World of difference


He prayed; it wasn’t my religion

He ate; it wasn’t what I ate

He spoke; it wasn’t my language

He dressed; it wasn’t what I wore

He took my hand; it wasn’t the color of mine

But when he laughed; it was how I laughed, and when he cried; it was how I cried


Skin color


Being a good person doesn’t depend on your religion or status in your life, your race or skin color, political views or culture. It depends on how good you treat others.”

I am tired of being defined by the superficial characteristics that provide others comfort because they know which box to put me in.

I was born a certain way—and I have always believed sometimes contrary to those around me that the variety of skin shades is beautiful and something to celebrate.

The truth is, the topic of race, still makes a lot of people feel uncomfortable—they don’t want to talk about it, fearing that they may be seen as prejudiced.

But more importantly, most people don’t want to truly acknowledge their own thoughts and feelings regarding their skin color or that of others.

It makes people feel edgy, as if talking about race is wrong to do, yet discussing racial differences is the only way that we can understand one another and squash any lingering prejudice or false beliefs, once and for all.

Honestly, I haven’t ever given a lot of thought to my skin color, because I don’t see it as something that I’m proud of, but it’s also not necessarily something that I feel condemned by either.

It just is.

It seems there is and will always be a standard by which we are judged.

Do I act white?

Am I feminine enough?

Am I motherly enough?

Am I adulting well?

who I am is not defined by the color of my skin.

If I can be described by any color it’s in the flush of rosiness of my cheeks when I am excited or blushing and in the deep blues of my eyes, as they swim with desire when I am looking into the eyes of my lover.

These colors say something about who I am and what kind of heart I have.

The reality is, the depths of my soul can’t be defined by the fact my great grandparents came from Finland, Sweden, and Germany.

My soul is a collection of my dreams and the thoughts held within the private sanctions of my mind.

It’s in my desire to make the world a better place and to help as many individuals as I can.

I am unique because, regardless of skin color, there is no one else quite like me in this world.

And that is what not only truly defines who I am, but who we all are.

  1. I am not a color, and I am not a place
  2. we should accept our ethnicity despite social views
  3. History should not identify me
  4. I should not be distinguished because of my physical appearance








Nature is beautiful

And I will never believe that

earth is a wasteland

It is clear

There are endangered

Animals on this earth

Why should I care

for hunters who kill for sport

I am expressing

STOP the massacre


let them die

Trees are cut down

Plants are uprooted

HELP them


watch birds scared away from

their homes

make a difference in this world

It would not be wise to

dispose of garbage in our



prevent innocent lives from

being captured by pollution

consider yourself weak if you

pollute the air that all the living breath

care about the earth because the earth cares about you

it is a lie that you should

fling garbage on every space you walk

you should

make the earth a better place

and never say

nature is disgusting






A beautiful tragedy


The shards of glass covered the cold, icy,  black asphalt.
looking like sparkling stars strewn across the black sky.

Their brilliance catching the corner of my eye,
making me slow down, just to look at them a little longer.

In my awe of the sheer beauty of broken glass.
I couldn’t help but think,

How could someone else’s tragedy be so beautiful to me.

What to do when you are called a bitch.

Now, I don’t know about any of you, but I get called a bitch alot! So, how are you supposed to deal with this.





So, I took this test called “are you a bitch?” On this site=

This was my result “ROYAL BITCH I hate to break it to ya, but you are A BITCH! You really need to sit back and think before you act. You are inconsiderate of other people’s feelings. Yeah, it’s nice to be straight up, but you are taking things way to far. Calm down and quit being defensive. Be open to people’s suggestions and try talking to other people besides only your closest friends.”

Well, not sure how to respond to that

I agree I normally don’t think before I act, but I do think I am considerate of other people’s feelings. I do need to learn to calm down and not be defensive. But, I don’t like talking to other people because of my anxiety.

So, we have my results, now what do we do about it.

Not being interested in someone, standing up for yourself, or being a strong woman does not make you a bitch. Women get called bitches for the most absurd reasons so if someone calls you a bitch, here are some responses:

  1. take it as a compliment
  2. Use your inner feminist  “bitches get stuff done!”
  3. Say “oh burn!”
  4. Ask what they would like you to do about it.
  5. Be sassy “do I get a bonus point if I act like I care?”
  6. Let them know that A strong woman is not a bitch, but I guess you didn’t learn that in school.
  7. Don’t let them mistake your honesty for bitchiness
  8. Say thank you it disarms them
  9. Say “deal with it”
  10. Spell it out. B.i.t.c.h. beautiful,  intelligent,  talented,  charming, and hot
  11. Take back the word ” I’m not a bitch, I’m the bitch. And to you I am ms. Bitch”
  12. Call them out ” oh please. You guys love me. I’m hilarious and I keep it real”

Or just ignore it.

Now, this post is made to be funny and everything, but let’s not lie to ourselfs. It’s hard to not get upset when you are being called a bitch.

My baby boys birth story




Well, giving birth is nothing like I would have expected.

I had a very stressful day.

We had a big rain storm during the day, and the roof in the pantry decided it wanted to start leaking.

By the time me and my boyfriend found this out, a lot of out food (pasta, rice, etc.) was damaged.

I was an emotional wreak.

My boyfriend kicked me out of the house so he could clean it up.

I went to my parents and cried at my moms, while thinking “man these braxton hicks contractions are getting bad”

By the time I went back home, three hours later, by boyfriend made me call labor and delivery and they told me to come in.

When I was in the process of packing my bag, my water broke. Looks like the baby is coming!

We went to the hospital at 11:00 p.m and i started the paper work and got all hooked up to I’vs.

The pain was getting so intense, I felt like my pelvic bone was breaking.

I got some pain medication and tired to sleep, when we realized that the baby was passing his first poop already.

I finally was dilated to a five, and I got the epidural.

Then his heart rate was dropping with every contraction, so they had to do an emergence c-section.

At this point I was having labor shakes, and I had to be held down during the c-section.

It felt so weird. I was being pulled and tugged, and I had my boyfriend tell me everything that was happening.

When I heard his first cry at 10:20 a.m I started crying. My boyfriend told me that the baby had hair, and he was the most perfect thing he had ever seen.

I fell in love with my new family instantly.

My baby is now 2 weeks old, and let me tell you it has not been easy.

We are all trying to get into the swing of things, but one thing is for sure- we love each other to the moon and back!