#31DaysOfSelfLove: #day30 At last. 30 days of self love and tomorrow is the big day. There is only one thing left (aside from the big finish) and that is the all encompassing, laughs and giggles, quiet and pensive, supportive, frustrated, quick to laugh, quick to ask, quick to wit, stubborn, smiley, searching, confused quite a bit, curious always, dramatic (as much as I detest that word), driven, daring, some say bubbly, some say caring, some say darling, some say exaggerated, colorful, creative, and bottomless personality. In the past, you were called loud, so you hated your voice. In the past you were called aggressive, so you pretended not to care. In the past you were called spineless, so you pushed a little too hard. In the past you were called bossy, so you thought you’d never be liked. In the past you were called too nice, so you tried your hand at bitter. In the past you were told that you were too much, so you tried to not be at all. In the past you were told that you were not good enough, so you tried to change yourself for them. My dearest personality, they were liars and you are perfect in every way - for the simple fact that you are mine and I am loved and we are whole.

TOMORROW. “Listen” single and music video release. I think I’m finally brave enough. Stay tuned…

#31DaysOfSelfLove: #day30 At last. 30 days of self love and tomorrow is the big day. There is only one thing left (aside from the big finish) and that is the all encompassing, laughs and giggles, quiet and pensive, supportive, frustrated, quick to laugh, quick to ask, quick to wit, stubborn, smiley, searching, confused quite a bit, curious always, dramatic (as much as I detest that word), driven, daring, some say bubbly, some say caring, some say darling, some say exaggerated, colorful, creative, and bottomless personality. In the past, you were called loud, so you hated your voice. In the past you were called aggressive, so you pretended not to care. In the past you were called spineless, so you pushed a little too hard. In the past you were called bossy, so you thought you’d never be liked. In the past you were called too nice, so you tried your hand at bitter. In the past you were told that you were too much, so you tried to not be at all. In the past you were told that you were not good enough, so you tried to change yourself for them. My dearest personality, they were liars and you are perfect in every way - for the simple fact that you are mine and I am loved and we are whole.

TOMORROW. “Listen” single and music video release. I think I’m finally brave enough. Stay tuned…


#31DaysOfSelfLove: #day29 My stomach and I, we go way back. We’ve been around the block. We’ve loved each other, we’ve hated each other. We go to the gym. We sweat. We congratulate ourselves as the number on the scale goes down. Sometimes we ignore the brownie we just consumed and sometimes we chastise. There have been times when I’ve hated my stomach so much that I refuse to eat for weeks. For weeks. Yes, weeks. There have been times when I adored myself and allowed a meal where I gorged on pizza, pasta, and all things cheesy and still left with a smile. My stomach and I, we’ve been around the block. Sucking in, lifting up, buttoning pants, praying for my size, pulling, stretching, hiding love handles. But I cannot hide it forever. I can only do so much before people find me out for the phony that I am. I am not a curvy girl. I am a tiger with stripes across her stomach. I wear them with pride for they are apart of me and tell a long story of love and hate. In this moment, for the part of my body which I have the hardest time accepting as is, I choose love. Love for my stripes and love for my story. I declare love. #listen

#31DaysOfSelfLove: #day29 My stomach and I, we go way back. We’ve been around the block. We’ve loved each other, we’ve hated each other. We go to the gym. We sweat. We congratulate ourselves as the number on the scale goes down. Sometimes we ignore the brownie we just consumed and sometimes we chastise. There have been times when I’ve hated my stomach so much that I refuse to eat for weeks. For weeks. Yes, weeks. There have been times when I adored myself and allowed a meal where I gorged on pizza, pasta, and all things cheesy and still left with a smile. My stomach and I, we’ve been around the block. Sucking in, lifting up, buttoning pants, praying for my size, pulling, stretching, hiding love handles. But I cannot hide it forever. I can only do so much before people find me out for the phony that I am. I am not a curvy girl. I am a tiger with stripes across her stomach. I wear them with pride for they are apart of me and tell a long story of love and hate. In this moment, for the part of my body which I have the hardest time accepting as is, I choose love. Love for my stripes and love for my story. I declare love. #listen


#31DaysOfSelfLove: #day28 (Yesterday) Little girl, you are so loved. You don’t know it because you are free of worries, free of stress, free of pestering questions about the future, but you are going to grow up to be a strong, resilient, beautiful human being but before you become a butterfly, with wild, wonderful wings dancing in the sky, you must first test the ground as a caterpillar. This is going to be very difficult for you. The rocks will hurt. Scars shall remain. The dust kicked up by naive, jealous, and hurtful passerbys blinding. You will search the sky, always. You will beg the stars to waltz with you. You will hate being a young belly crawler and long to be with the greats who have cast their stories in the sky. But you must, it’s a part of growing up. It’s a part of your story. Your journey. One day, on an uneventful, average Tuesday, you will look in the mirror and know your face with pride and you will sprout your wings, you will lift from the ground, and you will know what it feels like to walk among the stars. Little girl, you are whole. Little girl, you are complete. Little girl, you are loved. Little girl, you have already made me so proud. Now open your wings open. You are star bound.

#31DaysOfSelfLove: #day28 (Yesterday) Little girl, you are so loved. You don’t know it because you are free of worries, free of stress, free of pestering questions about the future, but you are going to grow up to be a strong, resilient, beautiful human being but before you become a butterfly, with wild, wonderful wings dancing in the sky, you must first test the ground as a caterpillar. This is going to be very difficult for you. The rocks will hurt. Scars shall remain. The dust kicked up by naive, jealous, and hurtful passerbys blinding. You will search the sky, always. You will beg the stars to waltz with you. You will hate being a young belly crawler and long to be with the greats who have cast their stories in the sky. But you must, it’s a part of growing up. It’s a part of your story. Your journey. One day, on an uneventful, average Tuesday, you will look in the mirror and know your face with pride and you will sprout your wings, you will lift from the ground, and you will know what it feels like to walk among the stars. Little girl, you are whole. Little girl, you are complete. Little girl, you are loved. Little girl, you have already made me so proud. Now open your wings open. You are star bound.


#31DaysOfSelfLove: #day27 Some days you want to eat cake all day. Some days you know you can conquer. Some days you don’t feel like you’re built strong enough. Some day you could move a mountain with just the tips of your left hand. You believe and then you falter. You succeed and then you question everything. One thing always remains. Me. Passion. Passion for life, passion for career, passion for love, passion for leaving your mark. On days when “what’s the point” is the most commonly asked question, a fire still remains lit. Ideas, creativity, spirit…the wood that keeps the embers glowing orange. You’re not going to solve all the world’s problems in one day. You’re not going to complete all your goals right this moment. But that fiery passion glowing red hot is the catalyst for change and revolution. So, sometimes you want to sleep in past 10. THAT’S OKAY. I repeat: IT’S OKAY TO CUT YOURSELF A BREAK. Just make sure that when you wake up (and after coffee) you’ve got a match waiting to ignite.

#31DaysOfSelfLove: #day27 Some days you want to eat cake all day. Some days you know you can conquer. Some days you don’t feel like you’re built strong enough. Some day you could move a mountain with just the tips of your left hand. You believe and then you falter. You succeed and then you question everything. One thing always remains. Me. Passion. Passion for life, passion for career, passion for love, passion for leaving your mark. On days when “what’s the point” is the most commonly asked question, a fire still remains lit. Ideas, creativity, spirit…the wood that keeps the embers glowing orange. You’re not going to solve all the world’s problems in one day. You’re not going to complete all your goals right this moment. But that fiery passion glowing red hot is the catalyst for change and revolution. So, sometimes you want to sleep in past 10. THAT’S OKAY. I repeat: IT’S OKAY TO CUT YOURSELF A BREAK. Just make sure that when you wake up (and after coffee) you’ve got a match waiting to ignite.


#31DaysOfSelfLove: #day26 Loving yourself is so much more than just your hands, feet, and flaws. It’s an all encompassing, from birth to flight, bigger than your body appreciation for another minute lived. It’s saying thank you with each lift of your chest and beat of a rhythmic heart keeping time for your dance: life. I was the odd little girl with the big voice who asked the big questions. What is the purpose of life? Why was I born? Where am I going? Is there ice cream in heaven? To me, asking the big questions is like feeding my soul rich and delicious chocolate. Do I need chocolate to survive? Certainly not. But the sweetness adds to the taste of my life.  My soul is better when the big questions are asked. I’m often judged, by myself and by others, for looking and believing in the unknown. The things unseen. Fairies, angels, stones, and signs. But that is who I am. Imaginative, creative, and always, always searching in the stars for my next big question. My next piece of chocolate. And in the war between self-love and self-hate, there’s an old soul with all the answers, smiling at this new body of mine awkwardly stumbling and stammering through this life. My physical body? Yeah, I have my bad days. My soul? Looking to the stars with a mouthful of chocolate. #listentoselflove #listen

#31DaysOfSelfLove: #day26 Loving yourself is so much more than just your hands, feet, and flaws. It’s an all encompassing, from birth to flight, bigger than your body appreciation for another minute lived. It’s saying thank you with each lift of your chest and beat of a rhythmic heart keeping time for your dance: life. I was the odd little girl with the big voice who asked the big questions. What is the purpose of life? Why was I born? Where am I going? Is there ice cream in heaven? To me, asking the big questions is like feeding my soul rich and delicious chocolate. Do I need chocolate to survive? Certainly not. But the sweetness adds to the taste of my life. My soul is better when the big questions are asked. I’m often judged, by myself and by others, for looking and believing in the unknown. The things unseen. Fairies, angels, stones, and signs. But that is who I am. Imaginative, creative, and always, always searching in the stars for my next big question. My next piece of chocolate. And in the war between self-love and self-hate, there’s an old soul with all the answers, smiling at this new body of mine awkwardly stumbling and stammering through this life. My physical body? Yeah, I have my bad days. My soul? Looking to the stars with a mouthful of chocolate. #listentoselflove #listen


#31DaysOfSelfLove: #day25 I’m always thinking of the future. I never think of the “then” (left) and “now”(right). After a very long day of trudging through the songwriter minefields, I slowly made my way home. It had been a tough day and my mind began to wander to my neverending to-do list. Before I could stop myself, I was making a list of all the things I hadn’t accomplished in my career. Write a hit song. Record my second album. Tour internationally. Win a Grammy. Be better at guitar. Be better at singing. Be better in general. And on and on I went. I took no notice of the slow spiral into a fit of self loathing. Or maybe I did and I didn’t care to stop it. There wasn’t pride. There was angst. There wasn’t hope. There was impatience. When I arrived home I quickly got to work on today’s blog. I had every intention of writing about my shoulders but I couldn’t stand myself and I couldn’t stay focused. I knew I had something else on on my mind: my path. I’m writing this, even now, as I trudge through the lesson I need to learn. I have to trust this road I’m on. It’s the same path that brought me to where I am today. The same path I took my first steps on on September 2008 when I decided to try writing music on my own and performed at run-down cabaret somewhere in midtown that smelled like cigarettes and hopeful dreamers. I get so caught up in the future and what could be, I forget about the amazing journey I had to get here. I know it all happened for a reason because I am sitting here, alive and able to tell my story. And it’s a damn good one! Trusting the path is trusting myself. I’m not very good at that but I’m trying to get better. Each day is a blessing and is one step closer to my destiny. Stop searching for the path. You’re on it. #listentoselflove #listen

#31DaysOfSelfLove: #day25 I’m always thinking of the future. I never think of the “then” (left) and “now”(right). After a very long day of trudging through the songwriter minefields, I slowly made my way home. It had been a tough day and my mind began to wander to my neverending to-do list. Before I could stop myself, I was making a list of all the things I hadn’t accomplished in my career. Write a hit song. Record my second album. Tour internationally. Win a Grammy. Be better at guitar. Be better at singing. Be better in general. And on and on I went. I took no notice of the slow spiral into a fit of self loathing. Or maybe I did and I didn’t care to stop it. There wasn’t pride. There was angst. There wasn’t hope. There was impatience. When I arrived home I quickly got to work on today’s blog. I had every intention of writing about my shoulders but I couldn’t stand myself and I couldn’t stay focused. I knew I had something else on on my mind: my path. I’m writing this, even now, as I trudge through the lesson I need to learn. I have to trust this road I’m on. It’s the same path that brought me to where I am today. The same path I took my first steps on on September 2008 when I decided to try writing music on my own and performed at run-down cabaret somewhere in midtown that smelled like cigarettes and hopeful dreamers. I get so caught up in the future and what could be, I forget about the amazing journey I had to get here. I know it all happened for a reason because I am sitting here, alive and able to tell my story. And it’s a damn good one! Trusting the path is trusting myself. I’m not very good at that but I’m trying to get better. Each day is a blessing and is one step closer to my destiny. Stop searching for the path. You’re on it. #listentoselflove #listen


#31DaysOfSelfLove: #day24 I haven’t always valued what I value today. It’s funny how not liking yourself can do that to you. I spoke first, listened never. I stood my ground, hardly bending. I was right, you were wrong. Money was power, status was everything, and I never had enough of either. In the creation of who I wanted to be as a young adult (both physically and mentally), I lost myself. I forgot that the real finer things in life don’t only sparkle in the day but in the dark when they’re needed the most. When your back is broken from hate. When your pride has been torn. When you’re alone, but not really. It’s in those moments that the things you value come in handy (or not at all). When I hit my lowest of lows, my values play an important part of the climb up, out of the mud, brush off the dirt, build up my heart, and try, try again. What I value makes me who I am. When I valued crap things (like status, money, and power) my life was crap - shocker! Now I value things that are awesome (like a hard days work, family, and time spent having a good cup of coffee with a friend on a Tuesday evening) and guess what? My life is pretty damn awesome. I have days when I wish I had more, more, more but then I remember to look at my feet and remind myself that it wasn’t money or power or status or any other crap value that brought me to the place I am standing right now. It was determination. It was trust. It was giving and receiving support from others. It was quality time spent. It was family. It was hard work. It is the truest, honest values of my heart that breed success. And that is a lesson I must never forget. #listentoselflove #listen

#31DaysOfSelfLove: #day24 I haven’t always valued what I value today. It’s funny how not liking yourself can do that to you. I spoke first, listened never. I stood my ground, hardly bending. I was right, you were wrong. Money was power, status was everything, and I never had enough of either. In the creation of who I wanted to be as a young adult (both physically and mentally), I lost myself. I forgot that the real finer things in life don’t only sparkle in the day but in the dark when they’re needed the most. When your back is broken from hate. When your pride has been torn. When you’re alone, but not really. It’s in those moments that the things you value come in handy (or not at all). When I hit my lowest of lows, my values play an important part of the climb up, out of the mud, brush off the dirt, build up my heart, and try, try again. What I value makes me who I am. When I valued crap things (like status, money, and power) my life was crap - shocker! Now I value things that are awesome (like a hard days work, family, and time spent having a good cup of coffee with a friend on a Tuesday evening) and guess what? My life is pretty damn awesome. I have days when I wish I had more, more, more but then I remember to look at my feet and remind myself that it wasn’t money or power or status or any other crap value that brought me to the place I am standing right now. It was determination. It was trust. It was giving and receiving support from others. It was quality time spent. It was family. It was hard work. It is the truest, honest values of my heart that breed success. And that is a lesson I must never forget. #listentoselflove #listen


#31DaysOfSelfLove: #day23 I am not built of right angles and straight lines. Look closely. You will not find any edges or cliffs. I am made of a series of curves that never end. From the top of my head to the tips of my toes, I am all bend and no break. The best things in life are round: hot air balloons, pillows, the petals of a rose, the moon. Slide your hand along my spine - hilltops, smooth and wide. It’s in those curves my story is told. There is nothing about me that is without imperfection. I am not exact. I am curved. I am not built of right angles and straight lines. And thank god for that. How boring would that be? #listentoselflove #listen

#31DaysOfSelfLove: #day23 I am not built of right angles and straight lines. Look closely. You will not find any edges or cliffs. I am made of a series of curves that never end. From the top of my head to the tips of my toes, I am all bend and no break. The best things in life are round: hot air balloons, pillows, the petals of a rose, the moon. Slide your hand along my spine - hilltops, smooth and wide. It’s in those curves my story is told. There is nothing about me that is without imperfection. I am not exact. I am curved. I am not built of right angles and straight lines. And thank god for that. How boring would that be? #listentoselflove #listen


#31DaysOfSelfLove: #day23 I am not built of right angles and straight lines. Look closely. You will not find any edges or cliffs. I am made of a series of curves that never end. From the top of my head to the tips of my toes, I am all bend and no break. The best things in life are round: hot air balloons, pillows, the petals of a rose, the moon. Slide your hand along my spine - hilltops, smooth and wide. It’s in those curves my story is told. There is nothing about me that is without imperfection. I am not exact. I am curved. I am not built of right angles and straight lines. And thank god for that. How boring would that be? #listentoselflove #listen

#31DaysOfSelfLove: #day23 I am not built of right angles and straight lines. Look closely. You will not find any edges or cliffs. I am made of a series of curves that never end. From the top of my head to the tips of my toes, I am all bend and no break. The best things in life are round: hot air balloons, pillows, the petals of a rose, the moon. Slide your hand along my spine - hilltops, smooth and wide. It’s in those curves my story is told. There is nothing about me that is without imperfection. I am not exact. I am curved. I am not built of right angles and straight lines. And thank god for that. How boring would that be? #listentoselflove #listen


#31DaysOfSelfLove: #day22 I haven’t always cared. I wore the same four shirts everyday in high school. One thing is still the same: I wear chucks and skinny jeans. Skirts above the knees. Hair up, hair down. Boots so worn I can feel the ground below my feet. With these weathered leathered soles, I am complete. Pair them with black jeans, rhinestones on the seams, and I am a walking power outfit. Style is an outlet I choose. I am a canvas. My paint? My hat, my dress, my pants, my shoes. My style. And I got a lil’ bit. #listentoselflove #listen

#31DaysOfSelfLove: #day22 I haven’t always cared. I wore the same four shirts everyday in high school. One thing is still the same: I wear chucks and skinny jeans. Skirts above the knees. Hair up, hair down. Boots so worn I can feel the ground below my feet. With these weathered leathered soles, I am complete. Pair them with black jeans, rhinestones on the seams, and I am a walking power outfit. Style is an outlet I choose. I am a canvas. My paint? My hat, my dress, my pants, my shoes. My style. And I got a lil’ bit. #listentoselflove #listen


#31DaysOfSelfLove: #day21 (Yesterday) #MIND: I’ve never been good at math. I’ve never been good at Chemistry. I was never one to memorize formulas. I was never one to enjoy school. In fact, if it hadn’t been for the arts, I probably would have dropped out. There were days when the only reason I would get out of bed was because I had rehearsal that day and I couldn’t attend rehearsal if I skipped school. Off to chemistry I went, script in hand, mind in my score. Math just doesn’t come easy to me. Does that make me stupid? I excel in areas that my friends don’t. I would never call them stupid. And yet, I bully myself when I cannot remember the word for that one thing I was just talking about (this happens far too often) or use the wrong word (again, happens too often). Does this make me stupid? Does not knowing make anyone stupid? Can the will and determination to learn and grow in mind be good enough to brush aside my own hurtful words? I work with musicians who can glance at a piece of music and play it as if they’d been performing it for years. Lightning fast. I don’t work like that. It takes me longer and it takes me longer to add, multiply, and divide but that does not make me stupid. What makes anyone stupid is a lack of desire to grow. Lord knows, that just ain’t the case here. See what I did there? #listen #listentoselflove


#31DaysOfSelfLove: #Day20 The same girl that wrote her first song at 15 sitting on the front porch of the house she grew up in, the same girl that wrote a play in one sitting, the same girl who dreams of Paris and Rome at 2pm on a Tuesday, the same girl who paints and cooks without a beginning middle or end, the same girl who still writes hand written letters and collects fine markers, twine, and stamps, the same girl who has five boxes of books and only one box of kitchen supplies, the same girl who believes in fairies and talking trees, the same girl who feels more alive when she is creating than she does when she’s doing anything else, that same girl believes imagination is more important than knowledge and curiosity is the beginning of every wonderful adventure. She’s still in there, that little girl that believes in things unseen. Let her be and let her be free. #listentoselflove

#31DaysOfSelfLove: #Day20 The same girl that wrote her first song at 15 sitting on the front porch of the house she grew up in, the same girl that wrote a play in one sitting, the same girl who dreams of Paris and Rome at 2pm on a Tuesday, the same girl who paints and cooks without a beginning middle or end, the same girl who still writes hand written letters and collects fine markers, twine, and stamps, the same girl who has five boxes of books and only one box of kitchen supplies, the same girl who believes in fairies and talking trees, the same girl who feels more alive when she is creating than she does when she’s doing anything else, that same girl believes imagination is more important than knowledge and curiosity is the beginning of every wonderful adventure. She’s still in there, that little girl that believes in things unseen. Let her be and let her be free. #listentoselflove


#31DaysOfSelfLove: #day19 At the end of every day I ask myself one very simple question: “Did you show love?” It’s not the answer that matters but my consciousness in striving for the answer to always, always be a “yes”. I want to change the world. I want to make it better. I want to radiate love. But, I know, that in order to create positive change, it must come from a state of wholeness. It must come from a full heart. I was taught at a young age that an open hand is much better than a fist. An open heart is much better than - anything. I have been loved and I have been buried. Every day is another opportunity to mend broken fences and heal wounded hearts. But it starts with my own. It starts in my heart. #listen #listentoselflove

#31DaysOfSelfLove: #day19 At the end of every day I ask myself one very simple question: “Did you show love?” It’s not the answer that matters but my consciousness in striving for the answer to always, always be a “yes”. I want to change the world. I want to make it better. I want to radiate love. But, I know, that in order to create positive change, it must come from a state of wholeness. It must come from a full heart. I was taught at a young age that an open hand is much better than a fist. An open heart is much better than - anything. I have been loved and I have been buried. Every day is another opportunity to mend broken fences and heal wounded hearts. But it starts with my own. It starts in my heart. #listen #listentoselflove


#31DaysOfSelfLove: #day18 Booty. Butt. Ass. Caboose. Call it whatever you’d like, I’ve just never been a big fan of mine - but - put me in a brand new pair of boy short panties and watch as I strut like a Victoria’s Secret model in 10 inch heels walking the runway like a boss. I went out and bought a new pair today (blue) and shook it on the dance floor (my bedroom) to “Baby Got Back” (by myself) and all I remember thinking was  “YEAH SHE DOES”. #listentoselflove #listen

#31DaysOfSelfLove: #day18 Booty. Butt. Ass. Caboose. Call it whatever you’d like, I’ve just never been a big fan of mine - but - put me in a brand new pair of boy short panties and watch as I strut like a Victoria’s Secret model in 10 inch heels walking the runway like a boss. I went out and bought a new pair today (blue) and shook it on the dance floor (my bedroom) to “Baby Got Back” (by myself) and all I remember thinking was “YEAH SHE DOES”. #listentoselflove #listen


#31DaysOfSelfLove: #day17 I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Every woman worries about saggy boobs. Also, hair in odd places, stretch marks, “are my nipples too big/small?”, pale skin, and then, of course, cup size. My ladies have always been big and the majority of my post-pre-teen life has been about hiding the fact that my girls are big. I tell this to most lady loving humans and they are shocked. “Hide them? Why would you want to hide them?” Well, world, here’s why: the very culture that encourages large breasted women to flaunt their goodies also intimidates us by only showing perky, eat your chin, perfect boobs in the media. That is not average. That is design. That is not obtainable. That is smoke and mirrors. And although my tatas runneth over, and seem ideal to those that don’t have to deal with the back pain, bad posture, and hassle that is buying new bras, I can’t compete with that. And I’m not alone. Today I texted several lady friends one simple question: “Do you like your boobs?” Every single answer? “No.” Small, large, perky, low, white, black, purple - all the same. Our boobs just aren’t good enough to reach the ideal. But what is the ideal and will we ever reach it? When will the tata comparison game come to an end? I thought about this today while I let them hang out. For real. I walked around my new apartment, strutting my stuff in the buff and I was surprised by the feelings that ran over me. Pride. Liberation. Strength. I took that photoshopped, perky image in my mind of that lift and tuck version of my chest and smashed it to pieces. Learning the lesson of loving myself becomes a lot easier when I remember that my truest opinion is the most important. And my truest opinion says “damn girl, that’s a fine set of knockers you’ve got there.” #listentoselflove #listen

#31DaysOfSelfLove: #day17 I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Every woman worries about saggy boobs. Also, hair in odd places, stretch marks, “are my nipples too big/small?”, pale skin, and then, of course, cup size. My ladies have always been big and the majority of my post-pre-teen life has been about hiding the fact that my girls are big. I tell this to most lady loving humans and they are shocked. “Hide them? Why would you want to hide them?” Well, world, here’s why: the very culture that encourages large breasted women to flaunt their goodies also intimidates us by only showing perky, eat your chin, perfect boobs in the media. That is not average. That is design. That is not obtainable. That is smoke and mirrors. And although my tatas runneth over, and seem ideal to those that don’t have to deal with the back pain, bad posture, and hassle that is buying new bras, I can’t compete with that. And I’m not alone. Today I texted several lady friends one simple question: “Do you like your boobs?” Every single answer? “No.” Small, large, perky, low, white, black, purple - all the same. Our boobs just aren’t good enough to reach the ideal. But what is the ideal and will we ever reach it? When will the tata comparison game come to an end? I thought about this today while I let them hang out. For real. I walked around my new apartment, strutting my stuff in the buff and I was surprised by the feelings that ran over me. Pride. Liberation. Strength. I took that photoshopped, perky image in my mind of that lift and tuck version of my chest and smashed it to pieces. Learning the lesson of loving myself becomes a lot easier when I remember that my truest opinion is the most important. And my truest opinion says “damn girl, that’s a fine set of knockers you’ve got there.” #listentoselflove #listen