I recently started reading a new self-help-y book (don’t tell anyone), and it got me thinking a lot about what it means to love ourselves, and more specifically, about the way we view ourselves. It highlighted a really important element of our being. Self-worth. The mother load. The foundation from which all of our actions, choices, and relationship patterns stem. I thought a lot about how difficult it actually is to establish when it needs to be put into practice. We’ve heard it a thousand times. “You have to love yourself! You have to be whole! You have to come first! Don’t compromise, don’t settle!” Continue reading “Note to Self, You Get to Decide Your Worth”
So typically, I like to believe that I’m on the right path – that I sort of have my shit together and kind of know what I’m doing. Usually when I’m not busy talking myself off of the ledge or having a secret panic attack about whether or not I left the oven on, I like to think that I’m pretty awesome and that I really do have this life thing figured out.
Then some days, I feel like a complete and total loser.
When I see a new Facebook post about marriage, my initial reaction is, Yikes…I’m over here single as fuck, in my pajamas and glasses, with a drunk ballerina knot on my head, still wondering how a mortgage works. Shamefully, it also includes a slew of judgmental thoughts and dismissive comments that either make fun of or question the couple’s resolve. I know that I am not alone in this, as I’ve heard many people in my age group complain about it or comment on how bizarre they find it to be.
What if we were to pump the brakes on that thought process for a second?
Mmm, hot yoga. In theory, it’s one of the most detoxifying, renewing workouts you can partake. You’re pretty sure you’re going to come out completely centered and beaming like all of the crunchy girls that work in the Co-op. Recently, after procrastinating endlessly on Instagram admiring the contortionist girls in their backbends and handstands, I realized it was time to get off my ass and squeeze it into some short-shorts. I decided I would try my hand at some acrobatic shit. All of these girls’ posts were about how alive and connected they felt from their practice, and I yearned for that feeling myself. So, I went to my local Hot Yoga studio and purchased a package.
There were a few things that I discovered.
To the woman sitting across from me, I ask what being a mother in her twenties means.
She finishes the last of her red blend and laughs, revealing purple teeth and makes a crude joke at my expense. Once satisfied with herself, her sharp features get softer. She’s going to be serious about this, she tells me.
It still amazes me when people patronize restaurants and treat their waitstaff like personal slaves. Being a part of the food service industry and dealing with people constantly is no easy feat. I think it’s important to consider a few things when dealing with “the help.” As a member of the National Guild of People who Carry Your Food, I think it’s important to take a moment to mention this phenomenon and to shine some light and perspective on the world of Waitressing.