Hey friends. I know, I know, who’s that girl? It’s been almost a full year since I last blogged, and there are so many changes that have been made in my Life since.

For starters, I am now single. What a gross word, single. Single, only one. Alone. Blech. I prefer- on my own, or newly liberated. Okay, maybe that was a step too far, but I don’t feel alone. Honestly, I feel free. I feel relieved, I feel renewed, and I feel like I have a wonderful chance to ‘start over’ and create the exact Life I’d like to lead.

The choice to leave my wonderful Jacob was not an easy one, because he honestly did nothing wrong. He was always kind to me, cared for me, and wanted the best for me. He never hurt me, cheated on me, or did me wrong. So why leave? I wish I could answer simply. In short, my giving, nurturing nature got the best of me, and I had forgotten to live for myself. Everything I did was to make sure Jake was happy, healthy, taken care of , fed, clothed, etc. Things a mother does for her child, not a girlfriend for a boyfriend. My definition of love was to martyr myself for his happiness, something I put completely on myself. This makes it even harder to be away from him now, because I still care for him deeply, but I know a relationship isn’t in my best interest right now.

I have goals that I want to achieve, things that I want to be proud of accomplishing completely on my own. It’s important for me to take time in my early 20’s (can you believe I’ll be 22 in a matter of months?) to assert myself as being independent. It’s important to me to feel free to make whatever decisions about my life I see fit. Yes, I am being selfish. But if not now, when? I haven’t been single since I was 17, and I just didn’t want to live my life and never know what it felt like to be on my own. I felt there was a very important chunk of Life experience waiting for me, calling to be explored on my own. Along the way, there are things I’d like to gain. Continue reading


The Death of Summer

Who knew this would happen so soon?

I knew I would miss it eventually, but the idea seemed so distant.

Am I the only one that feels it’s absence?

Am I the only one of my-aged peers that doesn’t have one?

My friends, I am talking about summer.

Gone are the days of having up to 3 months without a care in the world. There are bills to pay, work to be done, and seemingly no time to spare. Continue reading

This is so important…

Hey friends. Yes, I’m early on my post for this week. Today’s topic just could not wait.

As you know, I’m in the midst of becoming a postpartum doula in the hopes of owning my own postpartum service. This didn’t come about easily. I am lucky, and unique in that it didn’t take me very long to figure out that my calling was not in fact education, but caregiving. I knew that I loved caring for others, and realized that I could do so better in the comfort of people’s homes, rather than a classroom. I finally figured out what my gift to the Universe is, and I couldn’t be more excited to begin living my life of purpose and passion.

But not everyone can say that. Not everyone is so lucky. So I HAD to share this with you all today. Continue reading

20 Hopes for my 20s

Friends, I turn 20 years old in a matter of days! I’m more than sure I’m freaking out about it much more than the average 19 year-old does, but it’s important to me! To be fair, I really freaked out when I turned 10. And who wouldn’t? Once you turn 10, your age is defined by not one, but two numbers, for the rest of your life, unless of course you turn 100. If I ever get there, I’m sure I’ll freak out just as much.

I am turning 20. I will no longer be a teenager, I will be in my 20s. That’s terrifying!! I would much rather let everyone just think I’m still a teenager and maybe get some slack? This whole life thing is hard. Living on your own, figuring out your life, trying to hold down a place, pay bills, and not eat Ramen every night is a feat, and something I’m actually pretty proud of accomplishing at 18. Is it weird that I feel like there are much more expectations from a 20 year-old? Am I allowed to still hate tomatoes and kale now that I’m in my 20s? Will people judge me when I want to eat candy when I’m sad, and put off laundry for 3 days too long?

I’m sure this is all pressure is just put on myself, but apparently I’m the type of person who overthinks all these things. I’m sure none of those things matter. It’s just another year on the journey,right? And I’m sure there’s plenty of people in their mid to late-20s who I’m sure are asking similar questions. *sigh* Sometimes I need to remind myself to sit down and seriously just chill out. It’ll be okay. That being said, I have lots of hope for this next decade of my life, known as ‘my twenties.’ In fact, I just so happen to have 20 of them :) Continue reading

My Problem with the College Application Process

Dear essay reader,

You don’t know me.

At least, the real me.

Sure you’ve got the standard information; my name and address, where I go to school, my activities, and most importantly, my grades. But class rank and GPA is just a number. Of course the number is a representation though, a reflection of my dedication and commitment to schoolwork and achievement.

But… you don’t know me.

You don’t know my favorite color, who my friends are, or how I get along with my siblings. Sure, you know my parents names, their addresses, and how much money they make if you’re really interested, but you don’t know the impact they’ve had on me. You don’t know about the little sayings my mom tells me in Spanish to help get through tough times. You don’t know how my mom wakes me up on Saturday mornings, with a back rub and a cup of tea if its cold.

In this essay I write to you, I’m trying to reveal myself, but at the same time not seem vulnerable. I want to seem focused and concentrated, like I know what I’m doing in life, when in reality I’m just as scared and unsure as the next seventeen year-old. I want to seem confident, like I know what I want in life, even though my palms are sweating as I write this. I want you to believe I’ve got it all figured out, but you hold the key to my next step in life. So, I’d like to take this opportunity to tell you a little bit more about myself.

My name is Alyssa Racquel and I am 18 years old. I live in Grapevine, Texas, about ten minutes from DFW airport. Well… this got a little mundane quickly, didn’t it? My apologies. I love the color purple and everything about it. I love the versatility of it, how just a slight change of hue changes the whole feeling. A deep, eggplant purple is reminiscent of royalty, while a lighter lilac purple can evoke images of youth and innocence. I play guitar and write original songs. I have a fascination with spoken word poetry. I love the idea of poems with words that demand to be performed, not just sit on a piece of paper. I have written many spoken word poems, and found that they can help me sort out my feelings and thoughts towards a topic.

I love to create, anything and everything. From the aforementioned spoken word poems to a crafty gift for a friend, I love it all. There’s just something especially satisfying after hours of hard work to be able to look at a finished product and think, Hey, I made that. There is a certain sense of pride and joy in knowing that you have created something that has never been done before, that you have created something completely original. I love knowing that I write poems like no one else can. No one else has the same past experiences to draw on, no one has the same hopes, the same dreams, the same fears. My creations are truly an extension of my individuality, and a tribute to what makes me uniquely me.

I don’t want to be average. I want to be interesting, exciting. I strive to be different than all the rest. Of course I don’t want to be remembered in negative ways, though. I want to be known, to be recognized for my achievements. Lest you begin to think I feel entitled in any way, know that these are just my highest hopes, and also my deepest fears. I say I dislike being average, simply because I fear that I am. I say I want to be remembered, only because my biggest fear is being forgotten. I want you to remember this essay, go out and talk about how it was an essay like none you had ever read before, because only I can write an essay like this one.

You don’t know me.

But I hope, after reading this, that you’d like to.