part two.

you know what’s so wild?
I talk a lot about body positivity and inclusivity.
I’m the first one to shout at my friends if they begin
to talk about themselves negatively.
I beg customers to try on those “risqué” pieces.
But it’s all shit, man.

I’ve become really comfortable showing off parts of my body that I like. I’ve never feared showing my arms, which too, are large and in charge.  My thighs have never bothered me and these are some clappers, my friends.  There are more chins in this bed currently, than there are girls named Kristen.
And I don’t really give a fuck about any of that.

And with showing off these parts of my body, I’ve been told that it’s inspirational. That people have seen my size 26 body in a bralette and skirt in public and were “moved.” And that’s dope, truly it is.

I’ll whip a tit out in a second. Sorry, mom and dad. But when you find something about yourself appealing, it’s pretty normal to show it off. I’ve learned to love my hips, so I’ll wear more structured pieces that flatter them, because goddamn they’ve been through some shit and deserve some love too.

But there’s parts that I hate. Despite everything. I hate my stomach. And what I call, my cutlets, aka my under arm side boob waterfall of chub.

shocker here, but if you didn’t know, I work in a clothing store and have studied and worked retail since I was 16. A wee child, ya know. And where I work now makes me feel so confident. I wear things I love because I fucking can, and there’s nothing but support. I help style and dress all types of people, and have for a while, in many different jobs.

I’m learning to embrace myself day by day, and that includes my stomach. Styling clothes on others is easy. I’ll wear a crop top in a heartbeat, but there was always something about wearing high waisted jeans that terrified me. The other day I literally woke up thinking of this outfit that would be so cute, and almost immediately changed my mind, because in my head, my shirt would be tucked in, and that was a no from me fam.

But I did it. And no one laughed. No one said anything. No one pointed. Buildings didn’t fall and children didn’t run away in fear. A mind fuck, indeed.

I chose a paid of distressed high waisted old navy rockstar skinnies (which, quick note to the big bitches reading this, are so so good) with an off the shoulder cotton swing top from torrid, some gold hoops and sling back pointed toe ballet flats. I felt like a bad bitch, let me tell ya.

I know this is ramble-y, but it’s so freeing doing something that scares the shit out of you. Wear a print or a neon for God’s sake. You won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, but be your own, add some sugar, and call it a day. It’s lovely.

So I conquered the stomach fear, kind of maybe, a little.
And maybe you’ll pick a piece that makes you nervous, and love it too.

Wear what makes you happy, even if society is telling you something different.
And just embrace it.


All my love,
K.

embrace me

I’ve realized recently, after hearing the cliche for many many years, that it is impossible to love someone, until you love yourself. In the last year, I’ve felt the furthest from my “self” that I’ve ever been. I stopped loving. I stopped caring. I stopped feeling. And that fucking terrified me.

I remember hearing girls in elementary school talking about me. And I remember having to be on the defense all of the time. In middle school, I learned that if you made jokes about yourself first, the ones that others made about you, didn’t hit as well. So I started cracking jokes about my weight. Being the funny fat girl was a role I played. When you make people laugh about something else, they’re laughing with you, and not at you, and that saved me, somewhat.

Bullying was a fucking bitch. I don’t talk about it often, but it completely changed me, and formed me into the person I am today. I had pictures of pigs put in my locker. I had groups of girls, (who to this day like my pictures on social media and comment “yes queen”) mock me at parties, online, and in class.I remember being in high school, and specifically having a very popular, athletic, attractive boy, message me on AIM. He asked me if at a pool party, he could “grab my ass” because he thought I was pretty. I never felt pretty, and I remember taking this as a huge compliment. Turned out, in a shocking turn of events, that he showed this to all of his friends, and it became a huge joke among groups of friends, whom I avoided for the rest of my time on Long Island.

As a 26 year old, single, plus size girl, I’m tired of being the funny girl. Laughter is medication, but laughter, as I mentioned before, is also a building block to a wall that we surround ourselves with when we’re afraid of reality. I’ve worked in retail for a very long time, and see day to day that women like me aren’t portrayed in media, in stores, in movies, unless we’re funny. Think of all of the big bitches who actually make it. They’re not serious reformers. They’re comedians.

I follow incredible women on social media who are not afraid to show themselves in bikinis, in underwear, or even nude, and I envy them every fucking day. Because every fucking day, I strive for the confidence to feel THAT beautiful in my own skin. I believe that I have the same right as a woman who weighs 140 lbs to wear whatever the hell I want, and feel good as I wear it. It shouldn’t be considered “brave”to wear a bathing suit, or a pencil skirt, or to show your arms or your stomach.

I haven’t written anything in a very long time because I had nothing to say. I felt like I had said it all already. The “love yourself body posi bitch” went away for a while and didn’t leave her bed. And I missed her. I lost a great love, and lost myself when it happened. And I wanted to be her again. So I fucking did. You’re not a slut if you post something on the internet that isn’t the norm.

So I got out of bed, propped up my iPhone, and took a picture of myself in my panties. And I stared at it for three days before I put it on social media. I stared at my rolls, my cellulite, my split ends, and then I posted it. I fought to be her. I’ve been through my darkest days. Let’s just say I’ve seen some shit. And when I looked at that picture, I didn’t feel angry anymore. I stared at the line of the curve of  my hip and I felt beautiful, for the first time, without having to have someone say it first. I embraced it. And that shits wild.

I’m writing because I missed it. Because I finally felt like I could stand behind myself and the words I was saying. I believe that at any size, you should be able to stand in a mirror naked and think “I’m that bitch.” Any gender, any body type,  any race, any disability, any sexual orientation, any human fucking being, should be able to feel love for themselves.

Thank you to anyone who has stuck around, reached out, and came the fuck through for me this past year. I’m happy to finally be in a place where I feel comfortable doing something I love again.

Go out; wear what the fuck you want, show off your skin, and enjoy.

All of my love always,
Kristen.

brain dumping.

I don’t know how to even start this post.
It’s 2:15 in the morning, and once again I cant sleep.
So, here we go.

The last three months of have completely changed me.
I no longer know what I want to do, or who I want to be.
Everything has changed.
I feel like I’m on a trip that won’t end.
I feel like I’ve lost my mind, along with just about everything else.
And anything that hasn’t gone, I’ve pushed away.

I no longer believe in a lot of things I clung to for a long time.
The ounce of body image pride I have in me is absolutely fucking wrecked.
I have no idea if I’m ready to take on a major surgery.

Everyone I’ve talked to about this, just tells me I’m making excuses.
Which, to an extent, probably.
But for fucks sake.
How am I supposed to pull of this huge life changing event,
when I can’t get out of bed in the morning?
When I’m forcing myself to see my friends.
And call my family.
And tell them I’m okay.
And that this will take time.

Because I feel like I’ve fucked up everything.
I watched people and opportunity,
walk out of my life.

My brain has imploded.
How much can a girl take,
I mean seriously, damn.

I feel like nothing is real anymore.
I don’t find excitement in things I used to.
It takes every ounce of me to get dressed for work.
And just about everything else to actually get out of the car.

I’m writing this because I need to.
Because if I keep this shit bottled up any longer, I’ll lose it.
And I know I’m not the only one who goes through this,
So maybe you’ll find comfort in not feeling alone.

I also need to say thank you.
And I’m sorry.
For pushing you away.
To some of the most amazing support system I could ever have.
Thank you for listening to me, when I know you’re tired of it.
Drunk, crying, screaming, and not talking at all.
I thank you.


I don’t know what else to say.

“Insatiable” preview thoughts

Hi y’all,

I just need to vent about something, and this is probably the best way to do it.

I keep seeing advertisements for the upcoming Netflix series titled “Insatiable,” and they’ve made me so furious. I’m not the type of person to bash on a tv series, because honestly I don’t watch a lot of series. It’s not my thing to binge watch a show unless is truly catches my eye. But this, disgusting misrepresentation of a plus sized girl is actually appalling.

If you haven’t seen it, search for it on YouTube to get the full understanding of where I’m coming from. Within the first 30 seconds of the preview, the main character appears, a blonde, clearly “fat suited” girl, by the name of patty. And apparently, everyone hates her, makes fun of her, and has nicknamed herself “fatty patty.” It’s mentioned that “while all the people in high school were losing their virginity, she was stuffing another hole.”

With that comes my first point. The message that this is basically conveying, is that if you’re fat, people will not find you sexually attractive, and therefore you’ll be alone unless you fit into societies idea of what “attractive” is. Also, it makes the point that plus sized people just sit and shove their gullets with food, and do nothing else with their time. Lovely Netflix, great message.

Moving along into the next minute...
Instilling the idea that “not eating for a few months” will make you lose all of your excess weight and become beautiful. This actually made me really upset. Now, for one thing, the main character gets punched in the fucking mouth and has her jaw wired shut, and can’t eat. But this message is so dangerous, especially to younger guys and girls. “Just don’t eat, and you’ll become hot and everyone will like you” is essentially what’s being told her. Is this a fucking joke? Are you trying to trigger eating disorders? I can’t even count the amount of times in my life I’ve thought of just stopping eating to lose weight. This is incredibly unhealthy to portray.

And then...

“Patty” ponders at her desk, and tries to decide who she wants to be in her new image...choosing between “the brain, the jock, or the princess.” Like no plus size girl has ever been smart, athletic, or the star of the show. It just doesn’t make sense to me that in 2018 this is the type of smut that directors are coming up with.

But right at the end, they just sew it all up into a revenge plot. Like that’s a wonderful idea. Tell all the girls who watch this that once they’ve achieved level “pretty and skinny” to go fight other girls and set people on fire. Makes sense in a world where 15 year olds are walking into high schools with automatic weapons and wiping out their classmates. Great idea.


The thing that really bothers me about this whole fucking this, is that the actress...”patty” in the beginning, is wearing a fucking fat suit. I know the character has to stay the same facial wise, but really? You couldn’t have hired a different actress? Two different girls to portray the same role? Is been done a thousand times, but okay whatever.


I know this was long winded, but it’s been on my mind for a few days and I had to say SOMETHING. it’s fucking gross and disgusting that in a social media frenzied world where we’re all trying our best to love ourselves, this nonsense comes out. “Dark humor” is right.

What are your thoughts? Let me know

Until then,
K.

Nothing.

I hadn't slept.
I packed my bag.
A sheet, sunscreen,
a water bottle,
and headphones.
That was all I needed.
Simple.

I couldn't look at myself.
Hungover.
I locked the door.
I slid the key under the mat.
Longing.

It was 4:30am.
That didn't matter.
The road was empty.
So was I.

I played the same song.
It had no words.
For three hours.
Its a minute and a half long.
It was the only thing,
that made sense.
Nothing.

I don't remember driving.
I wasn't in my body.
I stopped when the land did.
Gone.

I walked and watched.
Lovers walking and holding hands.
Devastated.

I laid my sheet down.
I stared at the sea.
For three more hours.
I walked in the ocean.
Cold.

I burned.
The waves crashed.
But still I felt nothing.
And it felt like home.
So far away.
800 miles.

Life is so fucked up.
Love is so fucked up.
Yet here I am.
Living.
Alive.

And i feel nothing.

Reflecting on deflecting.

Hello lovelies,

I kind of wanted to talk about something today I've never really admitted or spoken out about. I've been thinking a lot about it and maybe someone else has felt the same way, so here I go.

I was asked recently about how old I was when I started doing my "winged liner." If you know me, I've done a bold liquid eyeliner wing for a super long time. It's become part of what I like to think is my signature look, along with my hair. I was probably 12 or 13. I don't particularly remember a specific age when I began really getting into makeup. But I had a TON of it in jr. high and high school.

Thinking about it now, I never admitted it to myself, but those things are what deflected peoples attention from the fact that I was, and am still fat. I always thought that if my hair and makeup were perfect, I was somehow not just the "fat" girl. If I wore cute clothes and stayed in style with the popular girls, even though I could never fit in the stores they shopped, I knew I'd be golden.

I knew that if I was funny, and made jokes about myself before other people said mean things, they'd be less inclined to say them at/in front of me.

Going through this journey has opened my eyes to a lot of small things I've done subconsciously to try to steer peoples attention away from my stomach, my arms, my hips, anything really. I remember crying  and begging my mom to take me to CVS before school because my hair straightner broke and I refused to let my hair look bad.

Makes sense, right?
Well, to me it did, and still, sometimes, does.
Simply because, people are so shallow, that it makes it easy to deflect someones attention from one flaw to something I saw as "better."

I'm just sort of embracing the "carefree" kind of aspect of life now. When it comes down to it, if you're a shitty person, I don't want you anywhere near me. A bad heart is very clear to see quickly.

Cheers to throwing garbage people out and leaving them in 2017.

Thank you to everyone for all of the love and support lately.
Yall mean the world to me.

xo, K.

Self love.

Hello lovelies,

What a month it’s been. Happy spring everyone! I hope the weather is more stable by you than it is here in charlotte ( I honestly think mother nature’s anxiety has been worse than mine lately). 

I just wanted to come do a little update on what’s been going on with me recently. I know a lot of you follow me on other social media’s, but if you don’t, or just felt like reading, I’m back y’all.

So this month really kicked off my Vertical Sleeve Gastroectomy prerequisites. I visited my nutritionist for the first time, and have been in the full swing of my new diet. Not only is the diet very hard for me, but I’ve come to realize how addicted to food I truly am. I’ve quit smoking, with help from a Juul vape which makes me look like I’m 18 again, and that was a mindfuck in itself. But honestly, was not that hard compared to giving up soda and junk food. Hearing the surgeon tell me that I could be dead by 40 if I continued living the lifestyle I was leading absolutely shocked me. 

I’ve come so far from where I was when I was in high school in the “body image department.” I didn’t realize that “treating yo self” and “binging” are two totally different things. It’s all well and good to have a treat once in a while, because if you don’t, you might just lose your mind. But I got to the point where I was eating shit food every single day, and a lot of it at that, because I felt like I was allowed. And that’s what caused me to get to this point. 

I’ve been asked a lot recently “why” im doing this surgery, or why I’m choosing to post so actively on social media about it. Honestly, I know I’m not alone in this journey. It’s a journey of self love and learning to better myself. I’ve realized that so many people think that getting this WLS is about hating your body, but that’s not true at all for me. I’ve learned to love myself over the last five years so much more than I ever had before, and I decided it was time to prove it. To me. For me. I want to live a long time. I want to travel the world and not worry about having to buy two plane seats, or breaking chairs, or fitting on roller coasters. It’s very simple. And this surgery is just a tool to help me get there.

I’ve made an Instagram (kristenvsgjourney) entirely to document this process because I don’t want to inundate everyone with “diet” related posts because for real, it can be exhausting. And so many of y’all have been so supportive already, so thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Here’s to a new month, and a new me.

Love always,

K.

25.

Happy end of February everyone

So here I am, once again, at two o’clock in the morning, spilling my guts onto my phone, and out to whoever may read this. I posted it on my Twitter before, but a thread can only be so long before you roll your eyes. So, luckily for y’all, you clicked on this, hopefully prepared for a bit of a rant. 

Yesterday, February 24th 2018, was my 25th birthday. Crazy, right? A couple of my closest friends and I decided to go out to celebrate at a bar where I spent 95% of my money, and some of my parents money too, in college (I’m sorry mom). These girls are my family here. We are thick as thieves. I would do anything for them. And I am so blessed to have been able to spend my night with them.

A bit of pretext here for those who I don’t see very often. I am very focused on getting my life in order lately. I don’t go out often. Before last night, I hadn’t had more than two drinks in probably a year. It’s just not my scene anymore. My anxiety combined with the fact that my days off are spent sleeping, kind of stops me from bar hopping. I was excited to get dolled up and go out to my old stomping grounds. 

I decided to do my hair and makeup before I picked an outfit. I felt like 12 million bucks. I called Brandon about seven times during that whole process to show him. My makeup looked bomb as fuck, and my hair was making me feel some type of way. You couldn’t have told me anything. I was on top of the world. Until I walked into my closet. My go to outfit is a pencil skirt with some type of top tucked in. Always has been, because my body is shaped like a blown up hourglass. I went directly for the skirt. And next, I reached into my underwear drawer, and I felt my entire disposition change. My spanx weren’t there. I tore my closet apart. 

I felt my chest get heavy, and I pulled every piece of underwear out of the drawer, and the shirts out of the next, and so on and so forth. I started to tear up. I had just put lashes on, I knew I couldn’t waste them. That’s logic, right? I went in, touched up my eyeliner, and then continued searching for them. I still have no idea where they could be. In the meantime, I went into Jacki a room while she was picking out an outfit. I don’t think she knew how badly I was panicking, but she always makes me laugh. She was picking at herself in the mirror, just how I was minutes prior. I listened to words pour out of my mouth about how tonight we were going to be strong, and brave, and wear what we wanted. And she put on an outfit that looked incredible on her. She is so beautiful. I put the pencil skirt on, and we went off to celebrate. 

I went to the bathroom four times to make sure my stomach wasn’t hanging out, or that the makeshift spanx I created weren’t creating lines. I tugged and pulled and twisted until I was drunk enough that I forgot to look. And the final time I looked in the mirror, I was 17 again. Hating everything about myself. Hearing the girls in gym make fun of me for trying too hard. I had to pretend to be in a stall so I could breathe for a second because I swear the air was not in my lungs anymore. 

We had a great time. My friends and I danced and joked and stayed out late, and at the end of the night we all hugged, said our I love yous, and went home. I stayed in my room until four o’clock today. I couldn’t pull myself out of bed, except to vomit, and wash my face. 

Anxiety got the best of my night, but it will not ruin the memories I made yesterday, and it will not ruin me, or my friends.

I know, I fucking know that someone, somewhere, has felt this way before. And I guess the reason I’m writing this tonight is to tell you that you are not alone. We are in this together. I will stand before you and behind you. We will beat this. 

Cheers to that 17 year old girl who didn’t think she’d make it, and to the girl who turned 25 yesterday. And to you. 

All of my love,

K.

New skincare find!

Hi lovelies,

Just a quick little post about a product I purchased and instantly fell in love with. I went to Walgreens to get some eye drops, and of course wandered through the beauty and skincare section.

They had a ton of different face masks, but I just wanted something simple that would cleanse my skin while it was actually behaving. Winter has been good to my skin aside from a bit of dryness, but that’s nothing a little moisturizer cant fix. 

I picked up the L’Oreal Pure Clay Cleanser, and tried it this afternoon. The thing that intrigued me about it was that it said it was a detoxing brightening cleanser, and not essentially a mask. I put a bit in my hands and added a bit of water before applying to my face. It set on my face like a mask, but when I added water it turned into a creamy mousse cleanser. 

After rinsing it off, my skin instantly felt so fresh, and looked super healthy!

I can see this being a new essential in my routine.

Have y’all found any new favorites in the drugstore so far this year?

Let me know!

Until then,

-k. 

January Jams

Just a little list of what filled my playlist this month,

and probably the weirdest mix you'll see...

Lonely Call - Raelynn

This One's for you - Luke Combs

No Limit - gEazy ft ASAP Rocky & Cardi B

As Lovers Go - Dashboard Confessional

Prayer of the Refugee - Rise Against

 I Fall Apart- Post Malone

Diane - Cam

Tuxedo - Clare Dunn

Amelia Jean - Jack's Mannequin 

Miss Murder - AFI

Bored to Death - Blink 182

Five Tattoos - Ella Henderson

Angela - The Lumineers

( and really anything else by them...)

What have y'all been singing in the car?

Let me know!

Until then, 

-K

January favorites 💕

Hi lovelies, 

I’ve got way too much stuff to talk about to compose and intro for y’all,
so let’s just jump into it. 

Your girl absolutely raided the bath and body works semi annual sale,
just FYI. If you didn’t, you need to prep for the next one.
I found some of my new absolute favorite products there,
and for super cheap. 

- Snowy Morning shower gel (price after sale $3)

This smells like  heaven, and it isn’t heavily scented like Christmas.
The notes are: frosted bergamot,
mistletoe berry, and snow kissed lavender....
which I mean who really knows what any of those smell like,
but all mashed together, they make an amazing combo.

- White body spray and Rose Body spray ($3.50 after sale)

Both of these took me by surprise.
I purchased the rose spray first,
pretty much because of the packaging,
and fell in love.
I love floral perfumes,
just so long as I don’t smell like the inside of a funeral home.
This one is light and easy to wear.
White is absolutely out of this world.
It smells kind of like dolce and gabbana light blue,
which is why I think it’s quickly become my everyday scent. 

New drugstore must haves...

that honestly left me wondering

where the hell I've been for the last year: 

- Airspun loose face powder ($5.97 Walmart)

Again I say...WHERE HAVE I BEEN.
I’ve never really jumped on the “baking” makeup bandwagon,
but it really truly helps your makeup stay in place all day.
This powder isn’t heavy,
and doesn’t leave you looking like you actually baked
and covered your face in flour.
I’m obsessed.

- Maybelline Big Shot Colassal Mascara ($6.99 Target)



I'm super picky when it comes to mascara,
and up until recently I couldn't find one that
with just a coat or two would create volume and length
without looking gross.
This is such a good formula, and doesn't budge all day.
I have stubby lashes,
and this truly makes them look long and thicc with 2 c's.

- Dove Dermacare scalp Anti dandruff shampoo ($4.99 Target)




I love Dove shampoo anyway,
but in the winter when your scalp gets a little too oily, or too dry,
this shampoo  does the trick without making your hair feel striped.
I know, a dandruff shampoo favorite?
But hell yeah.
This shit is amazing, and smells great too.

What have you been loving this month?
Let me know!

Until then,
K.

Let’s talk about it: weight loss surgery

So, honestly,  I never thought I would be writing something like this. It’s probably going to be a bit ramble-y but I mean so are all my other posts so wtf else is new. 

My mind is jumbled so if I jump back and forth with thoughts, please forgive me. 

I’ve decided to take a huge step and actively pursue the journey that is weight loss surgery. My weight has gotten out of hand, and I feel like I am no longer in control of my body, and that scares me. I’ve taken the first steps in my journey to changing my life for the better and for that I’m proud of myself, for noting the problem, and for trying to make a change. Depending on insurance, and doctors, I’ll have a date soon. 

I made this page initially to talk about makeup tips and tricks, and it turned into a body positivity page, and I love it. I’ve talked about ups and downs and struggles and I’ve met so many people who feel similar to the way I do about being plus sized. I see nothing wrong with it. It is nothing to be ashamed of. Your curves are yours to love. Once I saw my health and mental health taking a turn, I decided I needed a change, and a big one at that. I will always continue to push people to work on loving themselves first. 

The crazy thing is, I’ve never been “skinny” or “average” when it comes to weight. I have no idea what I will look like, or feel like, and that’s something that has played with my head a lot lately. I’m just ready to be able to run. I want to grow old. I want to be able to breathe. I want to watch my someday nieces and nephews and goddaughter and cousins grow up. And I want to travel with the love of my life and not have to worry about breaking chairs. It’s little things that some people never think about that have became my life. Stupid things. Like clothing. Which my life revolves around as a person with a bachelors in fashion. It’s just mind blowing to think about really. 

I’m looking forward to using my blog to document my path through this, and I promise I won’t turn into an annoying health guru. 

If you have had any type of bariatric surgery, I’d love to hear about it, as I’m very nervous going into this thing. Feel free to comment or email or comment on my social media’s. 

I love you all and I can’t wait to see how things change.

X,

Kristen. 

2018.

Well, hello there everyone.

I'd like to start by wishing everyone a very happy new year,
and I hope that y'all had a great holiday season.
Each year I've posted right after the new year a bit of a reflection
and a bit of what I hope is to come in these next 11 months.

2017 was a weird year, right?
It was full of tragedy, awful politics, and fucked up weather.
But, it was also full of movement.
And I think that it's really important to focus on that.
There was such a feeling of change in the air,
between protests, marches, and powerful people letting their
opinions flow freely. It shows that we are not stuck.
Watching #nomore and #timesup take over the internet
was so incredible, and I am so proud of the women who are
changing our country.

Personally, 2017 was a year of change as well. I've seen myself growing in a way that I really hadn't before. I'm still an absolute mess, but I'm talking about growth that can't be seen in person. Mentally the year was tough. I "deal" with anxiety daily. Some days are fine, and others I can't seem to pull myself out of "it." I've began putting a voice behind these struggles and asking for help, which is something I've never done. Put yourself first for once. Anxiety and depression are extremely serious and shouldn't be toyed with. You're allowed to ask for help.

I've also been on a path to a better me, which I'm planning on writing another post on completely. But I can't wait to finally grow into the best version of myself.

I hope you've given yourself time to relax and enjoy the season.
I can't wait to see what 2018 has to hold for all of us.

All of my love, and wishes for the best.

-K.

Thoughts from 28,000 feet.

Hi lovelies,

I'm currently somewhere inbetween Long Island, and Baltimore, about 30,000ft above land. I've been on a plane many times, but each time seems different. I don't know how people could not stare out the window the entire time, as I do. I understand fears and anxieties about flying, and trust me, ya girl always feels them as I'm about to take off or land, but the thing is, flying above the clouds is something beyond what my mind can process. 

       

For 20 years my feet had never left the northeast. Now I'm casually traveling 800 miles back to Charlotte. It's just a bizarre thing that comes with growing up. But these clouds y'all, I could cry. It's the most incredible thing, every single time. It just gives me hope. I'm clinging to my dreams right now with every fiber of my being, so any little bits of strength that I can receive from the sky are appreciated greatly. There's something that gives me a push up here. I'm ready to go back to my southern comfort zone and get my life back. 

I just figured I'd do a little post, and maybe give y'all some Saturday motivation. It's time to put my phone down now and enjoy this view.

Thank you everyone again for flying along with me through my journey. Your support means the world to me.

Love always,

K. 

Las Vegas.

Hello lovelies,

I planned on writing a review today, but I can't bring myself to do so, because these past two days have been so incredibly heavy. As all of us know now, 59 innocent lives were stolen, and over 500 people have been reported hospitalized  in Las Vegas on October the 1st at the Route 91 harvest festival, a country music event. 

    I come to you today, offering a safe place to write how you're feeling, because I myself have no words to convey my condolences to those who were partaking in one of the best parts of life, music. Being able to see some of your favorite performers is thrilling, it is life changing, and it should be fun. For those at the festival, life definitely has changed. As many have been saying, my thoughts and prayers are absolutely with the victims and families of this senseless crime. 

     I don't want to talk politics, because I am not well informed about the laws governing gun regulations. I want people to be able to openly express how they are feeling in this time. Last year, I dedicated a post to those who lost their lives in Orlando during the Pulse Nightclub shooting, and it was a way for me to convey my thoughts. I am scared. We live in an extremely dangerous time. A time where someone, in a matter of minutes, has changed American history forever, for the worse. 

    Living in the south had been a dream of mine for a bit of time. Living here has giving me the ability to go and see country music artists who I have loved, in both indoor and outdoor arenas. We should not have to be afraid to go into those places. It is extremely unnerving to be seeing what has happened, and knowing that if that was here in North Carolina, it could have been my friends, it could have been my family. Knowing that it can, and does happen anywhere, is terrifying.

     But we cannot let a mad man decide to take over our day to day life, and our futures. Let your voices be heard. Speak out, tell people how you are feeling about Las Vegas. I salute those first responders, brave concert goers, law enforcement and all those who helped during the tragedy. Tell your families, friends, and loved ones what they mean to you on a constant basis. If you believe in God, or a higher being, pray for those who lost their lives, and those who are now living with the memories of what occurred that night.

            

Las Vegas, my heart is with you today and always. I pray for solice and comfort for those impacted in the upcoming days, months, and years. 

All of my love,

 

Kristen. 

Cooking with Kristen; comfort.

Hello there loves,

So if you know me, you probably read that caption and either laughed or got very nervous. I'm not a chef, and I'm pretty terrible at cooking to say the least. BUT I can cook a few things, and I've discovered one more this week that I made and didn't die/actually fell in love with.

Being far away from home and family really sucks sometimes, and ya girl needed some good comfort food to pick herself up. My mom used to always make huge pots of soup, and I loved every single one of them. So I decided to make a big pot of chicken noodle soup, and let me tell ya, this shit is good for the soul.

(I'm Italian, and  I don't know how to cook for one person, so this made about 4 pint containers worth of soup, good for freezing.)

Ingredients:

1 4 pound whole dryer chicken

5 large carrots

2 large yellow onions

5 celery stalks

5 cups water

2 cans chicken stock

4 boullion cubes

1 packet Bag and Bake chicken seasoning (mccormicks)

Dried parsley

Dried thyme

Dried oregano

Black pepper

Salt

Seems like a shit ton of stuff, but it's really easy.

Step one: 

Make sure to take the gizzards out of your chicken(without puking) cut down the chicken into pieces. Into the biggest damn pot you have, add in your water, chicken pieces, and boullion cubes over high heat. Chop one of your onions into quarters and throw it in there as well. 

Step two:

I think the main reason why this stock was so good is because of the shitload of seasoning I added into it. By eye, add in your parsley, which I love a ton of, s&p, oregano, thyme, and bagged seasoning. Put a lid on that bitch and let it boil. 

Step three:

Peel and chop your celery, other onion, and carrots into small pieces and add to a large sauce pan, and turn on medium. To that, I added in one can of chicken broth, and brought up to a simmer. I let this cook for a good bit of time, because I prefer my veggies in my soup to be more on the mushy side as gross as that sounds. This takes about 20 minutes. Once to your consistency, put to the side. 

Step four:

After about an hour over high heat, check your chicken and ensure that it is boiled to perfection. Remove fat from the top of the stock with a spoon and toss in the garbage. Remove chicken from stock and let it relax for a few minutes before cutting. In the meantime, I removed the large pieces of onion from the chicken pot and made sure there was no skin or bones left in the pot. Remove chicken from the bones, and cut into chunks. I like my soup to be hearty, but it's up to you how you'd like it cut. 

Step five:

Once all of your chicken is chopped, place back into stock, and add in your celery, carrots, and onions. Add in one can of broth, and one can of water to your stock, and let simmer for about 20 minutes. Now, you can add in noodles, or rice, or whatever you'd like! 

As I said, I'm no chef, but this is how I made my chicken soup, and I think it was delish. What tips of tricks do you have to the perfect soup?

 Let me know. 

Pamper night.

The perfect pamper night:

Start by pulling your hair back; and cleansing your skin with warm water. This will help to open your pores and wash away the day a bit.  After this, with a cotton pad, I use an intense cleanser to get around my most oil prone spots. It feels amazing, and keeps away any little break outs that may decide to show up randomly when I definitely don't need them.

Next, what I like to do is apply both hyaluronic acid, and coconut water to help bring back some moisture to my face. I feel as though even though my skin is combo/oily, this truly makes my skin look firmer and feel better.

After the serum and mist, apply a face mask of your choice. Now I know that sheet masks are all the rage, but I'm definitely more of a thick mask kind of girl. Whether it be the first aid beauty one as shown above, or a clay mask, I love having one in my pamper routine at least twice a week. If for nothing else, it's a little treat, and makes me feel like I have my shit together for a sec. 

Next, a really long hot shower. Scrub off all the shit that makes ya feel nasty, and enjoy your time away from the world. Use a hair mask if you have one, or just let your conditioner sit in for a bit longer. It works miracles, I promise. 

When getting out, the first thing I like to do after drying off and moisturizing is putting on deoderant. You don't wanna stink right after you worked hard to get clean. I focus on my hair for a bit before putting it up into a towel. My hair is extremely long, so I like to comb it out, and apply the Living Proof split end mender to the bottom half of my hair. It smells amazing, and does show pretty good results. I also add a little bit of the Toni and Guy volume whip to my roots, just to add to it if I decide to blow dry. 

Lastly, a bit of moisturizer and a spritz of rose water spray, and some cozy time in bed. 

I find that having a night like this a few times a week really helps my anxiety, and calms me down greatly. 

What are your favorite pamper time

 beauty or bath products?

Let me know!

Until then,

K.

Worth a thousand words.

Hello lovelies,

Last weekend, my boyfriend and I went to a cider brewery (don't know if that's the right term exactly)

 for a little impromptu day drinking date. 

It was nice out, 

and we decided to sit outside and enjoy the weather.

 He, partially-candidly took this picture of me, 

and shared it on his instagram.

At first, of course, 

I thought it was adorable that he instagrammed me, 

as any social media loving girl would. 

Then, almost like clockwork, in my mind,

 I started ripping myself apart. 

My eyes went directly to my chins, 

my arm fat, the mark in my shirt, 

how my boobs looked, that my hair was frizzy, etc. 

I literally had to stop myself.

 This girl in the photo was having an amazing, beautiful day with her best friend in the world, smiling and posing for a photo, and yet I, was sitting here now staring at her, picking at her every "flaw." 

    He decided to post this. 

And then, so did I. The only person in the world who can tear me down so badly, is myself. This picture captured a genuine moment of calmness, and happiness in my life, and I considered deleting it because of my issues with my own self image. 

Why do we erase precious moments,

 when we should be cherishing them? 

I am extremely lucky to have such a wonderful man in my life who shows me off. It is something I've never had before, and it is such a new thing to me. 

Have you done this before?

Before you erase something, 

think about what you were doing at that very moment.

 Did it capture something you can't relive? 

Then keep it.

You don't have to post it,

But you also don't have to use it as target practice either.

Sending all of my love your way.

Until then,

K. 

Let's talk about it.

Hello lovelies.

     Welcome back to the world of rants by Kristen. I started this little blog as a way to try to delve into the beauty and fashion world all from my desk, in my suburban home on Long Island, as a junior in high school. Many years later, with four years of college under my belt, I'm finally at a point where I'm ready for my little journal to be more than what it is. 

   With 20,000+ page views, and a passion for spreading body positivity, love, and my views self expression through style, I find myself constantly wishing for more. I am incredibly thankful for every single person who reaches out and talks to me about my page. I used to find it semi embarrassing, as this was simply a place that I thought of as mine. But here's the thing, it isn't. It is just as much yours, as it is mine. I'm currently sitting on my balcony, at 2:00am, as you do of course, and really trying to think about where I should be. Who am I? How can I do the things I want to do? How can I turn myself into the person I truly am on the inside? And, where do I find these answers? 

    To my readers, and anyone with advice, I ask you, how do you transform a platform such as mine into something more than this? As happy as I am with the successes my page has had, I feel as though I can speak to so many people in my position, and help to influence their lives positively regarding body image. If you have any advice, please reach out to me on any media and help a girl out. I am ready to show my full potential. 

Again, with all of my heart, thank you guys for sticking with me through the good and the bad. I truly appreciate the support.

All of my love, always,

Kristen. 

Plus size girl in a skinny world?

Hello lovelies,

I've wanted to write this for a little while, but was unsure of how to word it without being insulting, or saying something I didn't actually mean. For the past few months I have worked for a company that sells beautiful clothing. I merchandise, style, and help clients, which is something I truly love doing.

The only part that has taken a while for me to understand, or to even try to grasp, is how the clothing actually fits. I, as anyone who knows me would know, am a plus sized girl. The brand I am representing sells clothing up to a size, about 14(and that's kind of pushing it if I'm being honest) cannot remember the last time I was a size 14. It takes a toll on my confidence every day that I sell these garments and have no idea of how they fit or what they look like on. It's just tough, and quite honestly, it bugs the fuck out of me.

And the thing is, it really hadn't bothered me until last week. Until a new associate in the store I work at, asked me if I needed help finding the "women's " section. Now, I know she wasn't trying to be rude, and I quickly told her I worked for the brand in the zone I was in, but it truly caught me off guard. The "womens" section, and the section I were working in, are literally across the store from each other. The plus sized clothing is literally shoved into the back corner of the second floor, where you wouldn't find it if you just walked through.

The average American woman is not a size 2. She's in the double digits. So why on earth are those pieces of clothing hidden? I take pride in being very good with sales, and being able to sell just about anything I put my mind to, but this has made me really start to try to figure things out. 

How do you sell something that you can't stand behind, or stand in, without being questioned?

Just needed to rant a bit tonight. 

Let me know what you think. ❤️

Until then,

Kristen.