• Home
  • About Me
    • My Bio
    • Sponsor Info
    • Giveaways
    • My Other Freelance Writing
    • Video Hello
    • blogging advice
  • Love + Relationships
    • Dating
    • Engagements
    • Letters to my future husband
    • Love Lounge
    • marriage
    • Memo To Men
    • Open Letters
    • Singlehood
    • virginity
    • Weddings
  • Fashion + Style
    • beauty
    • do or don’t
    • fashion
    • hair
    • jewelry
    • men’s fashion
    • women’s fashion
  • Art + Design
    • art
    • design
    • dream home
    • flowers
    • illustration
    • Photographs
    • posters
    • tattoos
    • typography
  • Disability Dialogue
    • body image
    • Dating
    • Dating With Disabilities
    • depression
    • disabilities in the media
    • Disability
  • Life + Leisure
    • babies
    • birthday
    • books
    • dream vacation
    • Entertainment and Media
    • etsy love
    • family
    • food
    • gift guide
    • holidays
    • In The Pursuit of Happiness
    • link love
    • magazines
    • Man Candy
    • movies
    • music
    • peek inside
    • Shopping
    • TV
    • would you rather

Monday, October 22, 2018

My Essay on Good Housekeeping: “Princess Eugenie’s Dress Meant a Lot to Me…”

Princess EugenieI love a good Royal Wedding — the hoopla, the fanfare, the dresses, the fascinators! Last week, I got to write about how empowering it was to see Princess Eugenie wear a wedding dress that showed her surgery scar. Like her, I have the same back scar from scoliosis surgery. It’s taken me awhile to be comfortable saying this, but SCARS ARE BEAUTIFUL.

I’ve written about my scars before — and even showed you my MRI scans because, umm, I’m just that honest and vulnerable. But, seriously, it did take awhile for me to grow comfortable in my own skin and in my own scars. This wasn’t an overnight transformation, where I magically woke up one morning and thought, “OK, I’m loving my scars. That journey is done and over.” The journey to self-acceptance has hit peaks and valleys and there are still days where I look in the mirror and don’t fully like what I see. I keep working at it, though, because I’d much rather spend time loving myself than hating myself, you know?

Here’s an excerpt of the piece, in which I also examine the role of scars and deformities in Disney movies and fairy tales and the dangerous messages they’re sending young girls about what is considered beautiful vs. what is considered ugly…

“We’re not actually supposed to like our scars, are we? And we’re most definitely not supposed to show them, either. In our near-constant quest for perfection, society teaches us from a young age to reject any kind of “imperfection.”

Even fairy tales and Disney movies send the message that “scars are bad.” Often times, it’s the villains who have some sort of scar or deformity…By contrast, the princesses in these stories are all conventionally beautiful, with long, luscious hair and smooth skin. Young girls see these perfect princesses and want to be them.

But thanks to Princess Eugenie, they now have a new princess to look up to. A princess who is even better than perfect because she is real and she truly embraces who she is. Her scar is part of her story and she’s proud of that story. Our scars are a part of us. They’re part of our life and they’ve helped make us into who we are.”

Princess EugenieSo glad I was able to write about this empowering and beautiful moment for Good Housekeeping! You can read the full piece here and I’d love to hear your thoughts. Feel free to email me anytime at mellow1422@aol.com and let’s chat! And of course, feel free to share my essay on Facebook, Twitter or even your local refrigerator. If you share on Twitter, be sure to tag me @melissablake so we can connect! I can’t wait to hear from you! Love you all… xoxo

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Pinterest
  • Email

3 Comments Filed Under: Disability, Good Housekeeping writing, inspiring women

Monday, May 22, 2017

So, I’ve Got an Essay in Good Housekeeping (Print!) Magazine…

Essay in Good Housekeeping Print Magazine Essay in Good Housekeeping Print MagazineAlright, so I know the title of this post sort of gives away the surprise, but I had to grab your attention, after all. And now that I do have your undivided attention, you might as well stay for the party! What’s that, you ask? A Party? Oh. YES. You know there is most definitely going to be a party because…I’VE GOT AN ESSAY IN GOOD HOUSEKEEPING PRINT MAGAZINE!!!

Yes, you DID read that correctly! My newest writing clip is in a national glossy women’s magazine! The holy grail of my dreams as a freelance writer!

(Side note: Since I’ve always been a keeper of dates, it’s interesting to note that it’s been exactly 10 years since my last byline in a glossy! Isn’t it funny how things work out sometimes?)

Anyway, I’m *still* on a publication high and have been SO EXCITED to share this story with you for a few months now! The essay is called “My Dad Made Me Feel Beautiful” and appears in the June issue, which is on newsstands NOW. In a nutshell, it’s about the intersection of beauty and my physical disability and how I’ve reconciled the two over the years with the help of my father. It was with my father, not my mother, that I remember taking me on my first trips down the beauty aisle — something he was perfectly comfortable doing — and from whom I learned my first lessons about true beauty and where it comes from.

Essay in Good Housekeeping Print MagazineThe Backstory: I’d actually had the idea for this essay floating around in my head for a good year or so before I even pitched it. I knew I wanted to aim for print with this one and Good Housekeeping has long been one of my favorite magazines! Seriously, even as a teenager, I loved the magazine — shout-out to Heloise, one of the magazine’s long-time, classic columnists!

Anyway, I submitted a pitch to an editor in February and she replied that she was interested in the idea and asked me to write the essay. After I sent the first draft, she said there would be some edits to get it in shape for the mag and asked if I was up for it — YESSS, I thought. I revised the piece and she ultimately accepted it in early April.

It was certainly a whirlwind couple of months, but the experience was amazing and totally worth it! I can’t say enough nice things about the editors — they gave amazing feedback and were really supportive of my vision for the piece. Whenever I write about my father, I sometimes get a little nervous because I wonder what he’d think. I just hope he’d be proud of me and I wish he were here to read it.

Make sure you check out the magazine this month if you get a chance! Thank you to everyone who’s emailed me with your thoughts about the piece! I hope you know just how much it means to me! I love hearing from you, so feel free to email me (mellow1422@aol.com), Tweet me or send a message on Facebook and we can chat!! xoxo

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Pinterest
  • Email

12 Comments Filed Under: Disability, family, Good Housekeeping writing

Wednesday, June 22, 2016

My Essay on Good Housekeeping: “Why I Didn’t Love My Red Hair Until After My Father Died”

Mark today’s date, friends, because it’s a VERY special day! I can now officially check off another item on my Writing Dreams Bucket List with my newest essay “Why I Didn’t Love My Red Hair Until After My Father Died” for Good Housekeeping. Never in my wildest dreams did I EVER think I’d have a personal essay in the beauty section, but I do and this is one I’m very proud of — I know, I say that all the time, but the ones about my father just hold extra special meaning for me.

It’s no secret that I’ve long had a love/hate relationship with my hair. I hated the redness of it, which always made me feel a little like Bozo without the face paint. Then after my father died, I noticed a not-so-subtle shift. I suddenly, well, loved it a lot more than before. I’d look in the mirror and see my father. It made me feel so close to him, like a tangible connection I’d always have with him.

Anyway, here’s an excerpt of the essay, and I love the photos they chose…

As I grieved his death, I finally saw my life through a new lens. More specifically, I looked in the mirror and my red hair looked different. This was the first time that I actually saw it for everything that it had been and everything that it could be.

Growing up, I always saw my hair as just one more thing that made me stand out, just like my physical disability and the fact that I barely crack the 3″10′ mark. It made me unique, and to me, unique was the kiss of death. I could easily be picked out of a crowd, and that was the last thing I wanted. I wanted to blend in. To go unnoticed, to be just like everyone else. But little did I know that wanting to be someone else meant I’d risk losing the most important part of myself — the essence of what makes me, well, me.

I missed my father so much. With him gone, I wanted to fiercely hold tight to anything that would keep him with me. I could now see and appreciate the unique connection my red hair gave me. I began to see my red hair not as a Scarlet Letter, but as one of the lasting connections I’ll ever have with my father.

You can read the full essay here and I’d love to hear your thoughts. Feel free to email me anytime at mellow1422@aol.com and let’s chat! And of course, feel free to share my essay on Facebook, Twitter or even your local refrigerator. If you share on Twitter, be sure to tag me @melissablake so we can connect! I can’t wait to hear from you! Love you all… xoxo

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Pinterest
  • Email

1 Comment Filed Under: family, Good Housekeeping writing, my father's suicide

Thursday, March 24, 2016

My Essay on Good Housekeeping: “The One Thing That Helped Me Heal from My Dad’s Suicide”

A few weeks ago, I wrote an essay about my journey in therapy following my father’s suicide, and today it was published on Good Housekeeping!

I’ve never been shy about sharing my experiences or ashamed of the fact that I’m still in therapy 13 years after his death. In fact, I’m actually proud of how far I’ve come over the years. For me, therapy has always been a healthy — and necessary — part of the healing process. Honestly, I can’t say enough good things about it, obviously.

Here’s a little snippet…

The more I shared, the more I could feel my heart soften. I felt like I was setting those words free, at long last. Looking back now, I realize that it was the first step in setting myself free, too.

Then a few years ago, because of the cumulative number of sessions I’d had, my insurance company reviewed my case to see if they would still cover counseling. I’d done it all over the years — quiet introspection, theory building, childhood analysis — and yet, I knew in my heart that I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. I could never seem to work up the courage to quit. Before, I was afraid of that therapist’s couch — afraid of exploring the dark recesses of my mind. Now, I was just afraid to leave, afraid to stand on my own out of fear that my heart wouldn’t be able to heal itself anymore.

Therapy is sort of like an addictive habit, ironically. That’s how it was for me, at least, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, it’s one of the most important journeys you’ll ever take with yourself. As you delve deeper into your issues, you discover other things about yourself — things that may be bothering you or things you need to work on — that you weren’t even aware of. You enter the therapist’s office as one person and come out a different person. It’s a journey spent getting to know yourself.

I desperately needed to talk about my feelings and give a voice to everything I’d been holding inside. It was the only way to set myself free – but maybe even more than that, it was the only way to set my father free as well. Deep down, I knew I needed to forgive him and make peace with what he did. Counseling went a long way to helping me find that peace.

You can read the full essay here and, as always, I’d love to hear your thoughts!

***Not to make this post into one giant after-school special PSA, but I STRONGLY encourage you to seek out therapy if you’re grappling with life’s big or small struggles. No shame, remember? It’s all about taking good care of yourself, friends!!! I love you!!! xoxo

P.S. And of course, feel free to share my essay on Facebook, Twitter or even your local refrigerator. If you share on Twitter, be sure to tag me @melissablake so we can connect!

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Pinterest
  • Email

3 Comments Filed Under: family, Good Housekeeping writing, my father's suicide

Thursday, December 3, 2015

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

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Pinterest
  • Email

3 Comments Filed Under: confidence, Disability, Good Housekeeping writing

So About What I Said is a daily blog that covers relationships, disabilities, lifestyle and pop culture. I love to laugh and have been known to overshare. I also have an unabashed obsession with pop music, polo shirts, and PEZ dispensers. Read more...

Let's Be Friends
Pinterest
Facebook
Twitter
Instagram
Bloglovin
RSS

Contact Me
Subscribe by Email

About Us

dotted lineAbout Us
archive

Archives

So About What I Said © 2026 · Design by Maiedae · Development by High Note Designs

loading Cancel
Post was not sent - check your email addresses!
Email check failed, please try again
Sorry, your blog cannot share posts by email.