The Rising of Me (and You)

I don’t believe my journey of life really started until I was fourteen.  Of course I still was living from ages 0 to 13 but they were more of passing periods.  Two minutes of running into people, getting lost, and dropping books.

The summer of fourteen.  Week after week of pushing myself to do things I did not want to.  Going out with those who had no intention of keeping me.  Wearing clothes that made me feel like I was part of a show.  Acting as if I was someone else.  Clothing that was made for someone unlike me.  At fourteen I was uncomfortable in my own skin. At fourteen I was as fake as a barbie doll. Balancing only on my tip toes. 

Fourteen.  An age in which I felt I started believing I was a sad story.
At fourteen I starting the process of becoming a woman.  At fourteen I conformed into someone I was not.  At fourteen I began to believe my high school life would be surrounded by a group of best friends, boys, and adventures.  At fourteen I hung out with people who belittled me into becoming less of myself and becoming more like them.  At fourteen I began seeing my body as a lump that no one would ever want.  Then at fourteen I was diagnosed with chronic social anxiety and depression.  At fourteen I thought that me being nervous was just a normal way of living.

The summer of fifteen. Week after week of telling people I was sick, I was busy, I was with my family. I did not want to party. I was too scared. The children there were so big. Everyone is loud. I don’t even know these people and the drinks taste like poison on my tongue.  I did not want to hangout with people every single day of my life. At fifteen I felt all was too much. At fifteen I started losing balance. Balancing on one foot.

Fifteen.  That’s it, I am a sad story. At fifteen the friends I thought would stay with me for a lifetime decided they did not want me, as if I was their toy. A toy in which they kept around but decided to throw out when they were finished. At fifteen they told everyone around them to not speak to me. They told lies about me so it looked like I was just another part of the hatred in the world. At fifteen everyone I had talked to, went away. At fifteen no one knew me as I was. At fifteen my anxiety got higher and higher. At fifteen I became that kid in class that wouldn’t speak, that wouldn’t want to sit in front. At fifteen I was the kid that people called, “weird” “loser” “emo.” At fifteen I could not bare to talk to more than two people in school. I stayed in my bubble until I felt as though everything was too much. At fifteen I decided I did not have anxiety.  No. I told myself I was fine.

The summer of sixteen. Week after week I only stayed with my family. I did not want to see anyone. I did not want to go out near my house. I wanted to go far away. At sixteen I got so nervous to just sit outside, nervous to go on a walk. At sixteen I started losing the light. No balance to be found.

Sixteen.  I am not just a sad story, I am a bad dream. At sixteen I began withering away. At sixteen I lost my aunt. At sixteen I lost my grandpa. At sixteen I lost one who I call cousin at only seven years old. I was lonely, sad. At sixteen I could not understand why I did not feel loved. At sixteen I doubted life. Why did people die when so many loved them? Why did I live, rather than one of them? I could not take it. At sixteen me, myself felt as though I was guilty. At sixteen I could not get out of bed. At sixteen I found that pain takes the numbness away. At sixteen I was put into a partial hospitalization program.

Seventeen.  I am no sad story or bad dream. At seventeen I was discharged from the hospital. At seventeen I asked, “What’s next?” At seventeen I decided I was going to rise. I decided that as before my rising was not to an eternal life but of living on this earth. A rising in which only I can overcome with. At seventeen I realized the love that surrounded me. The hands and arms of my parents were there. At seventeen I found that I needed to start loving more. Loving of myself more. At seventeen the darkness started fading. The balance regaining.

I have gained beauty. It seeps through my veins, through my bloodstream. It slides into my bed each night and rises each morning. It is covered in lavender oil and sunflowers. The sun shining through my pores making each day become a new. Shining the light so others feel and see it too. I am no sad story. I am a story of love, I am a story of power. I am a story of light and strength. My journey has just begun. I will now not ever let it go. I will continue to rise just as sunflowers do to the sky.

-The Rising

Rise with me.



Beautiful Mistakes

I was sent to a hospitalization program because I was needing perfection.  I was not perfect.  I didn’t think I was pretty.  I didn’t think I was kind.  I don’t look like the girls in magazines or the girls on T.V. My high school experience was not like an episode of That 70s Show. My life is not a romantic comedy.  It is a drama.  Filled with ups and downs.  Scenes that were not expected.  I did not plan on me being the opposite of perfection.  You can’t plan on how life goes. But what I didn’t know was that I never needed to be perfect.  I do not ever want to be different from who I am.  Perfection is a lie that is only true when people are faking it.

I made myself hate myself.  Burden myself with the imperfections of life.  Of me.  The pimples on my face.  The grades that I didn’t have.  The times I get sad or mad.  The rolls I have.  Hating myself for eating a cheeseburger from Mcdonalds.  Hating myself for not helping my grandpa enough when he was sick.

The thing is, I cannot change my life.  I am a hormonal teenage girl, I will break out.  Get over it.  Just because geometry makes no sense to me does not mean I can’t be the president one day.  NO ONE can be happy every single day and every single moment.  It is healthy to be sad sometimes.  It is healthy to be mad sometimes.  It is okay.  I am not sorry for the rolls on my body or how much I eat or don’t eat.  In the end I AM beautiful, even if I still struggle to see it. I am no doctor.  I could not cure the cancer my grandpa had.  I did what I could do and that was sit and spend time with him.

Life is unpredictable.  You cannot expect all things in life.  Perfection is impossible.  Do not self-loath because you do not think you are no enough. For you completely are.  Be imperfect.  Make mistakes.  Learn.  Live.  Life changes in seconds.  You cannot control everything.



To Be Influenced

Me being the crazy person I am, I know the trends of today like the back of my hand.  The trending hashtags.  The trendy words or phrases to say.  The trendy ways to act.  The trendy people.  We are all surrounded by them 24/7 on social media.  My question is always, am I being myself or am I acting the way people want me to be?

The truth is, I tend to act a certain way when I feel far from who I am.  In life today, we are connected to so many different people.  Whether we follow famous celebrities, YouTubers, or friends, we are impacted by each and every one of them. Growing up I never thought that I would turn into or act as someone I am not.  I have always been pretty set in my ways and in who I am, so I figured no one can change that.  But lately I have noticed that I get influenced by people every single day.

Being influenced by people can be such an amazing thing, like if you get inspired by someone.  But if you end up wanting to act like them or turn into them, then that is where influence turns bad.

Many influencers of my generation today are not true influencers.  For example, the Kardashians/Jenners.  The amount of children that look up to people like them is sad.

I have always looked up to singers like Stevie Nicks and Janis Joplin.  Wanting to dress the same or act the same.  But when I really think about it, do I really want to act the same as someone who died so young from drugs?  Not really.  Do I love them? Yes.  But I do not have to be the same as them.

You do not have to change yourself because you feel that someone you adore is who you want to be.  You are you.  There is no possible way to change that.  So next time you see an Instagram Kendal Jenner posted of her modeling and think to yourself, “I am gonna lose weight so I can look like her.”  STOP.  Look at yourself in the mirror.  And pose how you would pose.  You are the only person that is you in the world.  And I am sure there are people who would wish to be you because you are just as unique as each face on this earth.



Poems of My Soul

Throughout my time in the partial hospitalization program, I wrote poetry.  It was grounding.  It helped me put how I feel into words.  I decided that I was going to share the feelings I had then versus the feelings I have now.  My poetry journal became a sea of poems that when from dark to light.  I hope whoever is reading this finds the light I see.


I sat in the chair
of my therapist’s room
my mother sitting next to me
“do you have any dark thoughts?”
my therapists interrupted the silence
I looked at mom with ocean like waves falling from my dark eyes
I grabbed her hand”

– yes


“the sun laughs
as she hides beneath the clouds
yet I still cry
at the grey of the sky”

– please shine

“we learn
to ice bruises
we get on our skin
but how do we fix
the bruises
on our hearts”

– black and blue


“I am a storm and a rainbow at the same time
beautiful but confusing
necessary for growth
but hard to travel through
I have realized
the colorful glow
after lightning hits”


“I am picking up the shards of glass
and putting them into their right form
for I am fixing my own self
rather than letting others do so”

-self care

“I just do not know how to talk to Skyla anymore”
my name has not been changed
my laughter is the same tone
why do you not want to hear
my high-pitched giggles
my heart is the same
my soul is the same
why do you not want to see them
my heart and soul shines more than ever
I am the same
just not as torn apart”

-I am not broken

I learned that I was never broken.  That the darkness doesn’t last.  So when you feel like you are shattering into pieces, remember you aren’t.  You are strong and put together perfectly.



I Want to Live

If you know me, you know how worried I get when people say “kms.”  It is a term that is used too often that I do not think people even realize the hardness of those words put together. “Kill myself.”

Me, being a seventeen year old girl growing up in this crazy society, I am on twitter constantly.  Twitter honestly has the funniest/stupid things in the whole world.  But that is the exact reason I go on it.  For the funny videos or tweets.  As I go along my feed waiting to find the hilarious conversations that go on.  There are always tweets that I would never want to see.

On twitter, it is trendy to hate on yourself and joke about how if you do not have perfect skin and a skinny body you are just going to “kms lol.”  This is a trend I wish the world would see as soul killing.  It is so normalized to joke about killing yourself, yet the world cannot handle when someone does.  Thinking it is selfish and ridiculous.

I get so confused every time someone says this.  I have been there.  I have actually wanted to “kms” so when I see this will “lol” in front of it, it makes my heart-break into a million pieces.

Believe me, I am a person who has tweeted something negative about myself.  But with you guys, I am going to challenge myself to focus on the positive.  Instead of saying “kms” lets say we want to live.  With everything wrong with our lives.  At least we are still alive.  Instead of saying how ugly we are lets talk about how beautiful the world is.  Lets take on a revolution.  A revolution of radical living.  Radical together.



My World Right Now

Lately I have been struggling.  I have been trying so hard to not end up in the place I have been before.  But one day this past week, I was almost there again.  Instead of doing all of the things I have learned through my journey, I sulked.  I scared myself and allowed myself to be dragged further into this darkness on my own.  I was petrified.

The day after I was down, I had a doctor’s appointment.  I was so mortified by the feelings I had the night before that I did not think I could get through without more help.  I met with my therapist and we discussed whether or not I need more support.

Today, Sunday, I realized something.  I was not taking my own advice.  Every week I write words for all to hear thinking I will help those who feel just like me.  Yet I do not take this upon myself.  I do not act on what I say.  Every week I try to be my most authentic self on here.  Writing what is true.  What I believe.

I have been pushing myself everyday.  Going places alone, talking to audiences alone, meeting new people, getting a job.  I never would be able to do these things if I was truly struggling like I have in the past.  I have been soaking in that one bad day instead of seeing how much I have done to strengthen all I am.

I am not that one bad day.  I am not that night when I felt the darkness.  Everyday is a new day.  And everyday will not be sunshine.  Some days will be storms.  With lighting and rain.  But it is okay to have different types of days.  It is okay to have a bad day.  And if you cannot pull yourself out of that day, getting help is okay.  Do not punish yourself for getting the strength. But each day is a new sun.  A new essence.  I will not let one day ruin the rest of my days to come.  I am here for a reason.  I am here to bring light in the world.  So I will believe in what I can do.  I will believe in the strength I have.  The power.  I will not fall into my one weakness.  For I am more powerful than it ever will be.



The World of Social Media

I remember the first time I posted an Instagram picture. It was a quote from Marilyn Monroe. “Imperfect is beauty, madness is genius and it’s better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring.” After I posted that picture I immediately wanted to post another one and another and another. But my friends told me that I could not post more than one a day.

Ever since the day I got part of the social media world, there were rules you had to follow in order to have people like you. “Post at night to get the most likes.” “If you do not get a lot of likes just delete it.”

One day a couple years later, I posted two pictures in one day. I got ridiculed for something as dumb as putting a picture that I loved on my own page. Many times I would get nervous to post a picture on social media because I didn’t know if it was “insta worthy” or if people would not like it. If people would make fun of me. FOR ONE PICTURE. I would get myself so worked up over a simple task. I cared so much about what others thought that I could not make social media my own world. It was adding to all the anxiety I already had.

When I finally realized that I was getting controlled by the internet, I stopped caring. People are not their posts. Their usernames. They are real people. I post as much as I want. As much as I feel. I post whenever I want. I post whatever I want. And the world is still turning.

YOU DO NOT have to be someone different on social media. You do not have to hide your true self when others are looking. No one is as happy as they look on social media. There is always more to the story.

So look beyond the screen. Use what we have for good. For creating. For art. Social media is not the real world. So make it your own. Be true. Be you. And if people don’t like what you post, then they don’t need to be your follower. Remember you are the one in control. Do not let social media control you. Do not let others take away your soul. Especially online.