I’m a stubborn woman, who can be swayed. I’m levelheaded and open-minded. I’m fiercely fiery and an aspiring sweetheart. I’m tempted by my emotions and as misunderstood as those I misunderstand.
What I’m saying is, I’m a walking contradiction, and I don’t think that’s extraordinary. I change everyday. There are some things that remain constant, like I’m a daughter, a sister, a wife, a dog mom, a friend. But those adjectives only cast a silhouette of who I really am and not even a whole silhouette.
Many people live by the phrase a picture is worth a thousand words, but you know nothing about me by my pictures… or do you?
Seeing that photo of me may stir a few thoughts in your mind, but the certainty of them is finite: it was cloudy, I was posing in skiing gear (there’s no proof I actually went down), I shuffled sideways over to that spot, I wasn’t alone, and I was most likely in the Rocky Mountains.
My words can tell you much more, and that’s my point. Although photos are delightful, I think their main purpose is to remind us of the experience when the picture was taken. The story behind the photo is always better, in my opinion. I was so far from the edge because I was terrified I’d accidentally slide off the side with my ungracefulness. The hat is my step-sister’s, who took the photo and treated me to hot cocoa before arriving on that monsterous hill. At the bottom of this blue slope (which is supposed to be intermediate level), I plowed through the orange netted fence because I didn’t slow down enough to turn. This was the first and last time I skiied in Colorado.
As an undergraduate in English, I’ve learned more about this language and the people who use it than I ever thought imaginable. I’ve learned how to tap into my mind’s potential and expand myself beyond the mold society created for me. But then again, I’ve always carved my own path through this life. College simply gave me the tools to carve a better path.
Now that I’m supposed to be a college graduate and have my life together (which I think only people under 18 believe that anymore), I’m stuck bushwhacking my way through life still trying to define myself and move towards what makes me (and my husband) happy. Because if you’re not happy, then why are you doing it and is it truly worth it?
Now that you’ve read all that, in short, I can’t tell you a whole lot about me because I’m not entirely sure who I am, which is the whole point of this blog. (Well, that and getting some credibility out there because apparently finding a writing job is as hard as everyone thinks.)
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