Tag: vulnerable

why i love the sun(sets) in california

djrendezvous3Leave a comment

when I go to the beach or sit in my backyard, i like to have moments to myself where i am able to reflect on my decisions (past and future ones) while i look at the sun setting. 

the sun has always drawn me (even though i hate the heat). i’m not sure why either. maybe it’s because i was born in arizona and raised in california but that has always been a question in the back of my head.

there is a point in the day where the sun becomes vulnerable. as the heat begins to die down and the night chill takes over, the sun is at its weakest and i am infatuated with that moment. when this key element for human survival is powerless, i am able to become emotionally naked. Together, the sun and I are parallels as we expose ourselves.

while i sit on the sand or on the grass and look up at the painted sky, i ask myself these simply put but complex questions: am i happy? and if so, why or why not?

Lately, i have been happy for a plethora of reasons. And today, the sun has made me think of the people who raised me. the sun has made me reflect on my mother who has taught me graciousness and the fundamentals of being a strong woman as well as my father, who installed creativity and imagination into my thought process at a young age.

so tonight, as i look into the golden sky, i thank the sun for keeping me humble and letting me pour my heart out when it and me are completely bare.

photo credit: treehugger.com

insecure

mariethearistocatLeave a comment

it’s hard to come to terms with your body

when you’ve never loved it.

it’s hard to come to terms with a place

that you’ve worked so hard to reach

and not see the change you wanted.

yes, i should feel happy in my body,

but it’s hard to

when everyone else’s is what you want.

it’s hard to love a temple that isn’t decorated the way you’d like.

as a whole, i love myself.

but, there’s no part that i fully love.

i’ve always hated my thighs.

even in kindergarten, i’d pinch them

thinking they’d get smaller

as i sat criss-cross applesauce on my classroom’s brightly-colored rug.

recently, i’ve come to despise the flabbiness of my arms.

it’s not that they’re too big,

but i wish i didn’t have to do millions of push-ups to get the tone i want.

it’s hard to love my stomach,

even though it’s just my organs sitting on top of each other.

Photo Credit: pinterest.com

why couldn’t my genes allow my stomach to rest flat?

why can’t i wear my tight-fitting dress without the bump made by my breakfast? 

no, my body doesn’t empower me.

i wish i was taller, thinner, had thicker hair.

i wish my chin was more defined,

my neck the same color as my face.

i wish i could run longer and faster.

i wish i could dance more gracefully; i wish i had more rhythm.

i wish my eyes didn’t water while i wrote this.

damn you, eyes.

i wish i could see 20/20,

not have to worry about my contacts falling out while i’m swimming 

or be able to fall asleep without being confronted with dry, burning eyes when i wake up.

i wish i looked like i did in my dreams.

i wish i could fly all the way to outerspace and swim in the depths of the ocean without my lungs failing me.

for, even without a complex created by magazines,

it’s still hard for me to love the body i’m in.