What I Mean When I Say I Love You

 

Whenever I log into Facebook, it’s typically a crap shoot of whether I’ll see 20 consecutive selfies, a client embarrassingly ‘liking’ see through yoga pants, or a racially driven political rant. But today I logged in and hit the jackpot.

One of my dear friends shared this article, “Love Is Not Enough“. I recommend you go right now, ditch this blog post and make that one your read of the day.

But if you must stay, let me tell you that this article was probably one of the best things I’ve read this year. It got me to thinking about that little word LOVE, how much it means, and how much I use it.

If we’re friends, I tell you I love you. And if I haven’t recently, please know that I love you. (More on what that means soon.)

I’m a love whore. I love a lot of people. Granted, a lot of them are the wrong people that I shouldn’t love. I still love an ex boyfriend that is such a pain in my ass, but alas, I love him. But that love doesn’t rule my life, make it impossible for me to love other people, or more importantly, prohibit me from loving myself. It doesn’t take up enough space in my heart to be all consuming, but he has and always will have a little pesky place.

I feel like when we fall in love with someone, often times that relationship takes over our lives, and not always in a good way. We lose sight of the little things. Plans with your friends become fewer and farther between. You’re focused on spending every available moment with your new boo that you forget to go grocery shopping, mail out that bill, wish your friend a happy birthday. (Thank God for Facebook on that one!) We don’t realize this is even happening mostly because we’re so love drunk on the feelings of, well, love. It feels so good to be around him/her. Before you know it, when you’re not at work, you’re with them. And one day you realize you haven’t texted your BFF back in 6 weeks, all you have in your fridge is expired milk, and you’re paying some shitty interest on that credit card bill you forgot to mail out.

I don’t know about your credit card company, but they don’t buy it when I call and say “Oh, I’m just so in love, I forgot to mail it!” And my girlfriend would shit and entire brick if I said “Oh, I’ve been so in love I haven’t called you.”

I know this might make me sound like the girl who has been hurt by people who love this hard and forget their friends, but I’m honestly speaking as the person who historically loves someone else so hard and forgets to love herself first. My hair gets cut. My waxing gets done. I get a shower. But is that for ME? Or is that to ensure my dude isn’t like “Yo, you smell like a foot, and can you please move your leg hair braids? They’re in my frozen TV dinner.”

As the years have passed, I’ve become more aware of how I love, and making sure I keep myself in check, especially during that amazing obsession / honeymoon stage where everything that the other person does makes you feel like a million electric sparks are going through your body. Nothing else matters because DING DING DING, he just texted you and life is instantly better. About to get fired because of bad work performance. Who cares? Boo just sent me a selfie! Rent late? Life goes on, we’re going out for sushi tonight.

Love doesn’t solve anything. Love doesn’t fix broken lives. Attention and action  fix broken things. Some of my most healthy relationships have failed because I didn’t focus on the other part of my life – my life outside of the other person.

And that was a hard lesson for me to learn. But once I did, I realized that I truly do love the people in my life, no matter how miniscule their role is. If it wouldn’t make me look like a freak, I’d tell my barista I loved her every day.

Even if you’re not comfortable with saying “I love you”, or if you reserve the word for those really serious times, that’s okay too. I, myself am a writer and I feel like I can be more creative with “I love you” and make it more meaningful. For me, I use the term a lot. But it isn’t any less important. Nor does it mean that I want to intertwine my body with you forever and ever.

What I want you to know, internet, is that if I ever tell you I love you, here’s what I mean:

I love you. I love that I can love you and love myself at the same time and not feel guiltily pulled in either direction. Your mere existence makes my life better in either a big way, or a little way, but no matter, you’ve changed my life and are a part of my journey. I’ve learned something from you. I love you.

Even to the asshole ex that I still love, that entire statement still applies. I love that I don’t love him obsessively, nor does that love prevent me from loving myself or others. I love the lessons he taught me, and I love who I’ve become as a result of those lessons.

So, I love you and stuff. That’s all I’m trying to say.

 

Building My Dream While Watching YouTube and Having Random Ass Playlists

I’ve seen this quote over and over forever. In fact, if I head on over to pinterest, AKA my legal crack addiction, I can probably find the quote written about 100 diferent ways:

Oh, would you look at that? 4.5 seconds and BOOM result. Wish the same went for pizza.

This quote, about if you’re not pursuing your dreams, someone else will hire you to build theirs, rings true for me.

Over the last few weeks, I’ve been really sitting gentle with myself. Listening to all of the little messages my inner girl has been giving me and tuning into what she needs.

How many jobs or side gigs do I have in which I am someone’s asisstant to getting their things done so that they can shine their brightest? Answer: a lot.

Let me make this very clear: I love each and every one of my clients. They glow in their own right, and without me, they’d still glow like the fucking sun. I love helping them get shit done and project planning. This really isn’t  about them.prepare for another career shift, I have been seeking out jobs that aren’t supporting roles.

I’m Katie Colihan, and I wanna be baby and I don’t want to be put in the corner, damnit!

A lead in what? Well, that’s the next step.

I’ve always loved being an advocate of the Mental Health stigma. Perhaps there is some college teaching there.

I’ve also always loved Grey’s Anatomy so many I should go to med school and do some harecord cardio thoracic or domino surgeries.

Regardless, I know that if I keep taking on these administration projects that I’m really good at, that I am not using the part of me that is a fantastic leader, idea maker, and all-in-all trail blazer. I can’t help but to feel a little restricted in my positions.

I get extremely excited when a work project can be tied into mental health, or career placement, or blogging. My nerd boner is on full effect.

So maybe the mental health field in some capacity is for me. Perhaps  its volnteer, taking TWLOHA to a more local level, oe even becoming a Little Sister.

All I know is that this isn’t it for me. I have so much more to do, and I refuse to let excuses of “I’m ready” “Someday” “When this happens” to hold me back anymore.

I’m not trying to be too hard on myself, but I feel like I’ve been a little too nice. Blaming it on winter blues, or whatever else I can, is keeping me from chasing the life I actually want.

Nothing happens without action, right?

That’s worth repeating. Nothing happens without action.

I talk to people all day that want these amazing lives with tons of money and a 4 car garage overlooking the Russian Palace, but they’re doing the same 9-5 job all day wishing the day would happen.

A friend of mine really wants to be with a guy she’s into but she refuses to make the steps in the right direction. And he doesn’t realize he wants her. And she’s just pushing him further away because even dudes dig chicks to be forward sometimes.

I’m just saying, you guys. I don’t care what it is… do it. If it’s getting you closer to you goal. Just do it. Stop waiting for the perfect time because the perfect time is not going to happen. Grow some balls. And use them babies.

Other than growing my own cute little furry balls in a jar, I’ve been perusing the internet. Wanna know what I’m doing? Yeah? Of course . We’re friends., duh.

 

YouTube

I’m tardy to this party but I’ve been on Youtube for 2 big reasons.

1. It’s VLOGMAS (or vlog every day in December or the time of the year when I fall in love with Ian’s accent everyday)

2. Miranda Sings. I can’t NOT laugh at every single one of her videos.  She was recently on Jerry Seinfeld’s Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee . If you’re up for some awkward humor then go for it. And if you hate it, I hate you, so haters back off,.

My favorite video from Miranda has to be this.

Do yourself a favor and watch the bloopers:

 

But let’s be serious. I love all YouTube. Especially Jennifer Lawrence interviews, Rebel Wilson everything, Britain’s Got Talent skits that make me laugh or cry… I have an illness.

 

The Holiday

God. This movie with Cameron and Kate and switching houses and falling in love, and out of love, and learning about themselves through an old guy named Arthur and JACK BLACK… hands down my favorite Christmas movie. Back when I was dating an ass, in the movie theatre, I was compelled to take his number out of my phone as a symbol to erase him from my life. I don’t remember if it worked for good, but it felt empowering in the moment. Watching it this year made a lot of things much more clear for me too. Being in limbo is hard work.

 

Serial

OMG GUYS. How did I miss this? I won’t spoil anything, but just know that a true story is told week by week with real interviews with witnesses and people of interest in a murder crime. S1 is completely over, so you can binge that shit. Then, stay tuned for episode 2. You should listen up, and then let’s talk about conspiracies. Head on over here to get addicted.

 

Music:

Every day  I have new obsessions and can’t stop. And as soon as a I post this I know I’ll have more.  It took me like 39432 minutes to figure out this embedding thing, so I’m going with it. Even thoiugh there are about 3843949032 songs on this list and it’s only showing 9.  If you’re dying for all of my rad music: Here be a link: (Protip — You can scan the whole thing by using the little gray bar! Woot! Today is a good day,)

How can you not jam to at least ONE of these? Gosh.

So, in closing. I’m back. To blog as regularly as possible, And to continue on the regular. Word? Word.

Lifeaversary | 5

 

I’ve been thinking about this post for months. Not so much in a  ‘what would I say” kinda way , because girl, I always know what to say. But  I wanted this post to be honest. And saying the words “Yeah, I didn’t know if I was going to make it through this year” doesn’t quite sound or look as pretty when written.

I know this sounds super scary, but it’s my truth. And that is something I have grown to value.

My truth is that this year was not only difficult, it was almost impossible. I struggled to get out of bed. I struggled to keep up with commitments. I didn’t talk to anyone other than my mother and occasionally my close girlfriends. The conversations were fake. I wasn’t okay. But it kept them from worrying, so that was a win. I thought.

Some days came easy, but most didn’t. The sun was too bright. Bed felt too good. And ignorance of the outside world was as close to bliss that I would get.

Thankfully I have a day job that I have to actually get up and go to, or else I might not have left the house.

I’m sure people realized that some days were not my best days, but I’m a master of the “I’m just having a tough day” lines, and they worked damn well.

(Oh, ISFJ, you don’t want to burden people with your problems at all,  do ya? No. We do not. We need to be needed. We don’t like to need.)

But what I wanted to say was “Everything is spiraling out of control and I don’t know how to get off this ride and can you make it stop? I really just want some funnel cake or something. Can life please just sit fucking still for one damn minute? PLEASE?”

 

How did I get here?

There’s never an exact moment that I can pinpoint that things went to shit and I stopped caring. For me, it was more likely a culmination of a lot of things.

The grief from losing my grandmother last May ripped me inside out. Again. Just when you think grief is over, the cycle begins again. And again. And again. Grief has no rules.

My weight began to fluctuate. It was the same 20 pounds,  but it was going on and coming off in the most unhealthy ways.

I decided to get rid of a lot of clients, because I just didn’t care anymore,  so I went from living comfortably to having to have a to-the-penny budget. This was one of the largest adjustments I had to make. Financial comfort makes me happy.

I left  two relationships that were not in line with my life nor were they what I wanted, no matter how comfortable they felt.

My best friend  of 11 years and I didn’t speak for 4 months – during some of the most difficult times of my life where all I needed to hear was his voice, or  get some of his insight. You never know how much someone means to you until they’re not there, you know?

I accepted that some friends were never going to be the types of friends that I needed them to be. Instead of trying to teach them how, I decided to let them go. Ouch.

I saw my father’s health decline a bit.

I had a financial setback that eliminated all of my savings.

I considered moving across the country for a better paying job and leaving my NJ roots and Philly love.

I was just so confused, and the ground that I had relied so much on had been taken from under me.

There was a point this year when I honestly had no idea what “good” looked like, and I tried everything in my power to make things look good. I was convinced that I would never know what good would look like again, so was it even worth it?

And that was my rock bottom.

I needed a new plan. Things needed to change. Something had to give. But did I even want to bother? Was I beyond helping?

After much thinking. I realized that no moving cross-country plan, hair cut, new outfit, new friends… none of it changed the truth:

  •  That changing things was completely in my control and it wasn’t in one small change
  • That everything I needed  to overcome my difficulties was already inside of me, or by my side.

If you can’t see it, does it even exist?

The weird thing about any kind of depression is that it’s invisible. I don’t go into work limping. I don’t show up at my family barbecues with bruises and rashes. For a while, I was showing up with a smile on my face, and jokes ready to go. But then I stopped showing up because even walking into the door was too much pain.

Pretending to be happy when you’re so miserable inside is hard. Wanting to talk about it but not knowing how to even start is a battle that I couldn’t even walk into.

The choice and the change. 

I knew I had two choices. To do nothing and keep feeling horrible. Or to do something and at least have a chance of being back to good again. Even though doing something was much harder than doing nothing. Sleeping all day and not giving a shit was much easier. Seriously. I tried.

But with a lot of fear,  and a ton of resistance, I opened up more to my core circle about how I was feeling. Letting go of the guilt that it would burden them. Instead of “I’m having a bad day” I said “I’m having a rough time with _______________, and I need some help navigating this.”

And some listened. And cared.

I wrote an email to my best girl friend and was completely honest with her. I laid it all out on the line. I held nothing back. It was the darkest email I had ever written, but I had to get it out of me. It made it real.  I needed someone to know that I wasn’t giving up the fight, but I was having one heck of a time staying in the game.

I remember sending that email, and her response came quickly. “What can I do? Can I come over and just sit with you?”

Another friend who I briefly told my situation to reacted “This is when you say “I need my friend” and I come rushing over.”

These… friends. They weren’t trips across the country or new haircuts or decisions to lose  80 pounds. They were people who already were here and ready to fight with me.

They didn’t tell me to “go to therapy”, they didn’t tell me to “run away”, they didn’t tell me anything really, other than that they were there, for whatever I needed.

There are some family and friends who knew of my struggle and stayed away. I can’t blame them for that. People have their own struggles to go through. All in all it was a blessing that those who stood in my corner are the people I know are my people. My lifesavers. My lifelines.

“Can I come over and sit with you?”

It’s precisely what I would do when my Grandmom was alive. If I had a bad day, I’d just go visit with her and sit beside her. Sometimes we’d talk, and sometimes we’d play cards, but mostly, we’d just sit.

As I was going through my big hairy scary stuff this year, I didn’t need someone to see me as someone who was too delicate, or fragile, or breakable. I didn’t need people to sit around a table and say “Oh, that Katie. It’s such a shame.”

I just needed someone, anyone to want to be in the same room as me for no other reason than to be there with me. If we laugh, we laugh. If we’re quiet we’re quiet. If I spill my guts and ugly cry, then so be it.

Sometimes I need someone to just be. And I’m so grateful to have that in my life and not to have to go looking for it.

 

So here we are… … what’s next?

Another year down. And since I sent that letter to my friend back in April,  there have been definite changes.

The biggest thing I’ve learned to do is to ask for help. No person is an island, and sometimes you need to say “Hey, I need some help, can you please help me?”

God those words are so hard for me. It’s so much easier to be someone’s midnight crisis phone call than to make that phone call, you know? But I had to get off of my Beyonce “Independent Lad-ays” dance tendencies and move over to some U2’s “Sometimes You Can’t Make It On Your Own.”

Because you can’t make it on your own. We’re not meant to.  My brain still doesn’t completely buy that, but it’s sure learning.

I learned things… because otherwise this struggle would have been for nothing.

    • I see the light at the end of the tunnel, guys. Like, it’s there. Even on my dark, gross, days, I see the light. And I know I’m on my way there.

 

    • I’ve re opened my savings account again and God, it feels better than cupcakes.

 

    • I know who I am. I have an identity. I’m a kick-ass business woman who loves Hendrick’s Gin and TWSS jokes, coffee, and a medium rare steak.

 

    • I’ve learned that not everyday is going to be a good day. I’m going to struggle. My mood is going to suck. But I have the right people on my side who I can just vent to, or sit and ‘be’ with.

 

    • I’ve learned that if I’m feeling poorly, then I have total control over that, and it’s up to me to identify the source, and eliminate it or acknowledge it. (This one was SO HARD!) Sometimes sitting with the negative feeling is the answer and OMG I HATE THAT.

 

    • I’ve learned not to feel shame for my story because not only have I been weak, but I’ve been incredibly brave and resilient.

 

    • I’ve learned that not everyone will understand what I’m going through. I understand that people will make up their own stories as to why I haven’t called or written or reached out. I’ve also learned that I have zero control over that.

 

    • I’ve realized that moving anywhere right now is not a good idea. I’d be running away, not running toward something. Running would have been much easier, yes, but there’s still fight here in Philly. There’s still more for me here. Good things.

 

 

    • I’ve learned that some things make me happy, like really happy, not just ‘happy because I have to be’.  Like, pancakes, and greek salads, and coffee dates, and naps, and the perfect running playlist.

 

Here I am. 5 years old. Fresh off of a freakin’ hard as hell year that I had no idea if I’d make it through, but I did.

I did it you guys.

And you all helped.

Every. Single. One. Of. You. Who. Is. Reading. This.

Friend. Family. New Friend. Old Friend. Someone I’ve never met. Someone I will meet. Someone just reading this right now. All of you. Any of you.

You’ve said things you didn’t know you’ve said. You’ve done things you didn’t know you’ve done. You’ve believed in me when I didn’t even know how to look at myself.

Thank you.

I’m dedicating this year to all of you, my dear lifesavers.

Here are some previous life-a-versary recaps. Sadly, my initial post on Brandy’s blog is no longer available because her blog is closed. Boo,. But enjoy!

Lifeaversary 4:

Lifeaversary 2:

I’m Never Going To Be Ready

 

In the morning my alarm goes off at 6:11AM. I don’t have to be in work until around 10 or 11AM. So there are 5 hours. 5 glorious hours that many would kill for and that I could use to work, get active, make a breakfast that isn’t just a banana and 4 cups of coffee…  I could do all of these things instead of rolling over and saying “Meh, I’ll get up when I’m ready.”

Here’s something I learned and have accepted recently:

I’m never going to be ready to get up in the morning…

or to get into the shower.

or to take a jump into something unknown.

or to let go of someone or something.

or to  do my laundry.

or to  make that phone call.

or to  say what I’m feeling.

or to say no.

or to say yes.

I’m never ready for anything. Except, of course to make the excuse “I’ll do it when I’m ready.” For that, I’m always ready.

In my mind I’m always preparing for something bigger. Whether it’s putting that big idea out into the world. Or to book that plane ticket. Or to tell someone how I feel. Or to leave a client. Or to ask for more money. The desire to do big things is always cooking, but it’s never ready (or so I tell myself)  When asked, I’m always ‘working on it’. But I’ve found that I’m working toward a goal that I’m never going to get because it’s that last jump, that last action, that last corner to turn that I never take…

So, I’ve got a very hungry ‘wants-so-much-more’ soul inside of me. And if you know me, you know how hangry I get.

No wonder I’m so pissed that I feel like I’m doing all of the work, but nothing seems to be changing. I’m putting in all of the emotional preparations, taking the required steps, doing what’s needed,  but not doing any of the actual ballsy action work.

Everything is just kinda chilling on the launch pad, waiting to be ready. And of course everything I do or am working on reaches a point where all of the preparation work has been done and the next logical step is to take action… … and I stay in some kind of holding pattern.

For me, the preparation of everything is always the easy part. There’s a certain safety net in “I’m getting ready to…” or “I’m working on…” or “It’s my intent to…”  To everyone else, it sounds like I’m actively doing something, and hell, I may be. But usually in my case, I’m prolonging the hard part of whatever it is I’m working on. You know, I’m ‘waiting until I’m ready.”

BECAUSE ACTION IS SCARY, YOU GUYS.

So much can go wrong.

But I forget that so much can go right, and I’ll never know which way it’ll go until I do something.

So, self: do more stuff, okay?

I wish it were that damn easy.

How in the hell to I break this deep-set-almost 30-year old habit? I’m seriously pouting right now, because the answer is so clear, but I’m admittedly someone who really wishes shit would just happen and I didn’t have to make it happen. Like, can’t lasagna cook itself? Cant groceries buy themselves? Can’t tests grade themselves?

No?

GOD WHAT IS LIFE?

The more I think about it, the more I’ve been surrounding myself with people who don’t challenge me. Don’t get me wrong, I know I’m responsible for my own actions, but it’s always helpful to hang with people who inspire you and push you to the next level. Sometimes I need that accountability; someone to keep me and my goals in check. So many of my kick-ass friends are making shit happen. Why am I not doing co-working sessions with them?

I just got three emails from three different people asking me to edit their papers / articles / idea maps. So, it’s not like I don’t have places to bounce ideas off of. I’m just… waiting until I’m ready. Again.

I’m very introvert-y, and I like to talk to myself. So, I’ve found that sometimes I have to have an actual conversation between me and my inner-don’t-wanna-do-it-chick in order to get things done. It goes something like,

Katie, I know you don’t want to get up right now. Yes, you could sleep for another few hours. But you kind of need to be an adult, get up, do some housework, and take a walk. Do SOMEthing. Staying here just isn’t an option today.”

Or more simply: “Katie, you don’t have to like it, but you’re going to get up and do it.”

This shorter approach is something I use very often. Especially since if I don’t do whatever it is in the moment I’m thinking about it, there’s a good chance it will get put off until another day. (See also: until forever and never gets done) (See also: Until I’m ready.)

The truth is, if I wait until I’m ready, I’m never going to accomplish anything.

And I want to do stuff. And love people. And go places. And make money. And get out of bed at 6AM and go on a 2 mile run. I’m always going to want to sleep. Let’s be real.

So, Katie, I know you don’t like it, but stop writing this blog post now, and fold your laundry. And send that email. And make that phone call.

kbye.

I Had A Moment And Now I Have Feelings Or Something

I had a moment this week.

It was on Monday in my office with one of the owners of the company I work for. We were discussing a major decision I have to make in the coming weeks, and she was talking me through what will likely be a life-changing shift in my career path.

I was explaining to her the reasons that I decided against making a business decision that was a bit shoddy despite the almost guaranteed financial gain from it. My only explanation was that it just didn’t feel right.

I’ve known this woman for nearly 4 years. We’ve shared a lot of words, especially over the last few months. And of all the things she’s said to me, I’ll remember what she said next forever-ever. (Foreva-eva?)

She looked me in the eyes, put her hand over her chest and said “Kate, think with this [your heart], and you’ll never go wrong.”

I half-smiled, nodded my head, and excused myself to go get something to drink.

It’s a simple statement really. “Think with your heart, yo!” I’ve probably said it dozens of times. But this time, it got me. Right in the feels.

Part of the reason for it was because this simple, but meaning-packed expression was coming from her, one of the most admirable, strong-willed, hard-assed business women that I know.

The other part is because I remember the last person who put their hand over their chest and told me to ‘think with my heart’.

More exactly, she said:  “Kathleen, think with your heart, and keep me there, and you’ll be okay.

4 days later, my grandmother passed away.

Despite this sound advice, I’ve surely continued my age-old ways of thinking with my brain. I do make somewhat of an effort to listen to my heart, but 9 times out of 10, I can talk myself in or out of anything by analyzing it half to death. The ways of an ISFJ, you guys. Deep set habits.

As with everything else, I’ve given a ton of thought on why I don’t think with my heart by default. The consensus is that my damn heart gets me in damn trouble all the damn time.

Falling for THAT boy. and THAT boy. and THAT OTHER boy. Staying at THAT job. And then there was THAT decision to spend my whole paycheck on adopting a dog from Sarah McLaughlin. I still can’t listen to the Angel song without wondering where my adopted dog “Mustard” is.

The moment my heart gets involved, and I start speaking it, seems like the moment when shit gets real and goes down the tubes. So I’ve become so comfortable with the “feelings left unsaid” method because it keeps me safe, right?

Totally wrong, but it seems rational to me. So this is why I’d rather keep my mouth shut, feelings left unsaid, so I don’t run the risk of being in something unrequited or god-forbid my feelings be reciprocated and I’m actually happy.

Yes, I’m well aware of the shit storm that I’ve been in for so long. I KNOW.

But thinking with my mind, you know taking the safe route, has saved me a lot of heartache and pain in the long run. I’ve never adopted a dog that way. And I’ve thought myself out of plenty of relationships and jobs that never hurt me or broke me down. (They never had the chance to be ‘the one’ or ‘my dream job’ either, though.)

I’ve recently found myself in several separate situations that are tapping me right square in the feels. From career-choices, to life decisions, to relationships and friendships… I have a lot of these things we call feelings. But I try and tell myself I don’t have any because “I big strong Katie and I think with brain. Feeling make Katie human. Katie robot. (or caveman, maybe.)

I believe that if I ignore my feelings, they’ll eventually go away and I won’t have to do the worst thing in the whole world ever and actually feel them. Ew.

The truth is though, that I have them. These… feelings…whether I like it or not.  Whether I pretend to have them or not.

Some of the feelings feel so damn good. I almost feel guilty for them.

And others feel so damn shitty. Or scary. Or disgusting.

But they’re there. And I have them. I feel things. I’m not a robot. Except for when I’m doing the robot which I’m so freakin’ awesome at. Truth.

Anyway…

Perhaps this fear of feeling is because I’m only remembering the times when feelings felt bad. Death. Heartbreak. Job Loss. Mustard never sending me any more puppy pics in the mail. (Damn you, Sarah!)

So… now I’m thinking, what if my boss and my grandmomma are right? What if safe isn’t the right answer to my life’s questions this time? What if this one time, gut feelings, love, and desires win? What if that thing in my chest knows a little something about happiness and stuff?

I mean, it could happen, right?

So… I’m Katie. And I have some feelings in my…heart thing.

HOLD ME, OKAY?

Do I get donuts pancakes or a first-timer’s chip for this?

(Please say pancakes, please say pancakes, please say pancakes!)