self empowerment

F*ck Being the Cool Girl.

𝙁𝙪𝙘𝙠 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 “𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗼𝗹 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹.”

Fuck being that girl who forgets about *her* standards; who dismisses someone’s wrongdoings; who doesn’t want to come off confrontational, dramatic, bitchy, toooo much.

The one who sits there and questions...

𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘰𝘶𝘵? 𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘯𝘰? 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘯𝘰? 𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭? 𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘶𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥? 𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵?

...and then concludes the questioning with, “nah, just be cool.”


𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

If you’re constantly playing it cool, being the easy-going, people-pleaser—you’re not going to receive the treatment you want and inevitably will wind up disappointed.

Being the “girl cool” is basically saying... I don’t respect myself. I don’t have beliefs or values that oppose yours, I agree with everything you say. I don’t have standards or boundaries so you can do whatever you want, and I’ll be okay with it. You can show up whenever it’s convenient for you, and I’ll be available.

It’s time to stop putting on the “girl cool” facade and pretending like it’s all okay, when you know it’s not.

Be the girl who stands up for yourself.
The girl who speaks up and vocalizes when things aren’t okay.
The girl who declares boundaries and stands firmly behind them, especially when they’re pushed.
The girl who doesn’t tolerate shitty treatment. The girl who is smart enough, strong enough, and brave enough to walk away because her worth isn’t defined by someone else. Because she knows she deserves better. Because she knows what she wants and won’t settle for less.

You’re a goddamn queen, not the cool girl.

Ya hear me?

Are You Playing Victim?

On November 19th of last year, I left Manhattan, a relationship, and my best friends to move across the country to a place I’d only ever visited once.

I was feeling...heartbroken, afraid, proud, uncertain, overwhelmed, hopeful...all the things; all of them except, ready.

Moving to the city was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made—so was leaving. And that wasn’t exactly a choice I wanted to make, but it was one I knew I needed to make.

I no longer wanted to watch myself play victim as I crumbled in the process of it.

I couldn’t bare to hear myself complain and repeat the same conversation about what I wasn’t happy with one more time.

I was done pretending like I couldn’t fix what was happening. Done acting like I could point fingers, when in reality...there was only one person to blame and that was myself.

Because ultimately, it was my choice. It was my decision to stay in a place with a person who hurt me, repeatedly.

And so I *finally* decided that I didn’t want what I was choosing and I chose something else and that’s when I chose California.

Choices like these aren’t always easy. And even when we know it’s a choice we need to make, we can feel resistant and dubious about our decision—I for sure did.

Sometimes I wish people could’ve see me when I was in the middle of my suffering.

To hear the several conversations I exchanged with friends complaining about the exact same problem and not creating any solutions.

To feel the strength of the fear sitting inside me when I decided to move. To witness the many times I almost convinced myself to stay.

To watch me cry the minute I left my NYC apartment until I rested my head on the pillow and fell asleep in my new & empty Cali apartment.

To realize that I’m just as guilty of playing victim, too. To know I struggled, because IG didn’t capture that. But it is the truth and I’m sharing that with you now.

Sharing because I want to encourage you to do the same. To leave whatever it is that’s hurting you—people, places, jobs, thoughts, beliefs—because you deserve it. Because there’s more to this life than what you’ve been choosing. 🖤

It’s not going to be easy, but it is going to be worth it.

Question Everything

Have you ever taken the time to question your beliefs? To ask where they come from? Why *you* believe them? Why you judge, reject, and resist anything that counteracts those beliefs? If those beliefs are serving you? And if they’re really even yours to begin with?

Last night over dinner, my friend and I talked about the myriad of ways one can view relationships, politics, sex, body image, and religion.

That the ideas, beliefs, and stories we hold—especially the ones from our earliest years—were given to us; some were even pushed and forced on us. By the culture we’re born into, by our caretakers, by our ancestors, by our teachers, by our friends, by the people we follow on Instagram, by the books we read and the shows we watch.

Many of us never truly acknowledge that. We just believe the things we’ve been told without exploration.

And in a lot of ways that can hurt us. It can lead to unhappiness, insecurity, suffering, closeting, and even, our demise.

To speak from my own experience, I grew up in a religious and conservative household. I was told I needed to go to college to be successful. That having sex with multiple people was a sin. That I shouldn’t cry. That identifying with anything other than straight is wrong and weird. That my worth is placed in my appearance. That I should put others first.

For a awhile, I believed them, I lived then, followed them, and I did—unfortunately—defend them.

And that was before I took the time to unpack them, to realize they’re not mine—they’re someone else’s.

And now those are all beliefs I no longer hold.

I wouldn’t be this sex-positive, body-positive, bisexual, spiritual, monogamish, emotional, ethical slut who puts herself first, if I didn’t take the time to question my own beliefs.

And I can’t stress enough the importance of that for you, too.

To sort through it all—the beliefs about your body, your worth, your religion, your political stance, your insecurities...hell, even your music preferences.

I’m not here to tell you what’s right or what’s wrong, but to remind you to question everything—including and especially the things I say.

To tell you that you get to choose.