I’ve been skirting the edges of the blogosphere (Should I even be using that word? It’s gross.) for a while now, perusing everything from fashion and lifestyle blogs to more personal accounts of peoples’ day-to-day lives. What I’ve learned is that: 1. Personal blogs are full of #whitepeopleproblems and reiterations of obsessions with the same pop culture. 2. Lifestyle/fashion/design blogs are full of people who make their own personal lives look so perfect that you’re hating yourself in the privacy of your own Internet – all with relatively little in the middle (but she got much back – had to).

The point I’m trying to make here is that while life is far from perfect, it’s exactly what you make of it. And even though I err on the snarkier side of eternal optimism, and I like to use this blog as a way to challenge myself and others to make life better, it certainly doesn’t mean that my life is picture perfect. I don’t always identify without the more melancholy blog posts and abhor any person who uses the abbreviation FML - if it’s that bad, why are you on Facebook? Just go kill yourself. But the ones that are honest admissions of human insecurities always resonate with me, comfort me and remind me that we’re never alone.

Without further ado…my everyday anxieties, pitfalls and #whitepeopleproblems:

1. The mortality of my loved ones. I have several very rational fears (birds, namely) and I don’t count this one among them, the only thing certain in life is death - let’s be real, taxes are optional*. But I’m afraid of losing those that I care about and, more specifically, afraid of losing them without them knowing the love that’s in my heart. My husband won’t let me watch Marley and Me, if that gives you any indication of the severity and I experience daily waves of guilt and restlessness if I think, for a second, that someone I love may feel otherwise.

2. Driving. I’m a really good driver, with only one ticket and one minor accident to my name, but was the victim of another element-related accident about 5 years ago. It happened during an especially tumultuous time in my life and has since perpetuated feelings of wild anxiety whenever I sit behind the wheel. I force myself to drive because I’m a grown-up, damnit, but I never do it without my cell phone handy and I rarely offer to drive. I am; however, an awesome co-pilot, always ready with directions, conversation and Skittles.

3. “Friends.” I’ve talked before about my innate inability to stand up for myself and my continued fight for respect to and from everyone, but it still weighs on me. At 28, should I really be “trying” so hard with everyone? And now, as I attempt to navigate a social scene in a brand new city, I’m missing the few true friends I do have. If you see someone at work or the gym who you know is new to an area, treat them to a drink - they may be your best friend. 

4. My appearance and body. Let’s be clear about one thing - I am NOT complaining. I know that I’m incredibly lucky to have great health and a naturally thin physique. That does not mean that I feel good about myself very often. Rarely, as a matter of fact. When I moved to Florida I noticed how confident all the girls who went to high school down South are and, consequently, how modest the Midwest truly is. While I’m not sure I admire their inflated self esteem, I don’t doubt that it comes in handy and makes life better. And I ain’t getting any younger, so I should just enjoy what I’ve got now instead of berating myself at every mirrored turn.

5. I am irresponsible, impatient and disorganized. *I actually said taxes were optional. In other words, I’d lose my not-attractive-enough-head if it weren’t attached to the aforementioned hated body of mine. This may sound silly to some of you and, SOMEHOW, my husband handles it with grace, patience and love – but without him I would have no idea how much money I have at any given time, where my keys are, where my ID is and what I need to do/buy/submit/file in order to be an adult. I mean, who else’s license trip took two tries to get it right? It’s a constant struggle and though I try to fight it, I never seem to win.

There they is, kids. There’s really no lesson, no 30 days to a happier you, no creative spin here – just some honesty and a little vulnerability to remind you that the sooner you stop trying to achieve perfection, the easier it is to enjoy every little thing.