Tuesday Tunes: Billy Joel’s “My Life”

Editor’s Note: Song lyrics denoted in bold italics.

I’ve always had a special place in my heart for Billy Joel. He sings songs about real life; everyone makes fun of me, but I can’t listen to Piano Man without the tears practically streaming down my face — just think of poor Davy in the navy!

Anyway, Janelle was putting up our Christmas tree this afternoon and was listening to the ’70s station on Sirius. What should come blasting through the television in all its self-assured glory?

Billy Joel’s “My Life“
From 52nd Street

Now, this has long been one of my favorites from Joel’s discography, but for some reason, it sounded “new” to me today. It was as if I was hearing the song for the first time in years. It just hit me in that emotional sweet spot, you know?


I don’t need you to worry for me cause I’m alright
I don’t want you to tell me it’s time to come home
I don’t care what you say anymore, this is my life
Go ahead with your own life and leave me alone

And then it hit me: This is, coincidentally, something I’ve learned from Janelle. Lately, she’s been trying to live by this philosophy more. Not in a “this is my life and I can do whatever I want” sort of way like a defiant teenager, but more like a “make no apologies” kind of way. So often, we start feeling like we desperately need to justify what we say, what we do, EVERYTHING! But then we suddenly realize that, well, we actually don’t. It’s a pretty liberating feeling, actually.

I never said you had to offer me a second chance
I never said I was a victim of circumstance
I still belong, don’t get me wrong
And you can speak your mind
But not on my time

Remember when we talked about how you don’t owe anyone an apology for certain things in life? Maybe this is sort of the same thing. I’m willing to bet that it takes us all awhile to build up that thick skin, that protective outer shell that makes us at least partially immune from the opinions and harsh words of others. I mean, we’re sure as heck not born with it — though if they did clone a sheep once, I suppose you never really know exactly what the future holds.

Yet, once we develop this skin, it seems to last a lifetime, doesn’t it? It’s almost as if it’s guaranteed to give us some sort of superpower in shutting out the hollow words from the people around us — those words that just don’t matter — and helping us finally and truly see that, NO, we don’t always have to be apologizing and saying “I’m sorry” for every little thing. It’s our life, remember? We need to be happy living it for ourselves and forgetting all that excess background noise.

Wouldn’t you agree, friends? xoxo

Exciting News: My Essay on Good Housekeeping!

I’m so happy to share some exciting news today, friends! A new essay of mine was just published on Good Housekeeping today! I wrote about my surgical scars and how learning to accept them went a long way toward helping me come to terms with my disability. One of my favorite passages from the piece…

We all have scars, even if you can’t visibly see them. Why are we so afraid of them? Is it because they can expose the most vulnerable parts of ourselves, the parts we’re afraid to let anyone else see? Do we not want to seem “weak”? But those scars are a part of us, aren’t they? They help make up the puzzle of who we are and who we become. And if we can’t embrace them, how can we ever expect others to?

You can read the full piece here, and I’d love to hear your thoughts! And remember… #LoveYourself, today and always! xoxo

Tuesday Tunes: Michelle Branch’s “Breathe”

Editor’s Note: Song lyrics denoted in bold italics.

I’ve always had a special place in my heart for singer/songwriter Michelle Branch. I practically wore out her albums memorizing all the lyrics — we’d listen to them on family car trips into the suburbs to go shopping and out to lunch on Sunday afternoons. And, I thought I was hot stuff rocking out at her concert one year.

Good times, indeed. She just has a way of layering words and music together to tell the perfect story, stringing words into sentences that cut straight to the heart and soul of all sorts of emotions.

Michelle Branch’s “Breathe“
From Hotel Paper

She didn’t care who was listening. She was going to tell them exactly how she felt. But at the same time, she was also going to make sure to take care of herself.

Well it’s all so overrated
In not saying how you feel
So you end up watching chances fade
And wondering what’s real

You all know that I’ve never been one to hide any of my feelings. At. All. Trying to hide your feelings has never really been my style — except when it came to a certain Crush Boy, and we all know just how that turned out. So I don’t believe in hiding your emotions because, really, it’s almost as if you’re hiding a part of yourself. And I’m pretty sure that nothing good can ever come from that. Ever.

If I just breathe
Let it fill the space between
I’ll know everything is alright
Breathe
Every little piece of me
You’ll see
Everything is alright
If I just breathe

I’m guilty of this, most definitely. I sometimes forget to breathe. I get myself so wrapped up in things sometimes, so worked up over things. My blood pressure rises and my pulse speeds up, which isn’t very healthy, obviously.

So you know what? I’m trying to learn to calm down — even if only for a minute — and step back. You can’t really see what’s right in front of your face if you’ve got it right against the window. If you want to see the whole, big picture, you need to step back and give yourself a little breathing space. I suppose it’s that whole “forest for the trees” analogy.


Does that make sense, friends? When have you felt this way? On those days when you just need to ‘breathe,’ what helps you the most? Care to share your secrets? xoxo

In Defense of ‘Being Boring’

In a world of exotic flavors, I’m what you’d call pretty vanilla. I’d choose a Friday night of Netflix over an evening out on the town. I prefer to keep my lunch menu pretty simple and consistent — usually a PB&J or ham sandwich. And only recently did I get my first new hairstyle since the late ’80s.

Like I said, some may consider me a Boring Betty. Go ahead, you can call me that if you’d like; I mean, after all, it’s nothing I haven’t heard before…

But here’s the thing: I’m perfectly OK with that. Really, really OK. Dare I even say…I’m actually happy with my supposedly ‘boring‘ life.

Allow me to explain.

I’ve long heard the chants from the Anti-Boring Camp. Now, I don’t begrudge them their lifestyle, of course, but wow! They sure are busy people — always running here or doing this or scheduling that. I often picture the old Batman TV show, where those action bubbles pop up on the screen during the nail-biting fight scenes.

POW. BOOM. ZAP.

Something is always going on, which is fine for some people. That’s just how they are, how they operate — maybe it’s built into their personality or DNA somehow?

I’ve never been like that, though. Well, at least not by choice, anyway. My life is decidedly smooth and steady — two adjectives that, I’ll admit, don’t exactly scream a “party-hopping, cruise-ship-boarding, paint-the-town-red” lifestyle. And, honestly, there was a time when I found myself being my own worst critic about it all. Am I doing something wrong? Has my “invitation” get lost in the mail? Have I misplaced my metaphorical dancing shoes?

I didn’t really know the answer to those questions. At least not right at first, anyway. It took awhile for it all to sink in, but I eventually realized that it all had to do with the grand scheme of timing. For the first 20 years of my life, everything was one busy activity after another. My life was consumed by medical stuff, and as I’m sure lots of you know, all that medical stuff can get really exhausting really quickly. I rarely felt like I had any time to catch my breath.

So it’s almost as if Adult Me is ready for some not-so-busy adventures. At long last. It’s SO refreshing to feel like I can finally wipe the calendar clean and sort of start over with a new chapter — one that I have more of a hand in writing and directing.

Besides, if you think about it, what’s really so wrong with ‘boring’? We tend to view the term in a very negative way. We may see people we perceive as boring and also think they’re unfulfilled in life or are feeling dissatisfied in some way. So we may pity them, as in, “Oh, they lead such a boring life. How sad.” Other times, we use their life as a cautionary tale, like, “Yikes! I mustn’t let that happen to me. That cannot be my downfall.” A boring life doesn’t mean a life completely devoid of fun and excitement, you know?

I encourage you to embrace your boring side. It’s not something to be ashamed of or something you desperately need to hide. If it’s your lifestyle of choice, own it proudly! At the very least, I urge you to be at one with it. Don’t be afraid and don’t try to run away from it. It’s not some monster under your bed and it’s must definitely NOT going to hurt you. I promise.

Are you comfortable being boring, friends? Or do you prefer to keep busy with lots of activities? Let’s chat, shall we? xoxo

[Photos via We Heart It]

Dealing With Negativity (Or, My Life According To Haters!)

We’re a whole bunch of fakes.

It’s one of the great complaints about bloggers. That we lead curated lives and create these fantastical ideals that no one could ever live up to. In a word, our lives are styled and staged to the max, and it’s reached the point where we’re doing things and trying things and going places for the sole purpose of generating blog content.

Translation: Nothing even remotely reflects reality anymore.

Well, thankfully, I can count my lucky stars that I don’t belong in that group. I recently came across a conversation about Yours Truly on a popular gossip/snark site for bloggers. Yeah, I’m sure you know the one. It’s was the sort of discovery that brings with it a certain level of elation. As in, “OK, I guess I’ve finally made it! This must be my version of an US Weekly cover!“

Anyway, their hard-researched verdict?

My life is all too boring.

Hmm. They did have a point, I think. After all, that fear does creep in every so often, like on the days when I sit at my window and watch the snow fall, and I have to wonder: What has my life become? Thank goodness for these wise, eye-opening souls who are here to enlighten me as to the error of my ways. Without them, I just might have perished into the blog oblivion. Among their other criticisms…

1. I have an overly idealized/romanticized vision of love: Wait, you mean Prince Charming is really just a fictional character? And there’s no white horse either? Gosh darn it, and to think I had my future all planned out. I was so looking forward to meeting Mr. Charming and jumping right into a story book. Wait, you mean that’s not possible either?

2. I don’t go out of the house except to go to Target or CVS: Haha, gotcha here! My drugstore of choice is actually Walgreens, not CVS. But I do see your point. I suppose I am boring. Maybe I should start staging design projects, kitchen cooking sessions and fashion shows — you know, make myself “appear” more interesting and livelier than I actually am. I mean, it doesn’t really matter if it’s true, right? It’s all about how it looks.

3. I’m stuck in my ways and I hate change: Very true! I’m mad at the world for making a full rotation every 24 hours and I’m so frustrated that the seasons change. Maybe I’ll just curl up in my house and never come out! Now there’s a thought!

4. I refuse to try online dating, which may lead to my Forever Spinster status: You’re right. I guess there are just no other options for me; all hope is officially lost. At least I have my cats and a warm blanket to keep me company during my lonely, lonely years, since everyone knows that romantic love is the only kind of love there is. There’s no other kind of love out there. If you don’t have romantic love, you’re a hopeless loser, so thanks for letting me know.

5. I would never date someone in a wheelchair/with a disability: Oh, I know, right? I can barely tolerate me. Can you imagine having to put up with another me? That would just be downright exhausting and I just don’t think I could get past that glaring wheelchair.

By now, I hope you’ve caught on to my wit and sarcasm in this post — no doubt cultivated by my many hours by myself, indoors, with my cats as my audience.

And one more thing: One of you said that you’d feel guilty starting an entire thread about me because of my disability. Well, don’t worry — there’s no need to be a superhero martyr. I’m not a China doll. In fact, I’m pretty tough. I can take it. Just don’t expect me to take it sitting down — pun intended — because I will fight back. So might I suggest that the next time you’d like to give me “life advice,” you step away from the comforts of your computer and your cutesy screen name (heyyy, Mediocre Snark Attack and Polarburr!!) and say your piece to my face. Because while you may think you slayed with your words, at least I have enough guts and self-esteem to use my name.

Who’s the superhero now?