So lets start at the beginning…

The first cigarette I ever smoked I was behind the White Oak shopping center on a Friday night while my parents were socializing at a bar in the front of the shopping center, as we did on Fridays on the west side growing up. I had a bowl cut, buck teeth, was wearing a Starter jacket and cussed way too much for a 6th grader-I thought it was cool and very tough. I was the only girl there, usual scenario. Every time I dared a boy to do anything athletic back then I knew I would win, and if I didn’t, I chalked it up to them being a boy and in my mind, I always won, no matter the out come… I was on top. I think that’s what we all do, make excuses to convince ourselves we are on top no matter what. So even though I couldn’t jump as far as the boys- you’re goddamn right I actually inhaled my cigarette and didn’t cough. Bad bitch.

..Then somewhere along the way I just kept smoking ..I never liked it, I always knew it was bad for me, and very rarely enjoyed it. But as I grew up, it was just became a part of me. On my way to practice when I became Lacrosse team captain, I smoked 2 ciggies and still ran faster then at least 12 other girls. Win. Didn’t happen. Bad bitch. Secret. My secret. The secrets we keep over the years become such a deep part of us and in a way, define us. They become the beautiful rock covered in algae in the bottom of our being, absorbing everything we do and flowing in the waves that define our lives… and when we move those rocks, there remains a space, a half hole that is a different color than the rest of us and doesn’t fit in with anything that has been growing around it. And although our mind wants it to go back to normal immediately, it cant. It’s science. And it takes time to re-grow the slippery stuff. I just want my brown to be green already. You know?

Also, along the way I became a party queen (a pretty damn good one). I have literally climbed mountains in the snow while smoking american spirits and drinking wine, or tequila, or anything that can be drank-those were some fun times. When my baby brother became partying age I guess by default he learned from the best. But there is so much shame associated with smoking, Really anything you do habitually and know you need to stop. I began to realize I was normalizing this shame acceptance for him, and that’s not ok with me, not at all. I suck. I knew I didn’t like the way I felt inside and to think he was in the same place. PA LEEEEESE. We are better than this. We all are. We just deserve so much more. So bring on the Brene Brown, shame get the f*ck out. I’m so over you. But also, umm.. before I let you go sweet shame, I love you and you are my best friend and I don’t want to say goodbye but I know I have to. So que the break up song and replacement therapy…

Next we explore what we do to keep ourselves from doing what we hate/love and try not to expand from our skinny jeans #dietcoke + #candy + #family + Beef jerky + anything really = day 50 hail yeah.