Why Everybody Hates Millennials

The term “millennials” has been all over the internet and the news recently and basically the older ‘generations’ hate us. Why? Apparently it’s because we’re narcissistic, have our noses in our phones all the time, and want world peace and free college. Is that true? Most of it, yes. We are on our phones all the time; but because we’re reading news, articles, conversing with our friends, looking at art; we aren’t just staring at blocks of nothing. We’re educating ourselves or socializing in some fashion.
Do we really want world peace and free college? Hell yeah, we do. Who doesn’t? I’m not even going into that right now.
And last, but not least, the one I’ve been waiting to get into for a while now. Our ‘narcissism’. Oh the beauty of that term and consistently being stuck to every single younger generation until the end of time. But why? Well,  we start out thinking that the world revolves around us and everything that happens is because of us. That’s why young children have such a hard time dealing with their parents’ divorce, thinking it’s their fault and somehow they caused their parents to split up when really they were the reason they stayed together for as long as they did. The thought process of us being so important is not something that goes away immediately. We grow out of it, just like most older people have. It just takes life lessons and, most importantly, time. Soon enough, will be older and complaining about the new generation that has a stupid name that isn’t relevant because ‘generations’ don’t exist. It’s a never ending cycle of complaining.


Love Letter #1

You came to me at a time in my life where I didn’t love myself. I told you at the beginning that I was clinically depressed and high anxiety, but you didn’t bat an eye. You didn’t treat me any different or try to change me. You never awkwardly steered the conversation away when I got a little deep in my emotions; you just let me talk. You never tried to solve my problems because they weren’t yours to solve and there never really was a solution. You would simply check on me and be sure I wasn’t stuck in my own head.

“So shits gonna get heavy for a second, and then hopefully go back to normal as long as everything is cool. And its fine if its not cool, it wont be a burden. You said you found out you were depressed the other day, today going alright?”

I’ve never felt pressured or uncomfortable around you. Since day one, there has always been a calming aura around you and I knew I could be myself around you; something very few of my very close friends have seen. Our laughter intertwined and echoed through your house as we had tickle fights and got into each other’s heads in your living room floor. We asked every question from “What do you like and dislike most about yourself?” to “What kind of burrito would you be?”. You didn’t force me to love myself and get better; you simply guided me by being yourself and allowing both of us to blossom together. You allowed me to get better on my own and I couldn’t be more grateful for you and the love and compassion you have shown me.

To This Day; My Passion

When people make the decision to start any sort of martial arts, they expect to lose weight, learn self defense, or learn self discipline. Then there are others, like myself, who start it just because; just because their parents said to try it or to simply give them something to do. During my first few classes, I would have never guessed that I would meet so many wonderful people that would change me nor would I guess that Tae Kwon Do would become a passion that would not only make me stronger, but make me a better person. I had just turned thirteen when I started taking classes and everything was okay. I would get tired after a class, but I disregarded it as normal. I wasn’t very active beforehand and had a poor diet. I wasn’t overweight; I was just out of shape. Then came that one class that kicked my butt. I had to stop and get out of class because I thought I was going to either pass out or puke. After that one class, I didn’t want to go back; I was incredibly embarrassed and didn’t want to feel like that again. For weeks, I argued with my mom, making up excuses so I wouldn’t have to go to practice. Eventually, I went and it happened again. This time, I wouldn’t let it stop me. I did have to get off the mat, but it wasn’t for long. I realized that if I just ran away from my problem, I would forever be like this and I didn’t want that. I wanted to get stronger and pushing myself was how I was going to do it. Not long after that, one of the instructors talked to me about getting a teenage demonstration team together. We would go to different events, put on a little show, get people to sign up, and leave. I had always wanted to be a part of something and I really needed to make friends that were around my age because I was mainly talking to adults at the time. I talked to my parents about it and we agreed that I should do it. Little did I know what I was getting myself into… I went to Tae Kwon Do five days a week, including Saturday mornings. I couldn’t stay away from the ‘dojang’. We would work out, help out with classes, and then run off to wherever we were doing a demonstration. We would especially work out on Friday nights and sometimes Wednesday nights. So I had demo team practices to go to on top of regular class. Crazy, right? But that was my norm. We worked out ten times harder and more frequent than the people who would just show up to regular class. And surprisingly, I survived; but only barely. Regardless, I became so much stronger and my stamina got built up to where I was flabbergasted at what I had accomplished. Now, I wasn’t the only person on the team. There were a handful of other people but they had the biggest hearts you’ve ever seen. None of us were really close at the beginning, especially me. I had never met any of these people and I was the only white belt on top of being the youngest; so I felt incredibly left out. Regardless, it took us no time to become a family. We would hang out on the weekends and go to movies; we were inseparable. This handful of people that I had never talked to had become my world  They were my best friends and they still are. I had the advantage of being the youngest: it gave me a chance to mature and learn how to act normal- to a point. It’s been about seven years since that demo team diminished and five years since I quit going altogether. Will I go back? I most likely will, but I have another obstacle to overcome. It is my passion and it always will be. I will forever carry what I learned from those people in my heart and Tae Kwon Do will always be a part of me. It was the single thing that had the biggest impact on my life and it made me the person I am today. Tae Kwon Do taught so me so many wonderful lessons. But above all of them, it taught me to never give up and to push myself to the best of my abilities.

On Depression and Suicide

When it comes to suicide, if you or somebody you know is dealing with it, I need you to know that it does not reflect you as a person. It does not make you any less valuable and your depression does not speak the truth. I know it’s telling you that you’re worthless and not loved; understand that it is wrong. Depression is the most blinding illness I have ever experienced; it told me that there is nothing good about me and it would not let me see passed my runny nose and red cheeks from crying. Somebody told me to think of my father and those who love me when I feel like taking my life and I did try. I really did, but all that entered my mind was, “You’re a burden. They will be better off.” I know now that is the biggest lie I have ever heard in my life.

I need you to know that those suicidal thoughts are not signs of a healthy brain; there is something wrong. The brain is an organ that gets sick and suicidal thoughts is definitely a symptom of that. A sick organ means it needs help, it needs medicine, and it needs attention. This is not something to “wait out” or “pray or hope it goes away”. If you ever feel the urge to take your life, I need you to grab that depression by its balls and call somebody. Anybody. You may not know me and I may not know you, but you have to be here. I know life doesn’t seem worth it. I know it hurts. You’re in pain. You don’t want to be here. But the thing is, suicide is a permanent solution to a very, very temporary issue. I know you’ve heard that before and it doesn’t cure anything. Which is why I need you, if you haven’t already, to call a therapist or a psychiatrist. Get an appointment. Talk with them and spill everything out. Emotionally vomit on them.

“Don’t take what so many people fight for.”


Take care of yourself and please be kind to your body and your soul.

Abuse & Why I Stayed

Most people don’t know this, but I have been in abusive relationships. Not in the sense that they ever hit me, but they did tear me down with their words and there was one that involved sexual abuse. I will not go into the details, mainly because there is no reason to. But when I tell people about the sexual abuse, I’ve gotten the same question- “Why did you stay? Why did you let it go on for so long?” Which is absolutely a valid question. I asked myself that for a long time after the relationship and I finally figured out the answer.

Emotional abuse.

No, he never cursed at me or directly insulted me. It was nothing radical or exponential; it was a slow change and painful brainwashing. He made me feel guilty for actions or emotions that either weren’t mine or that I should not have felt guilty for. There might be some people thinking, “What’s the big deal?” Well, I never felt like my emotions were valid. Whenever he did something to upset me, I never said anything because it was probably my fault. I never felt good enough for him, when really, it was the other way around. He made me feel as though I was a pain to put up with and he was the only boy I could find that would stay with me. So, I got nice and comfortable and I stayed. I stayed despite the suspected cheating. I stayed despite the constant fear that he was going to rape me because he didn’t understand ‘no’ because apparently my body was saying ‘yes’. I stayed even though I couldn’t breathe when he got too close.

What happened?

I was able to get some time away from him and understand a tip of the iceberg. I realized I wasn’t happy and it was because of him. I was advancing where I was but I felt the need to stay stuck because he wasn’t motivated to do shit. That’s where I drew the line; nobody is going to hold me back. It wasn’t until I left and went to therapy that I realized how terrible it was and how much damage he did; damage that I’m dealing with a year and a half after leaving. The wounds are healed but the scars are still there to remind me that no man will treat me like that again and it was never my fault.

My Depression Is Real

My depression is a small, stumpy, grumpy, goblin-like creature that sits on my shoulder. He’s dark blue with light green eyes and a raspy voice. He’s small, but he is a weight that I have trouble carrying. He does pull-ups from my shoulders or sits on my neck and sometimes does jumping-jacks. It almost feels like he bought P90x or TaeBo tapes and is trying them out on my muscles.

My depression yells insecurities and  negative thoughts at me like a drill sergeant trying to motivate his lowers to do better; except not. My depression doesn’t want me to be better, he doesn’t want to motivate me. He wants to break me. He wants to hydrate himself with my tears. He tells me there’s no way to get rid of him and he’s wiped my mind of anything good about myself or my life and has only left the negatives.