Anyone who knows me knows that I love to talk. I can talk for hours about anything, to anyone. During recruitment, my sorority sisters would always volunteer me to do all the talking because “I could talk to a tree all day if I had to.” While browsing in the bookstore a few days ago, I ended up talking to a random police officer that I met for an hour and a half. This type of thing happens to me almost every time I go anywhere by myself. I simply have a lot to say. In fact, sometimes I have so much to say that my mouth can’t keep up with my brain and my words come out in a language that I’ve never heard before. Continue reading ““You’re Too Much””
This morning, while trying to pay attention in class (which, let me tell you, is significantly more difficult at 8:30am on a Saturday), my best friend texted me “I need your help.” Knowing her, she could’ve needed anything from a sweater from my closet or a ride to the emergency room. Today, she needed help analyzing a conversation between her and a boy she likes. Since I’m an expert on this subject, I happily obliged.
If you’ve been on the Internet at all throughout the past month, I’m sure you’ve seen at least twenty different people talking about all of the bad things 2016 has brought. Whether they’re referencing the presidential election, the death of a celebrity, or sharing a meme of Kermit the frog – everyone seems to collectively agree that this past year hasn’t been a great one. Well, this may come as a shock to the rest of the Internet, but I don’t feel the same. Of course, I didn’t have a perfect year, either, but throughout the last 365 days, I’ve changed exponentially. Continue reading “What 2016 Taught Me”
It’s that time of year again. Thankfully, I only have one final in class this year, but I’ve been completely swamped in terms of final projects and papers. After three and a half years of college, its safe to say that I feel qualified enough to share a few of my study tips with you! Continue reading “Studying For Finals: A Guide”
This post begins with a big fat womp. Throughout the past few weeks, a lot of things were happening in my life that I did not originally view as positive changes, and I had not been feeling motivated to reach any of the goals that I’d set for myself. I was questioning all of the decisions I had made about my education and career so far. I was even considering ending my paralegal studies program and dropping one of my majors, because I was stressing out about the thought of it consuming my life for the next few months. I called my parents to tell them that I was thinking about changing some things about my education, ready to support my decision with a million reasons why it was the right one. Before I even got the chance, their advice stopped me in my tracks. Continue reading “Don’t Be A Quitter”
As many of my loyal readers probably know, I had a boyfriend on and off throughout my last three years of college. At times, he made me (or I convinced myself he was making me) the happiest girl in the world. However, other times, he made me angry, upset, sad, and mostly, he made me question my self-worth. I don’t feel comfortable discussing the specifics of my relationship, especially publicly on the internet, partly because I am on good terms with him and wouldn’t want to jeopardize that, and partly because I’m choosing to move on from it. The reason I wanted to write anything about this subject at all is because recently, a lot of my good friends have been getting involved with boys who do not care about them. While I was dating my ex, some of my friends hated hearing about the things he would do or say to me, and would yell at me, criticize me, and make me feel even worse about the situation. So I stopped telling them. I kept (or tried my best to keep) it from them every single time he did anything even remotely bad. When I would lie and say nothing was wrong, they would look at me like I was a puppy who just got kicked out of its home. I hated that look, and I hated them for reacting that way. Why couldn’t they see the good in him like I could? Continue reading “You Can’t Make Someone Change If They Don’t Want To”
Throughout the last few years of college, I thought that I was satisfied with how my life was going. I loved being involved with my sorority, I was doing extremely well in school (shocking people every time I told them about my three majors), I had an impressive internship at the courthouse, I landed an awesome job (that I actually liked) at a corporate law firm, and I was dating a boy that made me happy. Then, as I felt senior year approaching, I started to feel differently. Continue reading “Why I Started to Choose Myself”
A few months ago, I was staying at my grandmother’s house in North Carolina. She was looking to get rid of some books, and gave a ton to my mom and I to take home. One in particular caught my eye, and I picked it up right away. I ended up finishing The Street Lawyer by John Grisham in less than one day – having no idea that it would change my life. The story opened with the scene of a homeless man who broke into a large corporate law firm and held several attorneys hostage while he demanded justice, then eventually killed himself. Throughout the rest of the book, the reader was taken through the journey of a young attorney’s quest to figure out why that homeless man chose his specific law firm, and what motivated him to commit suicide. He ended up leaving his lavish lifestyle the firm provided him to become a ‘street lawyer,’ which is essentially an attorney who works without compensation for homeless people and panhandlers who have legal business they need taken care of. Continue reading “My Interview with a Homeless Man”
This is something my uncle used to tell all of his classes when he used to teach middle school math. When the students were introduced to a new concept, they would immediately tell him that they were not able to do it, whining I caaaan’t. He told them, “I can’t” is dead. As you may have guessed, I was definitely one of those annoying middle schoolers who complained and whined about math class, absolutely using the phrase I can’t every other minute. It’s no secret that I used to hate nothing more on this earth than mathematics, despite my uncle’s best efforts to get me to believe that it wasn’t so horrible – quizzing me on my multiplication tables every time he came to my house. I’ll never forget that seven times eight is fifty-six. However, thankfully, this post is not about math (sorry, Uncle Steven) but instead about positivity.