Beauty

I would like to take a moment to NOT talk about picking or drinking. I just wanted to share something beautiful I was privileged to see last week- When Autumn and Winter meet:

Powerful

Have the courage not to be simply a cowering victim. Sometimes you are trapped in a corner because you think that's all you can do. It's fight or flight. And many times, we get tired of fighting and take a rest, and shrink back, and forget to come out of our shells for a while. We forget that not having total control doesnt mean having zero power. Control and power are two different things. As are control and strength. Take the struggle moment by moment. Stop, breathe, close your eyes, and remember today that you are powerful.

The "Skin Tool"

So, about a month ago, I bought what I believe they call a "comedone extractor", aka the "Tweezerman Ltd Skin Tool".

My reasons? I figured if I was going to mess with my skin, I might as well use a sterile tool made especially for removing black and white heads (since having sonething "in" my skin is by far the biggest trigger for me) that claimed to be "gentle" on the skin, rather than my dirty, damaging fingernails.

At least my intentions were good, right?But I really don't know what I was thinking. And I must say, I have mixed feelings. On the one hand, it has helped me get that urge out without doing near as much damage on some of my trouble spots. But on the other hand, there are other times when it leaves huge welts that I just want to mess with more and leaves me looking like I have chicken pox.

I've decided that there may be a time and place for such a tool, but in the hands of a dermatillomaniac is not one of them.

Allowing myself to take yet another "tool" to my face is not what I need. It will only perpetuate the idea of messing with and "perfecting" my skin.

My skin is beautiful. And those blackheads, whiteheads, scabs, and scars are there for a reason, even if I don't like them.

Mother Nature knows what she's doing. It's a rare event that she doesn't heal me when I'm sick, or heal my wounds, no matter how many times I mess with them. And I need to meditate more on the concept of letting her take care of my sores and skin instead of trying to have control. Perhaps envisioning that I have my own personal skin care-taker will help me leave it alone.

And in the meantime, the "skin tool" is getting put away...maybe even thrown away.


I will heal.

Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones, But Words Will Never LEAVE Me

Even if you think you’ve let go of pain, you usually never forget the things that caused it. As a potential future English teacher and an avid writer, I’m familiar with the power words have. But I’m also familiar with them because I’m human, and have been both dazzled and hurt by them. Sometimes I wonder if the fact that I recall hurtful words means I have yet to let go of them or the pain that came from them. So in an attempt to explore this concept, I present to you a list of the hurtful things that have been said to me throughout my life that have managed to stay with me. Perhaps exploring their significance will tell me something about why they still pop into my head sometimes. This is a self-therapy thing that I don't expect readers to take 100% interest in. This is mostly for my sake. But before I start, I would like to inform you that there will be a "Part Two" to this post, containing POSITIVE words I've learned from. Because I don't want to focus solely on the negative.


The “OUCH!” List:

“Shoes from the dumpster”

In second grade, I moved to a new school. I had this pair of second-hand tennis shoes. In fact, I recall them being a pair of  "MacGregor" shoes, which was actually a sports shoe brand. But they were what fit and it was what we could afford. They were about as white as a messy seven-year-old who played in the dirt could keep an already-dingy pair of shoes. There were snotty girls in my class with much nicer things to wear. I will never forget the day I got made fun of by a group of girls for having “shoes from the dumpster”. I cried, and defended myself by saying that my parents didn’t have a lot of money- that we were poor. Because really, we were. Six children, one income, and half a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch most days and milk in a re-used mini Sunny D bottle instead of school lunches with chocolate milk cartons like all the regular kids had. I didn’t say we were poor to manipulate anyone, but after that, they acted like they cared. They were more kind to me, and would sometimes give me their fruit roll-ups and other small food items at lunch, even though I never asked for anything. One of the girls even brought me some of her old clothes to help- I specifically recall a maroon skirt with white roses that I wore to church for years after that, and a pair of stretchy black velvet pants with fringe on the hem that my mother hated because they collected cat hair like a magnet. I didn’t connect the dots at the time that they were doing me favors because they thought I needed help. I simply thought they were done teasing me and had decided to be nice and be my friends. But they also spread the word to all my classmates, who had older siblings in my sisters’ and brother’s grades, and my siblings later confronted me about how the “rumors” got started. I denied that I had said anything, but got scared that my parents would find out and get mad at me. I guess even at seven, I knew that being poor wasn’t something you wanted to announce to the world. So I turned around and later told those same girls that our family had some good luck and we weren’t poor anymore.

Why I think this has stayed with me: I guess it’s a good example for me that sometimes all you need to change someone’s behavior toward you is establish empathy. And that sometimes people are mean about things when they don’t understand why you behave, dress, or do something differently than they do or that is the social norm. This entire blog is about empathy. So people might understand me, and that I might show others that I understand them too. I hope I’m doing a good job.



“Women should/shouldn’t/can’t/belong etc.”

This is a huge one. I was raised to be "a good, godly woman". There are too many individual comments to list, but I think you can get the gist.

Why I think this has stayed with me: My worth, purpose, and abilities were questioned from a very young age. I would be more worried if this hadn’t stayed with me. All I can do is learn from it and make the effort never to do that to anyone else, and to make sure that when and if I have children, I’m careful about what I tell them about themselves based on gender.


“The talking radio”

This is a long story, which I will ironically make short. I moved to a new school again in fourth grade, and wanted to turn over a new leaf. I wanted to be a friendly social butterfly. Instead, I got made fun of by the popular group for talking too much. They called me “the talking radio”. This was the same year this boy named Scotty constantly tormented me for accidentally farting in music class. In fact, he teased me about that until the first year of high school. And then he moved away. Scotty once made a bargain with me- that if I went all of lunch without talking, he would give me his string cheese. That whole lunch, he said mean, awful things to try and get me to speak up so I would lose the bet. But my love for string cheese was greater than my hate for him. For a skinny girl, I sure do love food. I won. But that was only one of many many instances where I was made fun of for talking. Instead of making the friends I desperately wanted, I was ostracized. I moved to a new school again the next year.

Why I think this has stayed with me: Self-expression is important to me. I don’t do well with being shut up or shut down. If you interrupt me or don’t listen, or consistently never answer me, I will begin to question how much you care about me. Also, I'm a girl of words. As mentioned before, I’m an avid writer. If I feel like my words aren’t important, it bums me out.

“You should find a friend who appreciates you more”/ “Well Heather is more popular than you, so I’d rather hang out with her”.

Two instances. Two friends. Both in middle school. Because middle school sucks, and everyone is so busy trying to figure themselves out in a big and new environment that they often forget the people who love them. This is how I started my days as a loner that are still going on to this day. This is how I realized I was an introvert and that I didn’t like hanging around people too much because they always disappointed me and seldom shared my interests. Even now, it’s hard to find a good friend. Because how many 20 year old girls roll their eyes at Rhianna and Adele concerts, and just about flip their shit over the chance to see the Moody Blues? Anyhow, the pain of losing people I thought I could count on really shook me up. But the words they did it with truly cut. Sometimes it’s like people know the worst thing to say to make a situation as painful for you as possible.

Why I think this has stayed with me: Honestly, it prepared me. Because as I gained and lost friends later on in life, I grew to expect it. And it didn’t really hurt anymore. Because I sort of grew to consider myself a Lilly-pad. People spend a while with me, but quickly hop away when a more appealing opportunity comes. I’m a stepping stone on their journey to the other side of the garden. And I’ve come to accept and expect that.

“She’s like my sister”

I bet you’re thinking: But why did that hurt you to hear? Because one day I saw the Facebook profile picture below (I believe it had the caption “you give me butterflies”), and realized that I had been blatantly lied to (either that or incest was his thing and I just never knew).

That’s my first love and his “sister-like” friend who soon replaced me as his girlfriend. No real names will be named. I do try on some level to keep everyone’s privacy that happens to be involved in my soap opera. This picture was already on the internet years ago.This is not a slanderous blog entry- simply the most truthful account of my experiences that I can provide. Simply imagine this is a photo of your very recent and still-loved ex kissing someone who had been in the picture all alone and wasn’t supposed to be a threat (but had been plotting to take your place the whole time), and you will feel what I felt when I first saw this picture at age 17. Ouch! I bet the next thing you're thinking is: If this was years ago, why do you have a picture of that? Isn't it a little stalkerish? Isn't that focusing a lot on the past? Actually, I thought I had gotten rid of this picture from my computer a long time ago. So why did I have it in the first place? It was a tool I used to get over the relationship because it reminded me of the deceit that had gone down, and gave me a good visual of the new reality I was living in. I'm a very visual person. I’m proud to say that though the very thought of this picture used to bring me to tears, I now look at it and see nothing but a pair of far-away strangers I never really new. It no longer brings out any true emotion or response other than: “Oh well. I don’t care anymore. The karma bus ran him over a long time ago. Thanks for the lessons, Jerri. I found someone later who cared a lot more than you ever did, even if he’s gone now too. Have a nice life. And I do mean that.”

Why I think this has stayed with me: Aside from the obvious fact that you never really forget your first love and compare all other relationships to it (for better or worse) for maybe the rest of your life, to me, having changed feelings is like cheating if you don’t at least tell your partner things have shifted and/or you’ve found a new love interest. If there’s one thing you ought to know about me, it’s that truth withheld or postponed will ALWAYS hurt me more than truth told right from the start. Think you’re doing someone a favor by waiting to give them a harsh dose of honesty? Guess what: you’re not. Knowing I wasn’t worth telling the truth to is a rotten and belittling feeling. And it’s happened too many times.

"I bet there are plenty of prettier girls out there that don’t nag as much as you do (and give better blowjobs)”

“I would trade you in for a harem of whores” (and after I objected)“You can be my main whore, though, maybe.” (still not sure if the whole thing was just a joke, but it was said a couple times).

“I’m gonna go find some other little girl’s cherry to pop”

“I took advantage of you and it was easy”. 

Now, let me set the record straight, and say that I do not hold these words against the persons who said them. They were all said on different occasions, and I believe all were said while under the influence of substances. I chose to group them together because they all target my sexuality and sexual worth. All of them link my sexuality with being not worth sticking around for…as disposable. I never truly took them to heart, because I know I'm worth more than to be just another whore in a group or another notch on the belt, and I know I am niether. A playboy bunny or hooters girl has nothing on me except maybe a few cup sizes.


Those words are recent enough that I don’t feel the need to explain why they have stayed with me. And they are powerful enough and specific enough words that I think anyone would understand why they hurt. Some words are just flat out heartless. But they matter more to me because one of the peope who said them was my sexual first. So to be told by the one you love and the only person in the world who has known you that way that you’re sexually disposable…it kind of knocks you on your ass. Whether they're in their right mind or not. And whether it's true or false.

“Ew”. Yes, one word. One word directed at my poor skin after I had already had a hard day with it. 

Little needs to be explained. It didn't hurt as much as it could have, because it was said by a stranger. And the opinions of strangers who know nothing of my struggle really don't matter much to me. But knowing someone thought that about my skin enough to say it still lingers in the back of my mind when I look at my reflection sometimes.

• “You’re not worth settling down for.”
  
  
• “The more you allowed me to mistreat you, the less I loved you"
• 
  
•  “I want someone with beautiful skin.”

Again, I’ve grouped these due to their similarities. They all say “you’re not enough”. The second one gets me especially, because between the lines it says to me "I don't like that you didn't get back in my face when I was a jerk, so I'm not going to care about you as much". It basically throws my patience and efforts to continue kindness back in my face. And THAT hurts. It's like someone slap you in the face, you forgiving them, and them slapping you in the face because you forgave them....if that makes any sense. Chances are, if I really felt like it was anything I couldn't handle, I'd walk away. Chances are if I forgive you, I can tell you're sorry and I understand the situation. That doesn't make me less lovable. It doesn't make me a bad person. And it doesn't necessarily make me a doormat.





The last one is slightly different from the others, though. "I want someone with BEAUTIFUL skin". This is like baking a special chocolate cupcake for someone, giving it to them, and having their response simply be: “but I wanted a vanilla cupcake”. You all know I try very hard with my skin. And the person who said this knows that also. Most of the people reading likely try hard with their skin. So imagine hearing from someone who knows somewhat what you're going through, but still says that your efforts aren’t enough and that your efforts are unsightly. Ouch.  Though I will say it seemed like a slip of the tongue and maybe just came out wrong. Regardless, I have beautiful skin. It's simply what I do to it that's not so beautiful.


"I fooled around with her.”

 I won’t say who this is. Because really, multiple people could have said this and should have admitted this. But only one person bothered to at least tell the truth after the fact. Good for him. Some trust and respect were salvaged by me not having to find out way later from a mutual friend. Again, privacy. I only mean to share about me, not to seek revenge and try to publicly shame anyone via blog. There’s a lengthy tale behind this, but it’s too much to elaborate upon. Simply imagine the one you love telling you this. It’s not hard to understand why it would stay in your heart and mind. Like anything else spoken or done wrong against you, all you can do is hope the other party tries to make it right and learn from it. I understand that sometimes cheating occurs when something is wrong with the relationship that one or both parties won't acknowledge or admit. I understand there are reasons these things happen other than "he's a flat-out asshole". Excuse? No. Karma will kick your ass, usually by taking away the one you love and making you realize that you really screwed up and lost a good person. Lesson I've learned? That you can't always trust those you think you can the most. That everyone is human and needs to learn how to deal with bad influences and situations. That lack of honesty from the start causes a lot of trouble. I think unresolved internal struggles contribute to most any kind of acting out. But rather than ditching the one you cheated on and running from the problem, it is my opinion that the issues need to be talked out, admitted, and worked through. Because even if that person isn't the one, it's still important to reach peace with them. And if they are the one, that will just be one of many times you will have to work through a problem with them.

So all in all, why do I carry some of these things still? I think because they are life lessons, and I just associate each particular lesson with a phrase or set of words because words are my thing. They were all words I internalized at some point and pain simply reinforced what I was learning. And knowing how much the words of the past hurt at the time, but seeing that in most cases they don’t anymore, is a good reminder that even the pain of recent words will pass if I give them time.

But the main truth I have learned is that everyone in your life is going to say  or do something that will hurt you at some point. You simply have to discard the ones who are never sorry or who your heart decides are not worth the pain.

I will heal.

Don't Hate Yourself for Suffering; Love Yourself for Trying

I know the smell of alcohol on an angry man’s breath. And from time to time, I catch the same scent in random places- on the bus as a college boy gets on, at the grocery store as a woman with a haggard and careworn face pushes her cart along…downwind from a genderless, ageless figure as I walk.


Alcoholics are everywhere. And so are those who find no peace with their skin. So are all sufferers. Everywhere. Invisible for the most part.



I know the fear that grips your entire being when a stranger wearing the body of a loved one grabs you, pins you, shoves you, pushes your boundaries. And later doesn’t remember. And cries. Just as I push my own boundaries when a stranger wears my body.


We are sufferers. In many forms. Everywhere.


And still I’m standing, no worse for the wear, really. And still I love him. Because I am a fool. Because I’m brave, and hopeful, and I bounce back. Because no bottle holds a potion powerful enough to take away my courage and no bottle will ever blind me to the good heart that beats within the sufferer’s body. Because I’m a sufferer too. Of a different sort, but a sufferer just the same.



I love openly and shamelessly a man I’m told I deserve more than, and am told deserves less than me. Because I see parts of myself within him- struggle, effort, fighting, bravery. Because I see things in him that I wish were a part of me- clear skin, strong, set boundaries, ambition. And because he has filled a void I didn't think he would, and taught me things despite the lessons coming hard and coming mostly because of hard drinks.



Watching him suffer and trying to figure out how to help him heal has helped me figure out how I can heal as well.




Don’t hate someone for suffering; Love them for trying.

But more importantly:

Don’t hate yourself for suffering; love yourself for trying.


And we will all heal.

A Derma Morning Routine

Sometimes my morning routine looks a little different from the average person's. Some days are harder than others. This particular morning was hard enough that I decided to make a video to distract me. But mind you, this is an example of a particularly hard day. These days, I win the battle more often than not. But out of support for my Derma brothers and sisters, I present to you: A Derma Morning.

But I will heal.

Me Time

I’m trying to take it slow and be good to myself, because I know I’m not always my own best friend, which is what I need to be. A good friend spends time with you. A good friend doesn’t blow you off. A good friend keeps their word, or at least tries to. A good friend doesn’t tear you apart…whether physically or metaphorically- a good friend is kind but firm, and doesn’t rip your skin open.

So this week, when not busy with work, I’ve tried to set personal goals for myself. I’ve tried to buy healthier foods and make sure I eat enough and drink enough. I’ve also tried to show myself more positivity and support at work by not being so critical of myself, especially after my boss told me that I was "kicking ass" and "shouldn’t be so hard on myself".  I’ve been treating myself to early bedtimes and time outside in the sun during my lunch break- little things, but healthy things.

I stopped at the thrift shop on the way home from work one day and bought myself the new backpack and bra I’ve been needing for quite some time. I also bought myself a jazzy hat to help with those days when I’m running behind with getting ready for work and don't have time to do something work-appropriate with my hair.

I made a bacon braid (bacon is one of my favorite things in this world).

I watched a good movie (‘Selena’ never gets old). 

I got a rad fortune from a fortune cookie. 

I dressed in bright colors and didn’t care if it looked good (though it ended up looking fantastic). 

I made a necklace to kick-start my collection for this year’s holiday bazaars.

I’m hoping that more positivity and getting more in the habit of being kind and caring toward myself will help give me a boost toward healing

Also, I’ve come to believe that solitude can sometimes be one of the best medicines.

So today I treated myself to some time in the park near my house.

I kicked off my shoes.

I got some sun.

I took some pictures:

  

I wore my favorite earrings, a nice jacket, and enjoyed the fall colors.

And when I got home, I relaxed and just breathed for a while under the warmth of my favorite poncho with a cup of cocoa.

The little things can make the difference. The silver lining can blind you from seeing some of the negativity. Try to focus on the good.


I've been trying to practice being grateful for the good, rather than focusing on fixing the bad; I've come far. I'm getting better every day. What scars and scabs are left do not matter, because I'm working hard and taking steps forward, even if I take a step back from time to time.

And you know what? I haven’t really felt like I needed to scratch much today.

My Role Models VS Me and My Goals

I recently received a rather large compliment from somebody I care about. I was told that I was a strong woman with a good head on my shoulders. They said they were impressed with my ability to “bounce back”. These are things I strive for every day, and it was good to hear that not only did someone else noticed my efforts, but that apparently I was succeeding without realizing it. This compliment came at a time in my day and week when I didn't feel so strong. And it reminded me that I need to go a little easier on myself. I always admire people who can bounce back and are level headed and smart, because I want that for me. It got me to thinking...

I think the people we admire and the reasons we admire them say a lot about the kind of person we want to be, as well as the kind of person we are inside.

I’ve mentioned before looking up to my grandmother for her determination, patience, forgiveness, and love despite many obstacles and pains. I’ve always thought she was amazing, but it wasn’t until I got a little older that I understood just how amazing she really was.

I had several role models growing up, many of whom I still admire. And I think what I admire in each person says something about the kind of girl I want to be. By analyzing what it is that I like about these role models, perhaps I can formulate some goals for myself in an effort to be able to better develop those same qualities in myself and improve my self-love. I think I would love myself a lot more if I was the kind of person I truly wanted to be. Wouldn’t you? Perhaps this in an “exercise” you could try too.

Role models throughout my life:

1. The Dancers of River Dance

When I was little (see photo below), my grandfather and I would watch River Dance together every time I stayed the night with him and my grandmother. These women (and men) were amazingly talented, looked happy, were doing something they loved, and some of them even had fabulous curly princess hair. Fun fact: I always wanted curly hair when I was little, and I ended up getting my wish granted at age 12. Before that, my hair was quite straight:

Plus, who the heck wouldn't want to do this when it looks like so much fun?:

(Ya dig that 90s hair?)


What this says about me/ my goals: I want to be happy doing something I love and am good at, which makes perfect sense given my love for artistic expression. Doing more writing, singing, etc. would be a good way to improve my self-love.

2. Pocahontas (the movie character)

 

I’m quite aware that there is some debate between cultures as to how much of a real “hero” the real Pocahontas was, given that it sounds as though she turned her back on her people for a cute boy, so I’m just talking about the Disney movie character.

In the days before kindergarten, I probably watched this every other day. Pocahontas was adventurous, brave, stood up for what was right, and protected someone she loved from harm. She was a fantastic singer, had rad animal friends (I always wished I could get a bird to sit on my finger and dive off a cliff into a perfectly animated pond and come out unscathed), and between her clothing and hair, she just looked free-spirited. I even had a favorite, gigantic rock outside by the back fence that I would crouch on like Pocahontas did in the scene where John Smith encounters her near a waterfall. I always wanted to live in as beautiful of a place as she did.

This was always my favorite part: 

What this says about me/ my goals: I want to be more adventurous and have more bravery. I want to stand up for what’s right and protect those I love. I want to be a good singer. I want to be more in touch with nature, and be free. I want to live somewhere beautiful without obnoxiously tall buildings and loud cars one day. I want a cozy cabin in the forest with a fireplace. Or a teepee with a campfire.

3. Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz

Dorothy ran away from home because she felt unloved. She soon realized that she was loved all along and had taken her family for granted. She went on a grand adventure, faced her fears, and met wonderful friends as she tried to find her way in the world. But in the end, she knew that the most important thing was the simple love and company of family.

What this says about me/ my goals: Sometimes I feel unloved, but I know that my family is important and they care. I personally feel that I have left home and am learning just how important they are to me. I’m trying to face some fears right now and learn to stand on my own two feet, and I’m meeting some wonderful people on this journey of mine, but in the end, I know that I can always return to grandma’s house when things go wrong. I want to get better at facing my fears, and I’m glad I’m learning to appreciate my family a little more.

4. Natalie Portman (Hershlag)

I admire Natalie for not only having talent, but keeping her personal life, marriage, and child out of the tabloids and not trying to make money off of mindless drama. She also doesn’t pull stunts out of desperation for media attention. She’s lovely, she’s low key, and in her interviews, she seems down to earth despite having both beauty and having graduated from Harvard on top of a serious career and talent. In short, she’s the opposite of the untalented, uneducated, attention-whoring Kardashian family. Yes, I said it. Natalie is a well-rounded, well-educated person, looks and talent aside.

What this says about me/ my goals: I never want to be a greedy-money hungry piece of trash. In fact, I kind of hate money because it gets in the way of so many things and people spend too much time chasing it so they can buy “things”. Things were meant to be used, and people were meant to be loved, but in this backward and fucked up world, people are being used, and money is being loved. I want it all: the brains, the talent, the success, the looks, and to seal the deal, I just want to be a down-to-earth, loving, lovable person. 

5. Hilary Duff/ Lizzie McGuire 

Ah, middle school. It was a tough time, and sometimes it was nice to watch Lizzie McGuire and remember that it was a tough time for everyone. Knowing that even someone as sweet and cute and nice as Lizzie (Hilary Duff) could be considered a nerd and a loser made me feel a little better about the fact that I felt like one. Overall, She was real and dealt with the same types of issues I was dealing with at the time.

Later, after her acting days in Lizzie McGuire were over, Hilary Duff kept most of her private life out of the media, and married a hockey player. They now have a son, and she seems like a healthy, happy woman with a realistic and healthy body and a realistic and healthy grasp on the important things in life. Hilary also did some singing, and some of the messages in her music helped me power through those tough middle school years. Some of her music even helps me now still.

What this says about me/ my goals: I want to be someone who can help people though their problems and help pick them up when they are down. I want a simple life, maybe a kid or two. In fact, I want one son and one daughter so I can treat them both equally and watch them grow into amazing people, without too much social influence if I can help it. I want them to be who they truly are without pressure to behave a certain way just because they have a penis or vagina. I want to be healthy and happy, and I want healthy, happy children and a healthy happy husband to share my world and family with. I want simplicity and realism. I don’t need clubs, parties, fame, or money to satisfy me. In fact, I don’t want them at all, really. I’m not against a good night out, don’t get me wrong. But relying on those things to feel good is not healthy.

6. Selena Quintanilla

This woman had the voice, the talent, the kindness and the loving personality, and she worked hard to get that success. She was sassy, dressed in crazy costumes she designed herself, and had a wonderful time just being herself and loving others. She got married at age 20 despite her father not accepting the man she loved because he was rough around the edges. She saw the good in him, and she had the courage to do what she had to do in order to have both love and success. (By the way, yes, that's me on the right after realizing my new hat and bra looked familiar).

What this says about me/ my goals: I want love and success. I don’t want to care what others think of who I love, and I want to be remembered for my loving spirit and the creativity and beauty of my self-expression.

7. Fran The Nanny

A middle-class, thrifty, working woman from a poor area, who has the audacity to dress in these wild outfits with wild hair, who is a down to earth, quirky girl with a love for cheetah print, and who has a hopeless love for an older man (from a classy and wealthy family) who isn’t ready for commitment and is constantly wishy-washy about whether or not he loves her.


Gee, some of that sounds familiar:

Fran is comfortable with herself, crazy, quirky, and lovable. She’s down to earth and loves her family. And though she could be a little more intelligent, she’s funny and kind.

The actress Fran Drescher herself actually got raped at gunpoint in front of her husband, and later faced a divorce when her husband realized he was gay. So you might say I admire both Frans; the character for the reasons above, and the actress for her resilience in the face of tragedy.

What this says about me/ my goals: I want to be comfortable with myself, even if I stick out like a sore thumb. I want to simply be me and be loveable. I want to make people laugh and smile, and know that I don’t have to be the prettiest, the wealthiest, the smartest, or the brightest in order to be loveable.