A Love Letter To The Artists, Creators, And Dreamers

A Love Letter To The Artists, Creators, And Dreamers

You are color. Your biggest fear is living a normal life. A stifled life. A boring life. A 9-5, fluorescent filled, gray cubicle life. The kind of security the average suburbian dreams of is your slow poison. And so is the thought of being average. It brings you to the edge of insanity even more so than the thought of settling.

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Here's Why I Can't Have Kids. You Can Stop Asking Now. (A Weird Infertility Tale)

Here's Why I Can't Have Kids. You Can Stop Asking Now. (A Weird Infertility Tale)

If you're confused as to why I'm even writing about something so personal as infertility or weird health problems, I can only assume we aren't real life friends. And also, you have never read any of my blogs before. So, let me introduce myself. I'm Brit, and I'm about to talk about my uterus now, ok

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The Memory Keepers

The Memory Keepers

My mom's photo albums are so ugly. I mean, they are basically a bunch of photos clinging onto black construction paper with those jenky - now yellowish - photo corners. You know the ones. And since they were assembled decades ago, everything is just barely hanging on. One aggressive page turn and we might lose great grandma Mildred bringing her first born home from the hospital. Despite all this, I've always been fascinated by these dusty, old memories.

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Free Yourself From The Prison Of Approval

Free Yourself From The Prison Of Approval

This is a very important blog for me to write because I see so many people living miserable lives and I used to be one of them. My people-pleasing-empathetic tendencies held me captive most of my life - committing to things I didn't want to do, staying in relationships and jobs longer than I should have, silencing my thoughts for fear of hurting someone's feelings.

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When All Your Beautiful Plans Go To Shit

When All Your Beautiful Plans Go To Shit

I feel uniquely qualified to write this blog, and not just because I just finished watching Dirty Dancing for the 7,294th time. And actually, I lied. Not about Dirty Dancing - I would never do that - but about being uniquely qualified. I'm no more qualified to write this than my neighbor, or my mom, or that guy walking his dog in front of my window, or you. Do you know anyone whose life has gone according to plan? Probably not. And if so, they're probably too perfect and annoying to be actual friends with. But what about when it goes. really. really. wrong?

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