Coffee and a Conversation
As Told Over Brunch is a home for intelligent discourse from the twenty-something perspective - so the stuff you gossip about over mimosas on Sunday morning or over takeout on your friend's couch when happy hour ends too early. We love chatting about our lives, whether it be the relationships we’re building (or destroying), lessons we've learned at work, struggles at school, growing pains we've felt, or even the food we’re talking over.
A couple weeks ago (my turnaround time on blog posts lately have been atrocious), I promised ‘more to come’ at the end of a post about Lasik and how that surgery seemed to be the first falling domino is a series of events that led to some serious introspection and soul-searching.
Welp, I wish I didn’t promise that. I don’t quite have a full thought yet to share, so I’ll just do a collection of bits I’ve saved into my phone and call them advice.
Read MoreIn late high school, I discovered the value of independence and began to expound its virtue in every facet of my life. Even when I dallied in an extended romance mid-college, I never considered bounding it by such terms as “relationship” or “love” (“low self-esteem” and “self-destructive” would’ve been more apt terms honestly).
Since college, I hadn’t even looked to date. A few years ago, I went on a handful dates to prove probably to myself and friends I could date if I wanted to. I found minimal enjoyment in sharing drinks with strangers I really didn’t care to see again, so I gave that business up fast. I aggressively defended my monk life to family members over the holidays.
Read MoreHappiness is one of the largest misconceptions for my generation. We’ve generally been told that if it makes you happy, then you should do it. Happiness seems to be an utmost goal. Our Constitution says it. Sheryl sings it.
In fact, we shock people when we say we aren’t happy. A few weeks ago, I wrote a blog post where I said I wasn’t happy. I forgot I even wrote these words and became surprised when the post dropped and a number of friends reached out asking, “Are you really unhappy?”
Read MoreSometimes I get obsessed with certain things. Like this Tobu remix of Maja Francis', "Come Companion." I listened to it on repeat for an entire work day. Yes -- for 8 hours. One song. Eight glorious hours.
Another topic I've recently obsessed over is happiness. I watched a documentary about happiness, with the key learning that it is part genetic, but most of it is controllable. And people in third-world countries are not markedly more unhappy than first-world because our expectations are too high. I listened to a TED Talk happiness. Then I read a book called, The Happiness Project.
Read MoreAdolescent me is a stark contrast from today me. This shouldn’t surprise anyone. Most people change between middle school and adulthood. Theoretically, we get taller. We lose the acne. We get jobs. (Or you don’t and you go to grad school and prolong a miserable academic existence. Just kidding. Or am I?)
However, my personality has changed more dramatically than my comlexion. And not in a Charmander becomes Charzard way (that was a Pokémon reference for those of you didn’t collect cards in second grade). I more was like a Charmander who became Wartortle (don’t worry, I had to Wikipedia the evolution of Pokémon to make that joke).
Growing up, I was the sensitive bookworm. I wore glasses, read Peter Benchley novels, and kept my heart on my chewed-up sleeve (I teethed a lot in third grade). I hid behind my parents’ legs when confronted by strangers. I also ate a lot of cookies (okay, I was morbidly obese; I’m not even joking). And “leader” was the last thing a teacher would write on my report card.
Read MoreI am a sufferer of resting bitch face. The symptoms included, but are not limited to: being interested in what someone is saying and not looking interested, contentedly working and people thinking something's wrong, and waiting in line for the bathroom and people thinking you're a stone cold bitch, and then being told that. Most of the time, what my face is telling people is not what I really feel. Most of the time I'm happy, or at least content. My face just doesn't quite get the memo.
One of the side effects of this disease is constantly being asked, "Why aren't you happy?" I then turn my resting bitch face toward them and mutter something like "I'm fine, I'm just working”, and everyone takes that to mean I think my life is horrible and I am stressed.
Read MoreAs I'm wrapping up another year of life, I can't help but reflect on how much of a growth year 23 was for me. I was measurably more mature than I was at 21, past the indecision of age 22, yet not as settled into myself as I perceive I will be at 24.
Here are the 24 things I learned from the monumental year of 23.
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Disclaimer: I totally stand behind living a healthy lifestyle, which includes eating right (ish) and working out (ish). That being said, I think it's discouraging to see this plastered on Gold's Gym wall every time I work out:
Now why is this seemingly positive message rubbing me wrong? Well, it's chafing me all over the place because it's wrong, and when it is right, it's still wrong.
It is shallow beyond belief to think that if you simply lose a bit of weight or bulk up or whatever your workout goal is, that your problems will disappear. If you are truly overweight, then yes, working out will drastically change your life (and maybe even save it!), but for the majority of people looking to just lose a few pounds, it's not going to dramatically help you be any less of an asshole (or insert any word in there that applies to you).
I am heavier than ever. I'd tell you how much I weigh, but that's not the type of embarrassment I'm okay with publishing. However, I can tell you that this is the most out of shape I have ever been in my life. But this is also the happiest I have ever been without a doubt.
Every time I decide to diet and exercise seriously, I turn into a wretched bitch. I'm no fun to hang out with because "I need to go to the gym," or "No, I'll just stay home and eat my lettuce wraps and then lay in bed hungry and miserable until I finally fall asleep."
Then I'm a few pounds lighter and a hell of a lot less happy. So, yes, my body may have changed and my life might of changed, but is that really worth it?
But I also want to explicitly say that when I do this workout thing gradually, like limiting my food intake and still working out at least a few times a week, I am happy. I still feel good and healthy, but I'm not neurotic about it. You know where that gets me? Exactly to where I am and have been for awhile now: at a consistent weight that is more than it used to be. But you know what I notice most? The happiness I see everyday in the mirror.
