Happy Ann'y

Two years ago today I decided I was going to start writing again. I had no idea what I was doing (spoiler alert: still don't) and I had no idea what I wanted to write about. It turns out, I want to write about it all. The good, the funny, the bad, and the ugly. I've grown up a lot with you here - and not just as a writer.

I've told you stories about waking up in a trash can, moving to New York, and my inner dialogue when I have to do anything that requires being physically active. I hope you've enjoyed laughing along with me (or more likely, at me) and I can assure you that there will be plenty more of these stories to come.

You've also been there with me in the darkest moments of my life. Right now you're staring at a screen merely reading typed words but on the other side of that screen is a woman who has cried for hours in front of you, wondering if she's sharing too much but still needing to share it all. I've been told that I should be ashamed and that God is disappointed in me. That what I'm sharing some "don't have the stomach for." I've learned that my words aren't meant for these people and I've also learned to be okay with that.

As of this morning, I have 22,955 pageviews. That might not seem like a lot to some. But to me that number represents every time someone thought something that I had penned was worthy of reading. Thank you for your comments and likes and most of all, thank you for reading.

Are We Clear?

Hands down one of my biggest weaknesses is that I hate confrontation. I'm horrible at standing up for myself. I bury my head in the sand. I pretend that problems don't exist. Super healthy, I know. So what I'm about to tell you is a pretty big deal for me. Not kidding, currently listening to Sia's "Unstoppable" on repeat and feel like I could go run a marathon. Please don't make fun of me. Here we go...

Over the last several months I've had to deal with sexual harassment from someone with whom I have a professional relationship (for the record, he is not employed by my firm). I won't go into the specifics of the conversations and offhand remarks but I'll be clear about the fact that there was absolutely no ambiguity in their nature - they were inappropriate and offensive.

So today I came into work, wrote out a mini speech, and pulled my harasser aside to tell him in a clear, calm and professional manner that I was done. I wasn't putting up with it anymore. It was terrible and scary and after our conversation, I walked away slightly shaking. When I got back to my office I stared at my little speech, so proud that I had finally stood up to a man that was taking advantage of his power, his position, and our professional relationship.

Recently, Fox let go of two individuals who were accused of sexual harassment in the workplace. Something I heard across multiple channels was, "why didn't these victims say anything?" I can't speak for everyone but I know that when I've had to deal with sexual harassment in the workplace (it's happened twice before), I've felt vulnerable, ashamed, and even concerned about what implications speaking up could have on my harasser. It won't make sense to everyone and I'm not really concerned with the ones who don't get it. I'm concerned about the ones who've experienced it, who are experiencing it, and those who don't know what to do next. 

After reading through my speech a few more times I realized that a lot of women don't even know what words to say to their harasser. My advice? Craft your message without regard for his feelings. Because he didn't take yours into account when he touched you inappropriately or continued to ask you out even though you had said 'no' on multiple other occasions. He didn't concern himself with the fact that you might be uncomfortable. Or embarrassed. Or upset. So why should you care?

Below is what I used to confront my harasser. If you're experiencing sexual harassment, please feel free to use some or all of it. Use it as inspiration. Copy and paste it, if you'd like. Just please say something. I know it isn't easy. But I promise you'll feel better once you do.

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"I wanted to address the inappropriate remarks you've been making towards me since we've started working together. I'm not sure what kind of working environment you're used to operating in but I can assure you that the comments you've made over the last several months will no longer be tolerated by me.

What you're doing is sexual harassment and I don't care if your intention is to be funny or playful. Your comments are offensive and more than that, they are demeaning. I do not exist in this world for your amusement. I am a professional and I expect to be treated as such.

Going forward, I would like to continue our working relationship without these remarks. Please do not comment on my appearance, my dating preferences or inquire about spending time alone with me outside of the office. Are we clear?"

Letting Go of Toxic Relationships

You might think it's really easy to write. You might think the words just flow. No pauses. No questions. No edits. Some days I can write and write and write and there are still more words inside of me. But some days the idea of writing is painful. Some days there aren't words in the English language to describe what I'm feeling. And sometimes what I'm feeling is so exhausting that I can't even muster the energy to write about it.

My cursor has been blinking on this post for over a year. Partly because I'm having a hard time finding the words and partly because I'm not positive whatever words I do come up with should be floating around the internet. I don't want to be dramatic. I don't want to be mysterious. I'm not fishing for questions and comments. I really don't even want to publish this post. But I need to get this out.

Recently, I've let go of someone very important to me. It wasn't an easy decision and it's an unnatural goodbye. But the relationship had become so toxic that its poison was seeping into almost every area of my life. I tried repeatedly to remedy the situation. I put aside my feelings for the sake of the relationship. I stifled words that should have been spoken a very long time ago. I tried caring too much and I tried not caring at all. And still...here I am.

Part of growing up is realizing when to walk away from situations that cause you harm. It's even harder to do so when you don't want to walk away. I feel guilty. Selfish. Uncaring. Like a horrible human being. And then I have to remind myself that there is nothing wrong with prioritizing my own mental health and happiness. This has been the hardest lesson I've had to learn as an adult. Sometimes you have to love from a distance.

If you're struggling in a toxic relationship, I hope you know it's okay to walk away. I know it's not going to be easy. It doesn't matter if it's a sibling, lover or parent. I want you to know that regardless of what kind of love it is, it shouldn't hurt. It shouldn't manipulate. You are allowed to preserve your happiness. 

FAQs

So in case I haven't advertised it enough on all of my social media platforms (that was a joke, I literally spam everyone), I'm writing a novel. If you were curious about it, here are some FAQs:

OMG, you're writing a book? 

Let's use the term "writing" loosely. It's been almost a year and I'm less than 10,000 words in. Slow and steady wins the race?

What's it about? 

Hmmm tricky. I don't want to give the whole thing away, but it's inspired by true events with plenty of fiction sprinkled throughout that I won't owe anyone any royalties or apologies.

Isn't it, like, hard writing a book? 

Uhmmm, obvi. People like to romanticize the writing process. It's not easy. It doesn't come naturally. It doesn't pour out of you. Okay, sometimes it does. But most days I struggle to come up with a complete sentence. It's certainly something you have to work at. It's emotionally and mentally draining. Sometimes I feel like I've written a masterpiece and sometimes I feel like I should throw my iPad out the window.

When do you find time to write?

I have plenty of time to write I'm just not disciplined enough to devote all of my free time to this project. For example, I am currently sitting in a coffee shop in Brooklyn. I came here with the intent to work on my novel for a couple of hours and here I am writing a blog post about it instead. And also staring at some chick who is wearing a gold, spaghetti strapped midi dress and rain booties. What?! #welcometonewyork

What inspires you?

Emotion. The highest of highs and the lowest of lows. Which is why you shouldn't bank on inspiration to write. Which is why writing is so difficult. You have to write even when you are feeling even-keeled.

Do you listen to music when you write or do you need silence?

Even in college I needed to be around other humans to write. I can't be alone or in a quiet space. I feel disconnected. My most ideal setting for writing is a somewhat busy coffee shop with free wifi and good booze. As for the music, I literally listen to "Cancer" by Twenty One Pilots on repeat. Over and over and over and over and over......

Are you trying to get published? 

Yes and no. That's not my end goal. I just want to write. And to be able to say that I finished a novel. That is a huge accomplishment and I would honestly be happy to just be able to put a check mark next to that item. That being said, when I finish this thing I will certainly ship it off to a couple of people with high hopes but I'm not holding my breath and neither should you.

Can I read what you have written so far? 

No.

Wait, why not? 

How do I put this....I would rather stand in front of you naked and let you criticize my physical body than let you read the most personal thing I've ever written in draft form.

I'm also writing a book, do you have any tips? 

Good luck. Ha. Okay, but seriously good luck. It's hard and it sucks and most days you wonder why you think anyone would want to read anything you write. But plenty of published authors felt/feel that same way and look where they are.

I'm sure I'll keep you guys updated about the progress but for the time being, just know that if I'm not writing blog posts it's because I'm trying to write something a little more permanent.

I Know

TRIGGER WARNING: This post contains information about sexual assault which may be triggering to survivors.

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It's just a dress. A short, blue dress with crochet details on the back straps. I've worn it maybe three times my entire life. It's hanging in the far left corner of my closet with dresses I've convinced myself I will eventually fit into again. The fact that I haven't thrown it out amazes even me. Every single time I see it I think about him. It doesn't send me into a tailspin. But it gives me pause and I instantly think of a summer night in 2015. Back when I thought rape was something that happened to other people, not to me.

It's not my intention to beat everyone over the head with my story. Most of you will skim this and click the back button in your browser to continue doing whatever it is you were doing on Facebook. Something less depressing. Something that doesn't make you think so much. This post isn't meant for you.

This post is for the woman who can't look at her naked body without feeling ashamed. This is for the girl who hears a certain song play on the radio and has to turn the station. It's for the female college student who smells his cologne while walking to class and immediately runs to the bathroom for safety.

I see you. I know that you are terrified of your truth. I know that your mind won't stop buzzing with questioning and self doubt. I know how much it hurts to remember. I get how one day you want to scream the truth and the next you bury it as far down inside of you as possible. I know. I know.

Today might not be the day you are ready to say it out loud. I still struggle with that. But I hope today is the day you realize that you are not alone. I'm here. I know.

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April is Sexual Assault Awareness and Prevention Month. If you need confidential advice or just someone to talk to, please reach out to me or to someone at RAINN.