sake of others. I’m tired of trying to fit myself into this box that I constructed for myself when I was 12 years old. 

Architecture is great, but I don’t want to do it for the rest of my life.

I love my family, but I can’t let them continue to influence my decisions or how I feel about where I am in life. 

I want to write, and I can’t let my limiting beliefs stop me from doing that, from doing the one thing that makes me happiest. 

I’ve been in a pretty good place lately, stable, I guess. But, after my conversation with Beau yesterday, I realized just how much I’m suppressing. And it’s scaring me. I’m actually fighting back tears as I write this. 

On a slightly different note:

When Beau and I broke up, I had a feeling our story wasn’t over. I didn’t know what shape any future friendship/relationship would really take, but I knew there would be something. I still love him, I don’t think that’ll ever go away, but what I’m realizing now is more importantly: I still have more to learn from him. I don’t know if he’s learning anything from me, whether it’s about life, himself, or whatever, but he’s helped me.

What we established yesterday was that my fear of failure and everything that comes with it–disappointment, a sense of loss, a hit to my self-confidence–has paralyzed me. I’ve had this thought before, a long time ago, when I was super confused about my life, but it hadn’t occurred to me recently. When Beau said it, it felt like time stopped for a split second. A thud sounded in my head as my happily “stable” mind fell from the tightrope on which it was precariously perched. 

I’m paralyzed. 

My theme for 2017 was self-love. I’ve achieved that. I know I’m hard on myself, but especially after this year, I can honestly say that I love myself. I know that I’m worthy of love, that even though I make mistakes I’m still an amazing person with wonderful qualities. I don’t really need validation from other people (though it’s nice to get it sometimes). I accept myself for who I am while acknowledging that I can be better. I love me as I am, I love me for who I can be. I am enough. 

For 2018, my theme is Level-Up, because that’s what I plan to do in every aspect of life. No more paralysis, but movement. Hopefully forward and upward movement, but I acknowledge that life doesn’t always work that way, and there will be plenty of setbacks as well.  The point is that I’m ready. And I have every intention of gaining more clarity, direction, and overall satisfaction with my life. I plan to flourish. 

Until next time,

❤ Severn

Writing

I have a need to write. At any given moment, there are hundreds of words bouncing around my brain. Dozens of stories clamor to the front, begging to be told. So whenever I have a spare moment, or when my work gets too boring, I pull out a blank sheet of paper, pick a non-black pen, and write.

Sometimes what comes out weighs a ton. It’s as if I’ve been hoarding every emotion I’ve ever felt. The words tumble out of my pen, nothing strong enough to slow them down.

Sometimes what comes out is light and airy. The words flutter like butterflies, painting pictures as beautiful as their wings. The ideas seem simple at first, but upon closer examination, the intricacies reveal themselves. If you know me well and you read one of these, you’ll be able to understand what it is I’m really saying.

Occasionally I’ll write a poem, and other times it’s a straightforward life update. Honestly, it doesn’t matter. I’m just happy to be writing. I love that feeling I get when I craft a particularly good sentence. I live for turning my feelings into black and white pictures. I get a jolt of pleasure whenever I start a new journal. Writing is my favorite thing to do–I want to get better at it.

And so, for these reasons and countless more, I’ve decided I’m going to write a book. It might be a memoir (I just registered for a memoir writing class), maybe a collection of essays, or short stories. Whatever it turns out to be, I know I’ll love creating it. Writing is the only thing for which my love has never wavered.

I’m excited to fall even more in love with it. Wish me luck!

❤  Severn

P.S. This is a fitting 100th post, wouldn’t ya say? 😀

I’m Baaaaack

HI! I’m alive and (mostly) well. I stopped regularly blogging because (especially after the breakup) I wanted to figure myself out in private for once. Now, I still haven’t exactly achieved that, but I’m doing a lot better than I was then!

And so here I am.

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What I’ve been doing:

  • working out
  • meal prep
  • studying for the ARE
  • volunteering
  • sort of dating
  • going out with my friends

What “trying to be back” really means:

  • More consistent posts. I’m shooting for once a week. Probably Wednesday or Thursday evenings, but we will see.
  • Great content. When I started this blog, I wrote this sappy post about drowning in depression and how I’m better now and gliding along on my chariot…  saved by the bell disgusted eww gag horrified GIFThat’s a beautiful sentiment, and I’m not taking it back, but I think my blog can use a little redirection. Because what does gliding along on my chariot even mean? The picture of calm waters under my control is not only unrealistic, but also untrue. I still have crappy days ALL the TIME. I get stuck in negative thought loops, I dread taking caring of my responsibilities, I use a LOT of energy every morning convincing myself not to call in to work. Calm waters is a (boring) fantasy, but the stuff I just listed (plus so much more) is LIFE.  wind steve woah blues clues GIFThis blog is called Severn Goddess, and from here on out it will focus on my journey to becoming just that–a goddess. What does that entail?

Becoming a Goddess. To me, being a goddess means:

  • Living the life I want to live – seeing people I want to see, doing things with my time that contribute to my happiness, fitness, and overall well-being
  • Giving to others – donating clothes, money, time; volunteering as often as I can
  • Loving God and trying my best to live a life that glorifies Him
  • Creating architecture, art, blog posts, and anything else that can bring meaning to others

I’ll be posting about allllll of these things on here. My categories won’t change much, but as I continue to create I may tweak along the way.

I’m really excited, guys! I’ve missed blogging, and I think getting back to it will be good for me. See y’all next week!

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Glitter

“I swear I just saw it!” I exclaim. “Okay, look to your left and slowly turn your face to the right.”

He sighs, but does as he’s told. There’s a birthmark on his ear, right where an earring would be if his ears were pierced. I play with that lobe more than the other when we’re lounging in bed. His cheeks are speckled with stubble, but through it I see his skin: the color of my café con leche when I don’t put enough milk. His eyebrow is annoyingly tame and unbushy. People born with perfect eyebrows don’t know how good they’ve got it. He’s closed his eyes, but his eyelashes still look long and beautiful. The bridge of his nose is wide, and would make the perfect mount for glasses should his 20/20 vision change. His lips look full and soft, and for a second I forget what I’m doing, and lean in to kiss them.

He kisses me back, so lovingly, so tenderly, but then breaks away with a another sigh.

“Babe.” He grabs my shoulders and looks into my eyes. “Did you find the glitter?”

I give him an apologetic smile and sink into a shrug. “I’m sorry, I got distracted!”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Wait, I just saw it again!”

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Daily Prompt|| Shine

She sat across from him, studying his face with mild curiosity. He was beginning to get uncomfortable, but he didn’t say anything. 

His eyes were a deep brown, the irises almost blending in with the pupils. His eyelashes were long and curled, the kind girls attempted to mimic with falsies. 

He opened his mouth to say something.

“Ah-” she warned him with a slight shake of her head. She wasn’t done looking at him, not ready to talk about the thing. 

He sighed. 

His mouth conveyed his anxiety. He was softly chewing on the right side of his full bottom lip. His forehead and nose were shining with sweat. 

“Okay,” she said, “go ahead.”

“I don’t think we should be together anymore,” he blurted.

She was quiet, looking into his eyes. They looked desperate. Her’s shined with tears waiting to fall, but she didn’t blink. 

“You’re right,” she said simply. This was the thing. This was what she’d been feeling for the past two weeks. The thing she’d been avoiding. That was it.

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Via Daily Prompt

Float

I am awoken by screams. Not horror movie, helpless girl piercing the silent night with her voice kind of screams (6’2″ 175lb Hector is hardly Sydney Prescott), but screams nonetheless.

“What?! What?!” I ask, freaking out about his freak out. 

He’s not lying next to me anymore, but is instead standing in the opposite corner of the room, terrified. 

“You were floating!” he whisper-yells.

“Oh shut up, I was not,” I say dismissively. 

“Babe you were floating–”

“Was not!”

“YOUR ENTIRE BODY WAS SUSPENDED IN THE AIR! WHAT DO YOU CALL THAT, ASH?!”

I’m quiet. I thought he was messing around, but he’s never yelled at me like that before. My eyes well up. 

His face falls. “Baby, I’m sorry, I don’t…” He looks like he wants to come comfort me, but he’s scared I might go full exorcist on him.

“Will you please just come back to bed?” I ask, scared. He’s reluctant, but after a few seconds he climbs in next to me. I burrow my head into his chest and he wraps me in his arms. 

“Just let gravity do it’s thing, babe, okay? No more defiance.” 

We lay down to cuddle. I feel safe in his arms, and after a minute or two of racing thoughts, I calm down. Hopefully anymore floating I do will be only in my dreams. 

Daily Prompt|| Tempted

“Ya know that feeling you get when you know–you KNOW– that you shouldn’t do something? That voice in your head that always seems to sound like your mother no matter how old you get? That feeling and that voice, they gang up on you to make sure you don’t order another shot, you don’t smile at that guy looking for trouble, you don’t do anything stupid, right? Well, I have a surprisingly strong talent for ignoring that feeling and that voice.”

He stops kissing my neck long enough to say “Thank God for that.”

He was temptation, I was tempted.

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via Daily Prompt: Tempted

From the Book I Will Write One Day: Frosting Part 2

“Why not?” he whined.

“Come on,” I sighed, ” you know why not.”

“We don’t have to do anything, we can just talk.” I stared at him.

“And why can’t we do that here?”

“It’s just more private there!” He was frustrated now, a scowl on his face. “Fine!” he said, his voice raised.

“What do you want me to do?” I pleaded. He just shook his head, suddenly calm.

“Nothing, never mind,” he said simply. I got up from the couch an went upstairs. Janie’s room was open and empty, so I went in and sat on the bed.

What are you doing? I asked myself for the second time that night. You know you want to. Just do it, no one will ever know–his girlfriend sure won’t. Besides, he obviously likes you more than her, otherwise he wouldn’t be doing this.

I took out my phone and sent him a message, “Come upstairs.” I waited three minutes with no response. I checked downstairs and he was sitting on the couch, still cradling his beer. I went and tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned I told him to check his phone. He said he hadn’t gotten anything, so I whispered for him to meet me upstairs in five minutes. He said he had to go soon because his brother was waiting for him. Taken aback, I told him it was fine, just go. He didn’t move and I went back upstairs.

Sitting on the bed I was really nervous. Then a thought occurred to me. This isn’t my room. Silly, I know since it was so obvious, but I had forgotten. Technically, it wasn’t Janie’s either, she was just staying there. I went out to find the owner and ask to use it. She said, “Sure!” and showed me how to lock the door. She pulled out a futon for me so we didn’t have to use her bed. I wasn’t planning on going that far regardless. She left.

*Knock knock knock*

I got up to open the door, and there he was. I let him in and the shut the door behind him. I sat on the futon.

“So what’s up?” he asked

What’s up?” He looked at me expectantly, eyebrows raised. “What do you think?” I was the exasperated one now.

“I don’t know, I thought maybe you wanted to talk?”

“You think I brought you to a room upstairs at a party to talk,” I repeated in a monotone.

“No,” he shook his head slightly, finally realizing what I wanted. He sat on the futon and I straddled him. I leaned in to kiss him and closed my eyes. I felt him grow harder as I bit his bottom lip before sticking my tongue in his mouth.

This kiss felt different, wrong. His mouth was too wet, we were sloppy. He stopped me. “How far is this going?” He was searching my eyes in my silence.

I slowly unbuttoned my shirt. Once it was off I got anxious. He spanked me, snapping me out of my thoughts. I pulled away from him.

“What, you don’t like that anymore?”

“I never really did, to be honest.” He looked confused.

“Okay… well, what do you like?” he asked.

“Pull my hair,” I said simply. He grabbed a hand full of my curls and yanked my head back. My heart sped up and I kissed him again, more aggressively this time. He unbuttoned my shorts and I took off his shirt.

His body was just as I remembered it, and the familiarity of it pushed the guilt out of mind. “Do you have a condom?”