The promise of something better

There is something so appealing about unfamiliar turf. I mean, of course, I’ve thought guys were cute before; and the truth is, I thought I was in love once… but I’d never go sprinting back for seconds. That is until the most recent romance blossomed. He decided to take a chance on me. 

Wasn’t long until we held hands, kissed, shared stories, and even some personal details about ourselves and our lives. I remember him pleating me into his arms, burrowing his face in my neck, and every hair standing on end. My heart quickstepped. He wanted to kiss me. That scared me. I was scared because my emotions were growing ever-so-rapidly.

Upon leaving, I kissed him like I might never see him again. Maybe that’s because always, in the back of my mind, I realize that’s a distinct possibility. The connection wasn’t just about the delicious electricity coursing through my veins. It was all about love. 

I couldn’t believe how much I missed him minutes after we separated. He was all I could think about. All day, the only clear picture was his face. The only sound I wanted to hear, his soft hello. Unrehearsed words tumbled out of my mouth frequently, but this isn’t anything new. He always says the right things. Maybe he should be a politician. I suspected he might be the right person the first night we met. He was so sure of himself, his beliefs. He didn’t let me sway him. I loved his self-confidence. His obvious loyalty.

The first time I kissed him, I felt like a bride on her wedding night. One kiss, I was totally hooked. I’d follow him across the Universe if I had to. We were connected by an invisible chain. It was very long, very light; but also very strong. It can’t rust. It can’t break. The only thing that could sever it would be if he stopped loving me. 

When it comes to dating, the beginners rules say to watch the other players, learn how they “tell.” In other words, read their body language. You can see what they’ve got in their eyes. Appearances can be deceptive. If I had tumbled for every handsome boy who looked my way, I shudder to think where I might be today! For once in my life, I thought I had won. 

The family even became involved. Rather than me having to confess to something this special, my mother saved me the trouble. She needed to know every detail about this new “boyfriend.” I suppose you could call him that. Once the cat had halfway escaped from the bag, she wanted to know all. “Come tell me more. Who is he? Is he cute? How old is he? Does he go to school?” She grills me all the way through, and I think I became happier every time his name crossed my lips.

I try to soak up these emotions. Sponge them up, absorb them through my skin, into my flesh, so they’ll always live inside of me. But nothing is static. If I’ve learned anything at all in twenty-one years, it’s that things change. What you feel bad about one day can turn around like that. Same goes for the things you care about. If love has no more meaning than that, I don’t want it now or ever again. Don’t want to hear the word or wear its scars. 

Heart bruised, eyes swollen almost shut from crying, no way can I live like this. Part of me doesn’t want to see him. I’m not much good at good-byes. But the bigger part wants to hold him.  I feel the need to see him. Right away. Even looking the way I do. 

I’m shaking. There are tears in my eyes. He likes me. I love him.  Would he decide to stay if I tried coercion instead of a simple plea? I wish we could begin a slow mutual exploration. As we learn together, the fears would fall away. Sheer exhilaration—like standing on the very edge of a cliff, with the wind of your face. We could go anywhere and go home richer than when we arrived. Couldn’t we? …Couldn’t we?

People come. People go. Although in Utah, people mostly stay; just not the right people. But worrying over it won’t help anyone. Especially not me.  I need to go with the flow. I need to not make waves, not buck the current. Trying to fly well below the radar has never been my strong suit.

Those powerful little words...

I wrote the following piece a few months ago, but the ideas placed below still prove to be true.

The romance department has proved to be a rollercoaster, but I'm positive that I will find a truly complementary man. Vulnerability is a difficult path to take, and so it’s rarely exposed.

It is not safe to assume that anybody has forged themselves a simple path. In fact, bridges are built every direction. I tested the waters of many, then soon realized I am only one person, that I can only follow one path. I quickly set fire to those  countless bridges, and chose to walk straight, blindly.

I constantly remind myself that I am unique; just like everybody else. While looking at humanity as a whole, it is easy to believe we’re spinning images of one another. The arbitrary social norms have us walk the same, talk the same, eat the same, and sleep the same. But upon looking in the mirror, I found resolute righteousness. Somebody I loved.

You have to love yourself before you can find that undeniable passion with another. You know, the kind of love that sends your heart jolting, setting the beat apace. I thought I had found that kind of love, but destiny knocked me back into place. So here I am, patiently waiting for the day when I know how it feels to love somebody more than myself. Love that person more than life itself. Luck will find its way into my heart, and for that, I’m desperately longing.

And there it was; what I had been longing for. Right in front of me. His eloquence caught me off guard. My eyes remained fixed on how his lips separated brilliantly as each word was spoken. Although I felt the distance between us, my connection to him was magnetic; defied all gravity. I slipped my hand onto the knee next to mine and grasped it tightly due to pure awe. I’d found what I’d been searching for, or so I thought.

Days went by with no contact. After all, he wasn’t even aware of my existence. No problem. I made him aware. We soon became acquainted, and bantered with one another. During an evening under the brilliant night sky, the flirtation level sky-rocketed. Romance bloomed, and the seven letter word that changed everything occurred: k i s s i n g. To me, it was serendipitous. For him, completely and utterly unexpected.

Things soon changed. Confusion set in. Romance became one-sided, and eventually dissipated into thin air. If only there was a way to put into words what I felt; what I’m feeling. However, it is a feeling that is rather indescribable. The friendship remains, and for that I am sincerely grateful.

Perhaps nobody has ever asked what kind of fantasies make you weak in the knees. Let’s face it: They shouldn’t dare ask me – Not everybody has a cast-iron stomach. However, the energy as of late has encouraged me to come to a realization of my perfect fantasy. This has proven difficult because I have a knack of pretending that I’m totally turned off, when I’m totally turned on.

Instead of trying to make myself ‘perfect’ for someone else, I’ve began to look for the person who’s willing to accept me as I am. Even if I’m not seeking a life partnership, I still want somebody who’ll sincerely want to get to me; the real me. It’s time to shrug off judgments from those who don’t matter. The single life is hard enough without taking these totally avoidable hits to your self-esteem. Next time, I’ll more selective about who I date.

Life as I know it.

I’ve decided to break up the monotony of my poetic rambling and talk about my life as it actually is. I suppose I will lose some readers to this post, but I also suppose I will gain a few.  Before I begin, I believe it is of high importance to state that I do not say any of this from a religious standpoint, but due to mere factually-based articles I have read and first-hand experience in speaking with individuals who struggle deeply with any of the 'issues' mentioned below.  Let me begin…

I am currently pursuing my Bachelors of Science in Psychology at The University of Utah. I have a substantial interest in attending Graduate School with respect to Clinical Psychology. I have not yet decided as to whether I'm more interested in a clinically-based career or something more research-oriented. Through time and experience, I believe that I will come to know what is more fitting.

As I mentioned, I am avidly working to become a Clinical Psychologist. I’m regularly asked, “So what’s the difference between a Psychologist and a Psychiatrist?” Good question!  Both professionals treat people with widely varying ‘issues’ per se; things like mild depression to schizophrenia. Both professionals can practice psychotherapy and do research as well. 

However, psychiatrists are medical doctors and psychologists have received doctorate degrees (PhD or PsyD). The suffix "-iatry" means "medical treatment," and "-logy" means "science" or "theory." With that being said, psychiatry is the medical treatment of psyche, and psychology is the science of psyche.

After having explained this, I often am told that I “chose the easier route.” This is actually quite false; as it has been proven that Clinical Psychology Graduate programs are more difficult to get into than Medical School nowadays. While Medical School is 4 years and residency for psychiatry is an additional 4 years, we can conclude this path is about 8 years.  Clinical Psychology programs take anywhere from 5-7 years, depending on both internal and external factors. I would say that the difference of one year would not qualify the route of becoming a Psychologist any ‘easier.’

I am beyond passionate about the work; and am not concerned about the time it will take to reach my ultimate goal. I believe that I can provide the necessary courage and strength to help others through life's challenges. I am an irrepressibly cheerful individual, but my dedication to changing the world of mental health surpasses my desires among everything else. I am fascinated with addiction as a generality and am very open to every aspect of Psychology. I would love to not only learn more about addiction related to chemical dependency, but also delve deeper into the realm of addiction in relation to pornography. I have not delayed my studies in either of these regards; in fact, I read an article in a scholarly journal daily. 

I also have been looking to be placed within organizations to gain more field experience. Upon looking over Utah’s mental-illness organizations, I found myself to be incredibly interested in two of them. These two organizations being: LifeStone Center and NAMI.

I (also) have a fascination with psychopathic behavior (homicidal ideation specifically); much like that of Ted Bundy’s. Ted Bundy was raised in a healthy Christian home.   He led a very normal life, besides one very small and potent segment that he chose to keep highly secretive. That segment being: pornography.

Being exposed to soft-core pornography at age 12, then gradually exposed to pornography of a more graphic nature, he became enslaved. He states, “It happened in stages; gradually. It doesn’t happen, well necessarily to me, overnight. Once you become addicted to it, you crave something more potent or graphic. Like an addiction, you crave something that is harder, and harder, and harder.” His addiction led to compulsive thinking that soon translated into compulsive action.

I deem his statement, “Those who are influenced largely by violence in the media are not some type of inherent monsters. We are your sons, your brothers, and your husband’s” to be incredibly powerful. He brings up the controversy that arises when talking about pornography. Pornography doesn’t have the same ghastly effects on everyone, as it did on him. This causes me to wonder why he was particularly so vulnerable to its harmful effects? Could there be some type of genetic pre-disposition that is triggered when viewing this type of media?

It isn’t about “blaming” pornography for this type of behavior. We are all conscious in making our own decisions. The real question is that of how this type of literature can contribute to violent behavior. For those who are seeking help with any type of addiction, it is known that prevention is best. However, many of us become enslaved in addiction and need help to find our way out.  

I am so thrilled to be looking at Graduate programs as of recent, and have began to find a few that have significantly sparked my interest. Those being: University of Maryland, Berkeley, and Vanderbilt. **Cross your fingers that I am accepted!!**

Find fire within.

Light is of utmost importance when it comes to things being revealed. We need light to see. If light and sight are deemed to be so important, why do so many of us allow ourselves to cringe at the very sight of light? Turning our backs and pulling our sheets over our eyes. Are we even conscious in doing so? 

When we’re first born, we spend ½ of our time dreaming-even more prenatally. We sleep over 1/3 of our lives. Of that 1/3, we dream about 2 ½ hours a night. This is considered to be REM sleep. All mammals experience REM each night. REM is considered to be the “deep stage of sleep marked by rapid eye movements, high-frequency, brain waves, and dreaming.” 

Although it isn’t empirically based, I believe that dreams are a product of our hidden desires and fears. Facing that particular fear in your dream may solve that perceived ‘problem’ subconsciously. While in the REM stage of sleep, your muscles are in a state of paralysis. Although my thoughts are not of typical nature, I have found this to be quite significant. 

How many of us can be alone with ourselves- truly, 100% alone? Imagine yourself in a small, white, square room. The walls are bare. The only possession you have is your mind. You are given time to let your mind run free; to delve into your own, inner, private reality.  For some, this may lead to paralysis. Do you enjoy being alone? Or would you drive yourself to madness?

For I have been to madness and back, countless times. My mind is my greatest gift, but also my greatest curse. I am very selective about what I say and to whom I say it. Up until yesterday, I was avidly searching for my void to be filled. The void being: love.

As the cliché quote states, “You cannot truly love somebody until you love yourself.” So many quotes are overused, and I believe this to be one of them. However, upon dissecting it for hours on end, I realized that I was allowing myself to be the product of others’ opinions of myself. No matter how many people showed their love for me, I could not accept it in entirety. I did not love myself, and I did indeed realize I only need my personal approval. For that, I am desperately longing.

I find myself enjoying the company of all types of people. I don’t ‘transform’ depending on my surrounding per se, but I do find commonalities & play off of those. Very few of you have gotten to know me for who I truly am. Not the surfaced, happy-go-lucky version; but the version who falls into the dark, back into the light, and then into every shade of gray.

While neurotransmitters and endogenous chemicals are theoretically responsible for our state of mind, I do, in fact, believe that happiness is a choice. While being brief, and although I am young, I have faced some of the most tumultuous events I have heard of. I do not say this for pity, or for a sympathy vote, but rather so you can understand that while my life may seem to be ‘butterflies and roses,’ it is not that way. I am grateful for my tribulations.

With tribulation, there is opposition. Luckily for me, the opposing side is far more prevalent. I have been so blessed as to have the most wonderful family somebody could ask for. I hope to someday be half as incredible as my father; if I obtain that goal, I will have been successful beyond measure. He sees the good in all. He never uses unkind words. His actions show his true colors, or should I say ‘color,’ (not plural). He is white as snow; being pure in heart, in intention, and in all that He does.

Upon growing up, I have been labeled as ‘opinionated.’ This is very true. I wish I could say that I find the label to be endearing; but knowing the roots of where it derived, I sadly cannot. I have been quite rude to many, have acted as if I were superior to some, and manipulated others into believing I cared. For this, I am not proud. 

With high hopes of someday being a renowned Psychologist, I have recently realized the value in every life; in every breath. For nobody is superior to another. Not one of us could face mortality alone. We need the assistance of a higher being. For those who are Atheist or Agnostic, I plead with you to notice the miracles that occur each day. Let us not expect God to do all of the work. Although He is fully capable, we can be of help to Heaven. We are all here to help one another, so please, let us begin to do just that.

One voice can make all the difference. Make your mind up on all accounts, and if you feel threatened or devalued, speak up. You can be firm, yet kind. If you do not see eye-to-eye, don’t degrade another for their allegations. Rather, come to an understanding from their perspective. Let us perform elegantly in all that we do. 

Words can only mean so much, so I pray that I can translate all of these thoughts into action. I sincerely do love all mankind. I ask that if you found this ‘blog’ to be worthy of reading, that you will share it with others. I would appreciate your feedback more than you could fathom. 

I want to know that my writing has not been in vain. I do not ask for this for recognition or praise; but because I want to assist others in finding relief. If anyone is struggling in any facet, know that I am here to talk; to listen. I will endear myself to you; no matter how great or small your trial may be. I want to be the light that you so eagerly run from. Reach out no matter how many times you have been hurt.

We all play the martyr at some point. For those who are Christian, we oft turn to God. I cannot help the way that He can, but I am always available to try if you allow me to. 

-Kayli

Let's get real. (pun intended)

One of my favorite past-times is people-watching. Upon being at the Marriott Library yesterday, I began to ponder on what it means to be 'real.' Many individuals passed with very apparent fake hair/extensions, fake hair-color, fake tans, fake eyelashes, fake nails,  fake breasts, & the list goes on. What do these girls REALLY look like? Are their innards as fake as their outward appearance? 

There is little worse than being in-class, sitting behind a girl with nappy clip-in extensions. If you're going to wear them, please get a second opinion prior to leaving your house. Often times, the color of the extensions doesn't even match their natural hair whatsoever. For the love of heaven above... please, again, get a second opinion. 

Many women, and men, dye their hair (including me). It allows for uniqueness, complementary tones, and can simply be fun. There is a fine line between highlights & one-inch streaks of blonde annihilating your head. Let's continue...

Again, many women, and men go tanning. It can be very relaxing, clear up breakouts, and help with depression by getting necessary Vitamin D. For you spray tanners, PLEASE choose Palm Beach. You will no longer look like you rolled in a pile of Doritos, and will likely have people paying attention to you for the right reasons..

Fake eyelashes are fantastic. Ahem, but... if yours have mascara caked onto them, glue fixating the edges, or are covered in glitter (due to your eyeshadow), please remove them. Fake eyelashes are not supposed to make you look like a drag queen. 

Fake nails... who cares? We've all had 'em at some point.

Fake breasts should look natural. If you are a size zero with double D's, we've got a problem. If you're looking to be a porn star, that's A-OK with me, but please hide your breasts while you're not in the act. Women are looking at you; and not because they are jealous. Men are objectifying you. So please, cover up. 

We're all guilty of these things we see as 'luxury services.' I think that if we genuinely sat down and realized what our image contained, we would probably modify a few of our obsessions. If you're plastered with makeup, hit up the NARS or Bare Minerals counter in Nordstrom. They have professionals eagerly waiting to assist you.

Beauty should be inward-out, not vice versa. 

Hymn for the dead

This isn’t meant to be a piece of mourning, but rather words on a page. They flow freely, so I apologize if it isn't ideal or grammatically flawless. If you have any negative feedback, please refrain or e-mail it to your mother. 

Whilst I’ve read others thoughts that are similar to my own, my heart aches. That is, what heart I may have left. We’ve all struggled with trials, tribulations, heartbreak, and many other unfortunate events; but I do believe my journey to be quite unique. It is a journey that involves certain things I will take to my grave. Other things are shared selectively, and tastefully. 

And so they say, “sticks & stones may break my bones, but words may never hurt me.” From whomever this quote originated, I feel as if I would diagnose them with (subtype: disorganized) schizophrenia. The flat affect is the only valid cause to have an emotional indifference upon being verbally attacked. For I believe the human language to be the most powerful force on this earth. 

Although it may be powerful, language cannot fully encompass what one may feel. There are scars that will never heal; internal wounds which are currently bleeding profusely, and bruises decorating all that is left. Much of what has caused this mural of pain include: things that people have said, rejection, being disliked, being publicly humiliated, and somehow, never finding anyone who loves you for who you truly are. If they claim love, it’s conditional at best. 

To know that my sarcasm, hostility, rudeness, abrasiveness, or any other negative action has caused people to be cut, sometimes deeply, pains me to the very brim. Using derogatory terms casually wasn’t meant to hurt anyone. To know how offended some have been is agonizing, in & of itself. For that, I am truly ignominious. I will be better tomorrow; I swear. 

Some are blessed with awe-inspiring moments, and I happen to be one of them. From birth, I have thought that with opposition being prevalent in my life, I was genetically pre-disposed to certain highs and lows. You can only ask, “Why me?” so many times. We won’t always get an answer here, and it’s important to remember that mortality does not always have a fairy-tale ending. 

Evoking certain emotions can be lethal, but is it healthier to hide them away? I have suppressed my emotional state for years on end, and the buildup has been detrimental. Be open about how you are feeling; as open as you can be. Although the other party may not be able to feel exactly as you do, know that God does. He lives. He knows. He loves.

Someday, I hope to have mended the broken-hearted. I hope to save the souls of many. I will endear myself to those who don’t believe their life is worth living. My heart sings a hymn for the dead every passing moment. In death, as in life, we are one in the same. Let us all sound together for a greater cause. Let us speak kindly about, and to, one another. Let us patch up others wounds if we may. For the field is truly full of tulips; we just have to get down and smell them.

Beauty reflects in your eyes.

Typically, a blog written by a 21-year-old girl would involve high amounts of commentary on things such as fashion, fame, or food. However, this blog is going to be the very blatant voice of a girl who is vastly different than most. I am going to delve deep into what I feel passionately about. If you so choose to read, thank you. If not, that is just fine too. 

As time has passed, I have began to blossom. I have had a vision of my divine nature, and the difference I can make. As a woman, I feel liberated! I would love for there to be more women who find themselves able to make a difference- even if they have to go against what society wishes them to be. Our goal should be to find inner serenity.

Women are taught from an early age that their worth is equivalent to their attractiveness. We live in a world where we are constantly trying to stay caught up with the new fashion trends, the new hairstyles, and strive to stay thin by dieting and, in some cases, starvation. 

This is an unspeakable atrocity! For some of the most respected women are not perceived to be the most beautiful. "There is no cosmetic for beauty like happiness." It is the women who are irrepressibly cheerful, and constantly striving to better themselves who illuminate the world around them.

Lovely girls, do not feel obligated to flaunt your bodies! By allowing your mind the control it deserves, your body will not be the focus. Cover yourself to be seen as you truly are; rather than being viewed as someone who is currently being judged by you. It will allow for opportunity of getting to know somebody on a deeper level. If you try to talk to a pretty face forever, the outcome will likely be mundane.

We all have our own opinion’s on what’s beautiful, but there is beauty in all things. Although most of my points of view are very aesthetic, I do believe that anyone can be beautiful as long as they’re beautiful to themselves. We make life beautiful, because we are the ones who have the capacity to find beauty in life.  Those who hold life as precious, are infinitely precious themselves.