The Food and I

Howdy, pals! I am not quite sure why I went with howdy, but here we are. It’s been an interesting week to say the least. Most importantly, the weather has changed and you KNOW I cleaned out my closet and brought out all my snuggly sweaters. I am basic and proud. Even bought a pair of ugg boots from Goodwill. Really embracing who I am deep down.

Something else has been brewing deep, down inside of me. It’s gas. I’m gassy and sick and it’s more commonly known as gastritis. Basically, there is too much acid in my stomach and it’s caused some inflammation of the stomach lining. I’ll be honest… it’s not very fun. I’m sure you probably assumed that, but it’s not fun for more than just the stomach pains.

This is not the first time I’ve dealt with acid in my stomach. I was diagnosed with GERD last summer and they were also worried I had cysts. (Luckily, no cysts, just acid.) Whenever there is a stomach issue I get the same advice from medical professionals- lose weight. I know they are saying it because it honestly does help things like that. Usually I would say let’s explore other things that could help the issue, but after being diagnosed with GERD I lost some weight and I didn’t have any heartburn again, until I started gaining the weight back. Yet, when I hear someone say I should lose weight I roll my eyes so hard that they could probably knock over a building.

It’s because of the fat phobia that permeates our everyday lives. I can’t look on the internet without someone selling a get thin fast diet. It’s near impossible to shop in a store, I must shop online to avoid people seeing a fatty actually shopping in a store. You know, they don’t want to ruin their brand or anything. If they do happen to carry plus size clothes take note that it’s conveniently tucked into the back of the store to still hide fat people. I roll my eyes because it cuts through me like a knife cuts through butter- it’s a swift, clean cut that happens again and again.

I have carried the weight (pun intended) of binge eating disorder for most of my life. Food and I haven’t had the best relationship, but in the last few months I have felt myself getting more comfortable. The idea of eating before I feel like I am going to burst at the seems has been easier. I no longer feel the need to hide snacks throughout my living space, or sneak food behind my roommates backs. I’m open about my love of food. We are in a good place, food and I.

Yet, when I heard the doctor say “losing weight will help this go away”. All that work and progress disappeared for a moment and I wanted to stop eating forever. I wanted to breakup with food while simultaneously wanting to go binge eat McDonalds behind closed doors. All the pain and anguish from the last 20 years came flooding back in me and I wanted to cry. It felt as though time had stopped for a moment when he said it and a loop of all the self-hate I had ever experienced jumped to the front of my mind. In that brief moment I felt more than just the pain that was in my stomach.

Time stopped it’s because those feelings all happened in slow motion but when time resumed it went away fast. I sat for a minute in my office before returning to work and I thought about how far I have come and all the ways I can help my stomach without using a scale to figure it out. I googled good foods to eat for gastritis and did some deep breathing exercises. Of course, a visit from baby Sarah was also warranted.

Closing my eyes, she came to me crying, putting her hand on her stomach she called herself ugly. We held hands and we put our hands on our stomachs and together we talked about being gentle with ourselves, with our words, and with our bodies, and particularly with our stomachs. Wiping her tears, I told her the real meaning of beauty; that no matter our appearance on the outside, true beauty comes from within. Fat doesn’t make you less than, it doesn’t make you unworthy, and it definitely doesn’t make you ugly.

All of this happened last week Friday and since that day, I’ve had to visit with baby Sarah a few times. I’ve found myself more hesitant with food, brief moments of wanting to restrict and binge. I am being gentle with myself because I know that day I was triggered and it brought up a lot of feelings I haven’t seen in awhile. This doesn’t mean I haven’t healed or done the work, in fact without that work I wouldn’t have been able to work through all of those feelings so quickly. And quite frankly, that is what life is made up of- unpredictable moments that catch you off guard; sometimes those moments are happy ones and sometimes they are heartbreaking ones. Both make us stronger.

If you are having a hard time because you just so happened to have a heartbreaking moment catch you off guard, please try to be gentle with yourself. If you are grieving, if you are triggered, if you are just hurting the most important thing you can do is let yourself feel it and work with it, not around it. You are stronger today than you were yesterday. And as always, if you are not in a place to work with it, that’s okay. What you need is what you need and there is no shame in any of that.

A[wo]men

–

in the dips

of your rolling fields

find home

–

Earlier this week on the island I call my second home, Prince of Wales, Alaska, a tragedy occurred. Copied text from the GoFundMe page: “Herbie Nix Jr. was born to Marvell and Herb Sr. (Big Herb) on September 23, 2002. Lil Herb passed on October 5, 2020.  We are asking for support for the Nix/Edenshaw family during this very difficult time. Thank you in advance for your emotional and financial support. We will update you on the service times. Any cash donations may be given directly to the Nix family. Monetary donations can be made through GoFundMe, Facebook Pay, Cashapp and PayPal.” Please donate by clicking this link if you have the means and send love and healing to the island ❤

What goes down, must come up.

I wrote an original post that talked about all the pain that I and others are suffering through right now. About how my moods have been up and down and there is so much going on that it is hard to process any of it. Halfway through though I deleted it. I deleted it because we all know what is happening right now. We all feel the pain and the fear attached. We all know the downs right now. But, if my moods are up and down why am I only writing about what it feels like when they are down? I think we have enough of the down right now, so imma go ahead and talk about those ups. Those moments in my day when I feel peace.

When the sun is shining in my little neighborhood, I go to my stoop and I sit there. I let the sun drench my skin and I can feel myself come alive. My days off of work provide me solace in the sun. No schedule. No place to be. Just in that moment having vitamin D absorption provide me with the only medicine I need. This is where I have found the most peace. The Sun has been a bit fickle here, as is expected with spring weather. April showers yada, yada, yada. There is something about the sun though that lets you forget for a moment all that is happening. It’s a reminder that the world keeps turning and each day will come and go again, regardless of pandemics, politics, or anything else.

Those cloudy, rainy days though have been the toughest, so I’ve been channeling my energy every day into something more productive. I run my chaotic energy out like it’s a little kid I need to exhaust before their bedtime. I am officially up to three miles, which I intended to reach by the end of April, so way ahead of schedule. I guess I can thank chaotic energy for that. Turning my music up to full volume, feeling my body push itself in ways it never thought it could, this is one of my favorite feelings. Fat bodies are often told they can’t do things; they can’t wear crop tops, they can’t be healthy, they can’t run. It’s funny because at the moment my fat body is doing all of those things, so I am not sure where they are getting their data from. Running is an act of defiance in my fat body. I’ll show you what a fat body can do. I feel the air fill my lungs, my feet gently tapping the pavement, and my sweat painting my body. How fantastic human bodies can be. I can’t help but find peace here.

At work, it’s been a bit more difficult to find peace. I feel lucky, scared, sad and a whole mix of other emotions while I am there. As a social worker and an empath, I am a holder of not only my own emotions, but of others as well. Finding a way to unwind in that role is important. On my lunch break I leave the building even if it’s only for a minute. It is amazing the impact fresh air can have on a busy mind. I make it a point to find a spot that is empty, which is much easier these days. I stand there for a moment, with my headphones in, but no music playing, just to drown out the sounds of the city. In through the nose, out through the mouth, in through the nose, out through the mouth. I repeat these words in my head until it is all that I can hear. My anxiety started to shoot through the roof the day we had to start wearing masks at work. Which is when I realized how valuable fresh air is. Between patients I would stick my head out of the window and just breathe it in. *While I am painting a pretty picture it was actually a pretty hilarious sight, which I sent to a few friends.* This need for fresh air then turned into my need for my lunch time inhalations and exhalations. Hand to hearts center, namaste.

Nah, imma stay in bed is also where I find peace. I don’t actually lay in my bed all day though because I reserve that for sleeping (which I’ve also been doing a lot of). I do, however, spend more time sitting on my couch watching TV. Not just any TV. TV shows that I have seen a hundred times before. I recently read an article about this and they said we gravitate towards these shows in times of crisis because they provided us with a sense of comfort and control. This makes total sense to me. When Dawson’s Creek is on I feel way more in control and, by in control, I mean I am just swooning over Pacey J. Witter the whole time. It’s a great distraction. I love you Dawson’s Creek. Never Change.

Another thing that hasn’t change is finding comfort in food. An age old tradition in my brain to turn to food in moments of crisis. While, yes, stuffing my face to the point where it doesn’t feel good is not the healthiest of coping skills, I have to say I really don’t give a sh*t. Oh, I’m sorry, was that aggressive? But seriously, the copious amount of posts talking about the fear of emerging from this quarantine with a fat body is horrendous. If your worst case scenario is that you get fat, I’d have to say you are a really lucky person. I’d also urge you to unpack your fat phobia. Your fear isn’t of your health, it is purely of your body getting bigger. Digest that for a minute. Food is comforting and that doesn’t need to scare us. It’s okay to eat the things that bring you joy. In fact, anything that is bringing you joy right now is important to hold onto.

Because right now we don’t have a whole lot we can hold onto. Right now things are unpredictable and ever changing. So, I am holding on to these little pieces of life right now that bring me up when I am down. And the beautiful thing is that there are ups. I think it was Isaac Newton who said “what goes up must come down”. Well, it seems you can’t have one without the other and therefore, what goes down, must come up.

Try to find what your ups are. Maybe they are similar to mine or maybe they are vastly different, but either way search for them today. Heck, search for them everyday. You might have to look all over for them, but trust me they are there. And you might just find it helps you through the downs.

A[wo]men

*Featured image from a stoop session*

look up;

close your eyes;

embrace 

-the known;

accept 

-the unknown.

inhale,

4,5.

exhale,

4,5.

repeat.

-how to find your ups.

 

Our Own Best Ally

Hello friends. It feels like it has been years since I last wrote even though it was only a week ago. The reason for this is I had the… FLU… dun dun dun. It was awful. I didn’t leave my house for two days, everything hurt and I thought my life was ending. Obviously, I don’t do very well with being sick. Most of the time I use my sick days for mental health needs or bad headaches. I don’t usually get puking sick. So, when I do I am a total wreck. Today though, I am feeling totally better and it feels good to be sitting in front of my computer in a Starbucks, in public, even if I am sweating profusely because that is the most I’ve moved my body in awhile. It is a nice change of scenery and my body is happy to be in a different setting as well. I love my apartment, but one can only watch so much Netflix. Didn’t know I had my limits until now.

While I am excited to be writing, I also know I don’t want to push it, so this may not be the longest post. I am just going to listen to my body, trust myself- a practice I have been working on for awhile and through this flu was reminded of.

While I was sick a lot of things came up for me and some of those thoughts took me aback and I want to process them with you all because I have a feeling I am not alone in this. As someone who has been through different eating disorders and struggled with my body I sometimes get these automatic toxic thoughts. For instance, when I started to puke my first thought was, ‘well, I bet I’ll see the scale go down at WW’. As soon as I thought it I felt sad. Sad that those thoughts still consume pieces of myself; sad that I was trying to justify my bodies pain; sad that I was even thinking about weight in that moment.

I then took a deep breath. I rubbed my stomach and I apologized. I said how sorry I am for thinking that way. I then dove into where that thought came from. This was also a way for me to not think about my nausea for a brief moment. I sometimes struggle with this idea of honoring all my thoughts when in those moments I want to beat those thoughts with a bat. I know though that they are there for a reason and I need to give them the space. So I asked myself “why did you think that?” I took another deep breath and closed my eyes. Maybe WW is too much for you right now? Maybe I watched too much romantic reality tv shows and feel gross compared to them? Perhaps dating is bringing up a lot of insecurities in myself and I tend to equate thinness to love? Perhaps, I feel guilty about not being at work and I want to think about anything other than not being there? This went on for a while. I just let all these thoughts cross my mind and swirl in and out. I sat there for about 15 minutes with a million thoughts crossing.

Then, I opened my eyes and sat in front of the mirror. My sick face, drooping, white, sickly; my eyes bulging and blood shot, unable to stay closed due to the fact that I needed the toilet every 30 minutes; my hair drenched in sweat, stuck to the sides of my face. I just sat there looking at every inch of myself, reminding myself that my body takes care of itself. I am sick because something needs to get out and my body knows that. I thought about how powerful that is. How innate it is for our bodies to just care for us, no questions asked. So, I used that when I looked in the mirror. I said out loud “I want to take care of my body- innately and unconditionally.” Those other thoughts are just leftovers from a time I didn’t trust my body.

I then got up and puked.

After I finished that up, I laid on the couch and rubbed my stomach. I called my mom and told her how much pain I was in and she told me to just rest and that it will pass and, of course, she added “if it doesn’t pass in the next few hours, go to the ER.” It did pass though. Just like that thought, the pain subsided. I rested and healed just as I knew my body could.

Yesterday, during that healing, while my body felt like it got run over by a bus, I decided to do some Yoga with Adriene for illness. It was nice to gently move my body and stretch out the parts of myself that were crunched up for 24 hours. The thing I loved the most though was how the video ended. She said when she is sick she uses the affirmation ‘my immune system works perfectly’. With our hands at our hearts we both repeated those words. As I spoke those words into the universe, I recalled my moment from the day before. A sense of relief just wafting all over myself.

I think all of this is to be a reminder that A) things are always changing and B) we can/should learn to trust our bodies more. I used to push those thoughts away, not give them the time of day. Now, letting myself explore why I had that thought and all the things that came along with it allowed me to realize that I am not in that same place. It gave me a moment of self-reflection that I wouldn’t have gotten if I just shut it down immediately.  I suggest learning to trust yourself- I promise it feels so much better than being an enemy of yourself. “They” always say you are your own worst enemy, but I would argue that we are our own best ally. 

I would also argue that we could all do better at washing our hands.

A[wo]men

a reflection

in the water,

in the mirror,

in the window,

in the puddle,

in the broken glass.

always-

you

-wherever you go.

rooting for you.

-your number one fan

My Body is a Monument

Hi all, I think I am still riding the high from last weeks post. If you didn’t get a chance to read Kitty’s story I highly encourage that you do so. It was awesome to be able to write about someone else for a change. And I am beyond excited for my September story that will be coming at the end of this month, so keep an eye out!

As for this week, I have something important I would like to write about. This is something that used to dominate my blog, but I have steered away from for quite some time.

I am ready to talk about it again: My Body.

**Trigger warnings of self-harm and eating disorders**

In therapy, I talk a lot about my relationship with my body. I do a lot of inner child work  which you can read more about with this link. For one of my sessions we talked about my first memory of hating my body.  She told me to close my eyes and just think of a memory that comes up. I could picture it so clearly:

My hair was a mess that day because we had just gotten back from recess. I was wearing cat ears made of felt and so the felt kept rubbing against my hair and creating the little ones to stand up with my pony slicked back as tight as it could go. I was wearing a navy blue nike shirt and some jeans. There was so much joy because it was the last day with our 1st grade reading buddies.  My co-reading buddy and I crouched down next to our first grade friend and the adult snapped the shot. A few days later the pictures were developed and hung in the hallway. I remember feeling complete shame every time I had to walk past that photograph. My co-reading buddy was flawless. Her long blonde hair flowing in the photograph, no sign of rolls on her skin. I remember thinking how she was pretty and thin and I was fat and ugly.

I was 10 years old. 

I remember having to go to JCPenny for back to school shopping because it was the only store that had clothes for bigger kids. I  recalled the hatred I felt for being the fat cheerleader, squeezing into the largest skirt they had.  I remember developing breasts much earlier than I wanted and being teased about it constantly. I wanted to hide in a baggy sweatshirt and never let anyone see my body, including myself.

My body has been was a battleground for as long as I can remember. In high school, as my depression peaked, I began cutting my thighs. Why my thighs, you might ask? Well for starters it was much easier to hide. Also, I hated my thighs more than I hated any other part of my body. I thought maybe scars would make me love them more and if that didn’t work at least they would be punished for being the bane of my existence. I hate to admit that it worked. I liked the scars. I like telling people that my cat scratched me when the wounds would make a brief appearance at a sleepover. I liked having this secret ritual that helped me cope with the hatred I was feeling for my body.

And with all that I ate.

I ate to cope. I ate to stay the way I was. I ate to feel. Food was my life raft.

It got dark… like really dark. For a long time I think I was just drifting along in a sea of darkness, not really knowing or wanting to know how to get out. Then, little by little, it started to get light.

I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting lately to understand how I got from point A to point B. How did I go from despising my body more than anything to people telling me I inspire them to love their own body? It certainly wasn’t over night.

So, I did what always helps me process, I sat down and I started writing. I wrote about the teasing, the cheerleading, the comparisons, the dieting, the misunderstandings of my own worth. I thought about my need for love and how I put value to my body by peoples desire to have it. I doodled about the body positive movement, Ashley Graham, and Lizzo. I wrote about writing and the power I found from telling my truth about my body. I journaled about my binge eating disorder diagnosis and what it felt like to hear that for the first time. Then I thought about therapy and all the help it has given me.

Earlier I wrote that my body has been a battleground and crossed it out, because it feels as though the war is finally over. My body is now a monument where a battle used to take place. This is not to say that I am all loving, never have a down day, totally happy all the time. Ew. This is to say that I can now go to these parts of myself without a sword in my hand trying to cut them all down. I can sit with the feeling and let it just be there. Like most monuments, I pay tribute to all the ways the war shaped me and what it taught me. Basically, I got from point A to point B by learning how to be gentle… And Lizzo.

When it comes to all the work I have done, and keep doing, it is all with the hope that the next generation, my own future kids, can feel happy in their skin. I don’t want to pass down an ideal of what size, gender, height, body box they have to fit into. I just want them to be kids.

And so lately, when I start to feel really down about my body, I think of what I would do as a kid if I didn’t have this ideal in my head. Then, I stand in front of my mirror, usually in my bra and underwear and I just dance. I put on a song that I can’t help but move too, I wiggle my thighs with the scar still there, moving with me. I look at my body with a bit of naivety, just allowing it to be. 10/10 would recommend.

A[wo]men

If you are struggling with your body image, please know that you are not alone. Also know, that it doesn’t have to feel this way forever. Little by little it can get lighter for you. And if you or someone you know is struggling with an eating disorder reach out to the  National Eating Disorders Association (NEDA) or me and I can assist you in finding the help you want.

The weapons are drawn.

And as the mirror shatters,

Your own worst enemy has been defeated.

-How to build a monument

*Featured image drawn during my exploration doodles of the body-positive movement. Done with my eyes-closed, as encouraged by a dear friend, to take away judgement*

It’s Island Life, Baby

Before I begin my post today I have to comment on the bravery of our youth. Unfortunately, I did not participate in the marches yesterday. I honestly believe that there are more guns than people on this island. I was also informed that it would likely hinder my job with my clients in a lot of ways, so I keep to myself. And by that, I mean I go on social media and retween/reblog/regram and write. These young adults are warriors standing up to bullies. One time in high school me and a friend went around our school hanging posters and creating a Facebook page trying to get people not to vote for one of our classmates who was running for the school board. I thought I was political and involved. Yeesh. This demonstration has proved me wrong. Kids came out in droves yesterday. And so many spoke… publicly… I AM SO IMPRESSED AND INSPIRED. To these young adults, with all your vigor and fight, it is the first time in a long time I could feel change. The youth will save us all from ourselves and I believe that. I was never vocal when I needed to be. It wasn’t until I started blogging that I found a platform that I felt safe/comfortable using my voice. I wish I learned at an earlier age that adults can be wrong and that it happens more often than we think. Yesterdays demonstration was a reminder to me that we are all more powerful than we give ourselves credit for. A sincere thank you to the kids that have found their voice and reminded me of mine. I support you. #MARCHFOROURLIVES

Speaking of more guns than people on this island, on today’s agenda I have decided that I would like to discuss island life. A strange life. A beautiful life. A ‘how the eff did I get here?’ life. Prince of Wales Island, Alaska is unlike anything I have ever heard of. First of all, it is a huge. In fact, it is the fourth largest island in the United States (my source is Wikipedia for that, but I don’t get paid to write this so take that as you may). I haven’t explored much of the island, but I hear it is beautiful. I am waiting for it to warm up just a tad, so I am not just seeing the beauty through my car windows. It rains like most of the time, even in winter, because FUN FACT it is a rain forest. I thought this would get to me, but it really doesn’t. The nice days are extra nice. When the sun is out it is like I am a whole new person. It’s pretty amazing. If you are into nature and/or extremes this place is for you. There are so many little bits and pieces of living on a island that just do not happen on the mainland.

I have officially been here for a little over 3 months and some days it feels as though it has been 3 years and other days it feels like it has been 3 days. Time feels different here. We literally have our own time zone, something I was unaware of until I moved here. I call my friends back on the east coast and they are hopping into bed just as I am finishing work. Scheduling phone calls with people in different time zones is a nightmare. The other reason time feels different here is because we all live on island time. Island time is this fantastic notion that there is no such thing as being in a rush. Work starts at 8, so as long as you are there before 8:30, you good. I bet y’all could get used to that. Going from NYC where everyone is always in a rush to island time has been a difficult transition for me. I am voted most likely to be the first to an event. I am working on slowing down, but I think subway anxiety just never leaves you.

When people see the island, most assume “cost of living must be so low!” HA! Joke is on them. Everything, and I mean everything, we have on the island has to be shipped to us. What does this mean? It means that groceries are outrageous. For my tax refund this year, I decided I can use all my extra cash to by fresh fruits. However, the upside to this is that I am basically only spending money on groceries and rent. There is not really clothing stores here and online ordering has always been troublesome for me. I am short and fat. I don’t like those odds without being able to try something on. Fast food is nonexistent as well. This is a saving grace for me. The only thing we have is two pizza places and a diner. Honestly, (please don’t shun me) pizza is not my favorite. I’d rather have a sandwich. Yeezy, do I miss my sandwich places. Sometimes I dream of a sub from Jersey Mikes or Cousins. I’m pretty sure my first trip off the island I will gain 100 lbs. just because I will be so overwhelmed with my options of fast food I will eat them all. I’m cool with it. As I said though, talk about a money saver. I spent way more than I care to admit on fast food in NYC. I was the queen of grubhub and front door wine delivery. I miss these things while simultaneously being so thankful they are not available to me.

The most fascinating transition on the island has been from winter to spring. I heard it all winter long: “Trust me, it is such a different place when it is spring. All of the sudden there will be whales, seals, otters, bears. [OH MY!] You won’t even recognize the island.” Granted, I have only gotten a glimpse of this, but they were not kidding. I saw my first whale and I was so excited I regressed to being a 2 year old. I was clapping and jumping around. I will not lie… winter is ROUGH here. The sun goes down at like 2pm. It is dark and cold and it was all the more difficult for me because I didn’t have a whole lot of friends because I was/am new. This was the depression cocktail my introvert half of me was looking for. I felt like I was hibernating with the bears. I barely remember the month of December which is v. unlike me because that is my favorite month (and [not] coincidentally the birthday month of moi, Britney, and Jay-z). I can’t even begin to imagine what summer is like here. One nice day with whales and I am a new woman. Rumor has it the sun stays out until 11pm. I am talking the literal opposite of winter. I am also hoping by next winter I will discover a hobby like jam making or something cool like that to occupy my dark days. I’ll use my summer energy to discover such hobby. *My idea of what is cool may vary from others*

Speaking of whales, the nature here is like living on front of national geographic. I see a minimum of 2 eagles a day, and that’s without leaving my apartment. I haven’t seen a bear yet, but I can’t wait. There are tree’s everywhere. Oh and did I mention it is an island, so there is also water everywhere. To quote a personal hero, Moana, “I’ve been staring at the edge of the water, ‘long as I can remember” & it really does call me. I am never as happy as I am when I am in, near, or around water. Good thing I chose an island I suppose. The views are instagram gold. I can’t go 2 days without posting a landscape photo. It’s an addiction. I love to capture the everyday beauty that exists here.

Speaking of beauty, one of my favorite parts of the island are the humans that occupy it. Sure, bears are great, but so are the people! If you would have told me that one day I would be living on an island where MAGA hats are common and guns are owned by everyone you know except for you and the other new person that moved to island, I probably would have been like “nah… I’m good.” Except living here has been a reminder that I believe most people are inherently good. I know this is the hopeless romantic in me and I also know I speak from a place of privilege, but if y’all could see it. I may not agree with their politics or ideals or religion, but if I am ever in a pickle here, I am not worried. It doesn’t matter where I am from or that I am new, people have invited me into their homes. People trust me with their kids. Everyone smiles and says hello to me. If I need something, I can go to my neighbors house and if they don’t have it, someone they know will. I could get all the help I could ever need here. I have not seen a community like this anywhere else I have lived. In New York, I spoke to my neighbors maybe twice and it was only because I was forced on the elevator with them and I hated every minute of it. Here, people talk to you all day long. They also don’t care that I am terrified of guns or have a Hillary picture next to my bed stand. They ask me about my day and how I am settling in and check-in on me. Complete strangers do this. I kid you not. Since I am heavily involved in politics and hope to one day be a politician, it can be hard to separate people from these two polar opposites we have created. I am an optimist through and through. Call me naive (as my first boss out of undergrad did) but I don’t really care. I believe that we as humans care about other humans, first and foremost. We need to break down walls. To do that we need to talk and remember that we all have beating hearts inside of us and we are all connected in this way. I was reminded of this as I watched Queer Eye and that beautiful moment between Karamo Brown, a black man, and Cory, a white cop. If we want to remind people of humanity, we have to demonstrate humanity to all. Not just those who we agree with. Don’t get me wrong, this island has it’s problems and not everyone gets along, but for the most part people have each others backs here. It is a magnificent thing to witness.

I did not expect to go on that rant. Sorry, not sorry.

So, just to recap:

1. ENOUGH
2. Island life is unlike any other life.
3. What is time?
4. ALL MY MONEY GOES TO GROCERIES
5. I love subs.
6. winter is rough
7. summer is magic
8. Prince of Wales is a beautiful place
9. Instagram is my addiction
10. Humans are humans
11. Love wins

I hope this all made sense. I am still getting over a strange sickness and it has been making me wonky. Which reminds me, island life is also living in a petri dish of illness. If you have any questions about island life and my time in Alaska feel free to ask away! And if you are interested in seeing these views I speak of follow me on instagram: sarahlorrainerobinson