Two mentors have forced me, thankfully, to reconsider what the fuck I’m doing (or, really, not doing enough of).
Every time a family event looms on the horizon, I’m forced into mental gymnastics: how to enjoy myself without pushing too many buttons of self-loathing.
I’ve returned to a few old haunts in the last 48 hours and they’ve reminded me that the past (despite its bad rap) can pull you forward if you give it more than a sliver of chance.
I’ve written about this shitty in-between state so many times before, haven’t I? Always so hopeful that revealing it all will help me change.
Where are models of the “neither here nor there” weight class?
My mind floods with thoughts of how much BETTER everyone around me is eating, how they’re saintly nibbling chia seeds, or “running off” their indulgences with 10ks, or going completely raw (#ugh).
Your entrée into this realm of the elite can be jarring, which is why we’ve convened to help you through it.
The belly wakes up first: it needs the most protecting. After all, this is where a kind of magic happens.
The film fails to bring on any overwhelming emotions, I think because it fails to truly connect viewers with each character if they haven’t also read the book. Despite this, there’s a worthy message at the end.