It’s kind of a funny story.

July 31, 2013 § Leave a comment

My summer, for lack of a better term, has been a coming-of-age movie waiting to happen. I got new two jobs and made a bunch of new friends. I have learned to ¬†support myself financially for the first time in my life. I’m moving onto a new living situation, and I’ve been exploring different people instead of running away from them. For someone that used to let other people fix her problems for her, whether they be financial or emotional, these are pretty big steps. I’m happy with my progress, but I still need more work.

I spent the past year trying to keep my sexual and emotional relationships separate. Whenever I’ve tried to mix those two, I’ve ended up getting hurt. Becoming entangled with your friends is a stupid idea – it ruins things, so I’ve made sure to compartmentalize those aspects of my life. I’ve kept anyone I’m physically interested far away from my friends and even farther away from actually getting to know me. And then I met a boy.

To be fair, I met a lot of boys this summer. They were all good for different things, just like people in general. Every human has a story to tell and a lesson to teach, and I value that. But he was different.

It has been a really long time, like, a REALLY long time, since I have met someone I was so struck by instantly. In retrospect it sounds kind of crazy to write it out – I only met him once and I’ll probably never see him again. He wasn’t extraordinary, we just liked the same things, but that night I truly saw him as God’s gift. It’s gone now, but I don’t think that’s the point. It doesn’t matter what happened that night, it doesn’t matter who he is, or where we were, or the mess I made in my friend’s parents’ yard. It matters how he made me feel. And it matters that I not only needed to write about it, I’m still smiling at the memory.

There is something so beautiful about a memory that is fleeting, about meeting someone you’ll never really know but they made you feel ways you can’t describe. I’ve spent so long being so angry, and when he kissed me I didn’t feel love, or devotion, at least not to him. But I loved myself again for the first time in a long time. I let myself be totally vulnerable to a new experience. I wasn’t expecting him to judge me, I didn’t dread the idea that he might try to cuddle with me after, I wasn’t horrified by the idea of having to talk to him in the morning. And I wasn’t afraid for him to leave, and I wasn’t afraid of him hurting me. Because I can take care of myself now, and it’s no longer a negative thing I do to keep myself safe. I take care of myself because I want to, and it’s satisfying. But most importantly…

He made me laugh. Not a giggle while we were flirting, not a smirk, but my big, obnoxious, choking shriek that I only let people I trust hear me make. ‘Cause it’s hideous, but dammit, it’s my real laugh and if something’s funny, I’m going to do my thing. And the best part was, he made me laugh a lot.

I tell a lot of stories, and I’ve told this one before and I’m sure I’ll tell it again. But for now I’ll just be sparing with the details and hope this makes you think of something wonderful that happened to you – something you don’t want to share with the world, but something that makes you happy. And that happiness itself is what’s worth sharing.


An Open Letter to David Hookstead

July 17, 2013 § 1 Comment

Yo Hookstead – I strongly dislike you. And I have a list of reasons.

One, you’re an idiot:


(Cool story, bro.)

And two, you’re disrespectful to women:


(Ladies, seriously? Have any of you actually slept with this guy?)

But the biggest, and most important reason I dislike you is because you claim to speak for the UW community.

You speak falsely. And this is dangerous.

As an employee of the Division of Student Life who works as an ambassador to incoming freshmen and transfer students, I connect on a daily basis with people who are new to UW. They are excited to be a part of an inclusive, intelligent, open-minded, and passionate community. They want to be challenged by thought of others, share their own opinions, but most importantly, feel welcomed and safe regardless of their background, gender, hometown, political beliefs, or sexual preference. And the things you post (which you claim are not your own thoughts) are damaging. They are cruel. And most importantly, they’re moronic.

Case in point:



Look, you have a right to believe whatever you want to believe. Your politics are your business and I believe wholeheartedly that if you want to buy every gun in America and believe Stand Your Ground is a good idea, go for it. You are within your rights to do so. But to thump your politics using the University of Wisconsin’s name, a name synonymous with open rhetoric, communication, and understanding, you are making a mockery of an institution we all love so much by claiming to speak for it all on your own.¬†You are not UW. We are all UW.

Where Am I?

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