Share and Try Not to Care...Too Much

        I want to write about how I believed myself to be beautiful when younger, and how much I struggle to now.   I didn't dwell on my deviated septum when I was a kid. Hell, I don't even think I knew I had one until high school. I loved taking pictures of myself, regardless of if I had makeup on or had styled my hair. I wore pajamas, dance costumes, and matching sweatsuits on any given day because I felt cute and comfortable in them. I was unconcerned with the terms "muffin top" or "love handles," and couldn't tell you the difference between a scissor and a flutter kick. I watched TV shows and movies that starred gorgeous actresses, but I identified with their spirit before ever considering comparing my appearance. I am trying to find my way back to that internal knowing of my worth.  Wet hair, pajamas that barely cover my burgeoning belly, and a pool stick positioned in the most unfortunate place it could be. Ah yes, that's the Libby I reco

    I always thought time would slow down after I graduated, and that I'd be sulking in boredom over the glacial speed my days occurred at. Boy, was I wrong😳. It has been nine months since I left school, and saying that makes me queasy. On the one hand, I am proud to say that in those nine months I have still found ways to participate in the world and seek out my passions. However, there's so much that feels up in the air about who I am and where I'm headed. I guess nearly a year seemed like enough time for me to get this adulthood shit together.     Enough . Oof, can't tell you how many times I agonize over that word. We live in a society that has developed this hustle mentality, and if one isn't utilizing the majority of their time toward their personal and professional goals, they ought to be doused in guilt. Unsurprisingly, I did leave college believing that my self-worth was tied to my productivity; nine months, and I'm still struggling to throw that beli