Kim & Kanye: Dream Home

Home Sweet Home!

Grand Staircase

It's a Perfect Fit!

Enough Room For the Whole Klan!

Dining in Style


Bon Appétit!

Burn, Baby Burn!

Where the Magic Happens

Cue the Glam Sqaud!

Steam for Two!

Enough Room?






Tranquil and Serene

Lush Surroundings

Smart House





Kim Kardashian West and Kanye West recently bought a $20 million beautiful house in Hidden Hills, California. Includes 8 bedrooms, two master closets, 10 bathrooms, two swimming pools, spa and two vineyards. The house is really beautiful and definitely a dream home for anyone! As big as it is, it seems cozy and the house was built in 2012 to make you feel like you have a house in South France.

Thought of the Day

Like all girls, I always envisioned I would be married with children by a certain age. Having come from a broken home that left me in pieces, I was certain that having my own home would amend the damages and facilitate in fixing myself, and make sense of my purpose. I longed for stability and love, and I resented my reality and love. Love was a sensation I sought, but all I was taught was that love is waiting for someone who is never coming home, love was yearning for someone to hold you to keep you from breaking and that love, love was giving someone the power to destroy you. Nevertheless, I also learned about timing. That time itself heals, that time is virtue and that time tick tocks along with your destiny.

I’ve truly come to accept that certain things just don’t happen, or aren’t meant to happen. My grandmother used to always tell me that before your birth, your book was already written for you and to have faith in destiny. I’ve always agreed with that sentiment because it was comforting to consider the thought of that instead of forfeiting to your reality. It’s just like when people say “everything happens for a reason”, we don’t know what the reasons are but don’t we tend to convince ourselves that things happen because they are meant to? We want to believe that there is a purpose for all our hardships, because we don’t want to amuse the reflection that it is because of our own accountability. I’ve struggled with navigating through my chapters, and I find myself questioning where I have been, where I am and where I am going. If it will all lead me to the destiny I believe that I desire, and not get wedged with a fate that I won’t be able to accept. Learning to trust my journey even when I don’t understand it has been both challenging and exhilarating.

As I learn to acknowledge that things aren’t meant to happen or simply isn’t happening at the moment, while holding on to the notion of getting what I feel should belong to me, I’ve reached a peak where having love and giving love now feels like fairytale. The image I’ve painted in my mind of a life I have always longed for has become an imagination. The picture of a beautiful white picket fence house with three children running around as I stand beside a man who loves me, is so far away but the need for it is so close to heart. How do I construct that image in real life? How do I put aside my self-destruction and allow love to restore me? How do you sever the self-harmful behavior and live the life you crave and not be trapped with uncertainty over where life has taken you? How do you retrieve control? These questions linger in my mind and I don’t have any of the answers, all I have is hope.

Growing up with a divorced single mother taught me the significance of independence and to never settle. Being guarded has constrained me in various ways and worst of all, loneliness has become comfortable. Being unaided allowed me to discover who I am and figure out why I constantly chose to be alone. I knew from early on that since I didn’t know how to be loved, I simply needed to be left on my own. And in its own mysterious and secluded way, my loneliness is how I have been able to maintain having control of my life. Eventually, being on your own also disables you from seeing how far you have come. There isn’t anyone reminding you on your good or bad days how much you’ve accomplished. There isn’t anyone to share the highs and lows with. I am in a peculiar transition in my life – some dreams have actually come true and yet, I am filled with a prospective reality that I am scared of. I worked extraordinarily hard to get to where I am now – which is moving to a city I have always wanted to live in and establishing a career I always knew I wanted to embark on. I always wanted to have the sense of being accomplished by the age of 25 and I actually made it, it is the one thing I feel so deserving of and it all feels surreal. But, at the same time of having what I always wanted, I also have nothing. I have everything but nothing at the same time. I am mutually happy and sad.

I am a conversationalist. I value when someone, anyone, allows me inside their mind and share with me their journey, their hopes, the misgivings and all their aspirations. I like depth, as I fall deeper within my lonesome. I crave having someone to talk to, someone to care for, and to simply have something of my own; all the attributes I lost and was neglected of while growing up. Professionally, I am fulfilled and personally, I am unfilled. Although I chose to go on this path, I still marvel of how I ended up where I am and how I became who I am. I so shoddily wanted a story to tell. I was envious of relationships – whether they were fresh, good or wrecked. I’ve never been competent of truly being a girlfriend and I didn’t distinguish a healthy relationship of a husband and wife from my parent’s marriage, therefore, when I see relationships around me, I find myself staring like a child, and being fascinated because I’ve never actually seen it or felt it before. The one heartbreak I did have, I was breaking alone while his heart quickly moved on, and the experience I had with him, years later, has still left me damaged. It was earth shattering and I simply don’t want to go through it again. Still, I am envious of heartbreaks; because heartbreaks remind me of it coming along with someone you can cry too and cry for, someone to fight for and a face to dream of. But wanting it and having it is not the same, I persuaded myself that I no longer wanted to contain any of it. I had nothing to fix, and no one to be broken with, and again, I so deficiently wanted a story to tell, a story other than my own.

As I started to get older and life took me along its twists and turns, I learned to focus on a career and put aside the fairytale of love. A career has value, it has security and a career won’t ever decide it didn’t want you any longer. My force and my dreams were fixated on establishing a career and moving away from Brooklyn. I watched so many lives move on with marriages and children, and I was stagnant and didn’t choose to attain any of it in order to protect me, in case I never have any of it. Does that make sense? I couldn’t find my worth and became engrossed with my insecurities. I mastered how to dislike myself and couldn’t comprehend the idea of someone wanting to love me. I also knew I had limitations when it came to love and relationships. I made a personal decision to abstain from sex till marriage. It was an assessment I made that I could have revoked at any time but I chose not to. I have been persistent on holding on to my traditional values, and as right as that may sound, I have nothing to show for being a ‘good girl’. In dissertation, I am considered perfection, but in reality, I am well thought-out as flawed.

The times I would allow a relationship to develop, I would get cheated on, and I once ended up in terribly abusive relationship. I didn’t make the right choices in men; it was only their darkness that attracted me. I don’t know how to see the light in a man, and I had to come to terms with it all being tied up to deeper issues stemming from the absence of my father. As I got into my twenties, and after going through my latest and greatest heartbreak five years ago, I shut my spirit off and became cynical. I didn’t want to invest in anything that wouldn’t get anywhere. I disregarded and rejected every man who was interested, because I knew I had nothing to offer them, other than great conversations…but the matter with that is, men want more and I require much less. A woman like me acquires a man’s intellect, thoughts and passions. A woman who is fascinated by how he maneuvers and study how he functions, to crave being a part of his existence, to want his flesh and not just settle for the butterflies he can make me experience. A woman like me wants his soul, to be permitted inside his darkness and be the radiance when he needs it most and a woman like myself, will wait for the tolerant man who can take pride in having someone like me, someone with principles, someone who cultivates, someone who has saved herself for the man who can be overwhelmed with the concept of having a woman untainted and all for him. Men want to take women through a storm for their gratifications, as they collect names like a hurricane, and I never been and never will be just a name. I want to be the moon that aligns the stars and thrust someone to make their wishes come true. And when someone can’t find the strength to look up because life is weighing them down; I want to be the sun that can shine for them when they need it most. I want nothing from someone, other than to make me feel like I matter to them. That is all. I was clever enough to not want someone to love me; where that alone would be enough, as to where I wouldn’t have to learn to love myself. I was smart enough to dive into my independence but dense enough to sink and paralyze my youth.

Life also trained me how to walk away and at twenty-two years old, I finally left Brooklyn. I moved to Myrtle Beach for two years to finish school. I learned and grew a lot and the most significant lesson I learned was that I have a tendency to run away instead of dealing with anything internal. But when you don’t deal with what has gone or still going on, it keeps going on. I was being held back incapable of feeling my existence. Even with a new city and having a roommate, I remained isolated and locked myself in my bedroom when I would be home from school and work. I had family around, so I wasn’t always alone but I was lonely. My life was occupied by working two jobs and attending school full time, and I held on to my circumstance and I ran with the verity that I was working hard to secure my future, and that nothing else should matter in the present. I wasn’t allowing myself to feel the life I was living in; instead I kept trying to be an architect of days that haven’t happened yet.

I am in the process of revaluating myself, figure life outside of wanting two of the things I now have (new job and new city). I walk into my studio apartment in Miami Beach, with a stack of bills on the counter and a list of errands I have yet to accomplish. My phone is never on silent but it also never rings. I go for a stroll and I stare at the faces that walk by. I look in admiration of the holding hands and I question if I will ever have someone to hold on to too. I can never comprehend how I became used to being alone, to the point where I question if there could be a life for me without loneliness. I’ve become too accustomed to it and I want to readjust away from that feeling. I saunter back home and I am still astounded of where I am and how far I have come. I am finally here! Could it be, that I was worthy of a dream coming true? Now what? How do I turn my emptiness into fulfillness? I want to have it all. What I do want now is the same thing I have tried to escape from. I want love and to finally be loved and as much as that scares me, it is something I am finally permitting myself to…desire.

I used to believe that I had to prove myself to everyone. I wanted to be validated. It was a weight I was carrying that became a ship on my shoulders. I had to let go of the need to attest to everyone who and how I am. I needed to dig in and identify why I was becoming angry; was it because I was ashamed of whom I am and the choices I have made? As proud as I am of myself, is as much as I am bitter. However, I am realizing that I only owe myself the aptitude to be free and open, the courage to introduce myself with confidence, the continuous willpower to hold on to my ethics and standards, and the spirit to make them be appreciated, the strength to continue to search for my self-worth and forgive myself and the aspiration to want love in my life and to no longer be terrified of it.

I am starting to believe in the fairytale all over again, through gaining more wisdom and as my imagination wanders, I am revisiting the image I have painted in my mind of a life I always sought after and trust that I deserve for it all to happen. Although the unknown is scary, I’ve come to terms that I am doing myself a disservice by being trapped in a bubble I’ve been living in. You know, I’ve always wanted children. It is the only fixation I have desperately wanted, but I am stuck by my own manipulation into believing I don’t want it, again, just to shield myself in case I never do acquire any of it. I am not frightened of feeling pain; I am scared to go crazy over love, and anxious to have another earth-shattering heartbreak. The reasons why I am protecting myself is because I can be prepared, be equipped for that loss of never having children, thus how I can just carry on living with the void. Since I wasn’t secure of having a boyfriend, a marriage and kids, I wanted it to be known to everyone around me that my focal point was only to obtain a career and not a relationship, I didn’t want anyone to think that my loneliness was because something was missing or wrong with me. I need for people to know that it was because of my own choices, which is true, and that I am the only one that has the supremacy of my being. It’s been my freedom and me. Frankly, I had to be honest with my new self and stop convincing the new me that I didn’t want love, and that love didn’t want me.

In the end, I’ve been a girl who thought would have it all, but I ended up being the woman who just wanted it all. Can you recognize the difference between the two? I do and it’s a hard pill to swallow. But this was my reality and I had to let go of the vision I have planned for myself and live in what is happening. It is time for me to ascertain who I really am in this moment, and to face my qualms of love and to no longer consider it will destroy me but instead, to allow that light in and have it repair me.

Quote of the day

This weekend I watched a good movie titled “Stuck In Love”, have you watched it? If not, you should, its on Netflix. It has a good message about forgiveness and allowing yourself to love and be loved.
Many favorite quotes but this was my absolute favorite:

“I never enjoy anything. I’m always waiting for whatever’s next. I think everyone’s like that. Living life in fast forward. Never stopping to enjoy the moment. Too busy trying to rush through everything so we can get on with what we are really supposed to be doing with our lives. I get these flashes of brilliant clarity where for a second I stop and I think “Wait, this is it, this is my life. I better slow down and enjoy it because one day we’re all going to end up in the ground and that’ll be it, we’ll be gone”

Photo of the day


Jessica Simpson got married this weekend to her baby-daddy Eric Johnson – after two kids, four years together, Jessica is looking better than ever! This picture is SO beautiful! Can’t wait to see her wedding dress, I am sure it will be just as beautiful. As we all know this is her second marriage, she was once married to Nick Lachey, who has also remarried to Vanessa Lachey, and they are expecting their second child later this year. What is interesting about their new partners, is that they each found their perfect fit – Jessica and Eric look like Barbie and Ken and Nick and Vanessa look like the brunette version of….Barbie and Ken! Haaa!


For the heck of it, here is a quote from Nick Lachey during a Rolling Stone interview shortly after their divorce:

“It breaks my heart that I couldn’t make Jessica happy. I wanted to be everything to my wife. I wanted her to look at me with love in her eyes, the way she did at the beginning, and have her feel like I was the most wonderful, awe-inspiring man on the planet. And when that stopped, it was the worst feeling in the world.”

Decor: Malibu Dream House” alt=”Indoor-outdoor living at its finest. Wouldn’t you agree?
Source: Chris Cortazzo
” width=”1024″ height=”671″ />” alt=”The formal living room arguably has the best views in the house.
Source: Chris Cortazzo
” width=”1024″ height=”662″ />” alt=”One of the home’s six bedrooms opens out onto a patio.
Source: Chris Cortazzo
” width=”1024″ height=”676″ />” alt=”The infinity pool is definitely a selling point.
Source: Chris Cortazzo
” width=”1024″ height=”670″ />” alt=”Naturally, there’s a sauna, as well as a massage room.
Source: Chris Cortazzo
” width=”1024″ height=”667″ />” alt=”With sliding glass doors, the den makes the most of the ocean views.
Source: Chris Cortazzo
” width=”1024″ height=”666″ />” alt=”The outdoor fire pit is ideal for evening entertaining.
Source: Chris Cortazzo
” width=”1024″ height=”677″ />” alt=”Aside from the sauna and massage rooms, this bathroom suite is the perfect place to relax.
Source: Chris Cortazzo
” width=”1024″ height=”673″ />” alt=”The game room includes a wet bar and pool table.
Source: Chris Cortazzo
” width=”1024″ height=”667″ />” alt=”The closet has plenty of space for handbags, clothes, and shoes.
Source: Chris Cortazzo
” width=”1024″ height=”672″ />” alt=”No surprise, there’s even a movie theater.
Source: Chris Cortazzo
” width=”1024″ height=”670″ />” alt=”The private gym has everything one needs to stay fit.
Source: Chris Cortazzo
” width=”1024″ height=”662″ />” alt=”Elaborate woodwork lends itself to a luxe library and office.
Source: Chris Cortazzo
” width=”1024″ height=”667″ />” alt=”The multimillion-dollar views include those of Santa Monica and Point Dume.
Source: Chris Cortazzo
” width=”1024″ height=”666″ />” alt=”The grand dining room is known for its many televised dinner parties.
Source: Chris Cortazzo
” width=”1024″ height=”671″ />” alt=”The deck has plenty of space for lounging by the pool.
Source: Chris Cortazzo
” width=”1024″ height=”665″ />” alt=”The custom kitchen houses Twitter’s famous fridge.
Source: Chris Cortazzo
” width=”1024″ height=”672″ />

This house is INSANE!!!!!! What a dream home, huh??! It is owed by David & Yolanda Foster. It is up for sale for $28 million. I don’t know why they would even put this up for sale, oh wait, rich people problems, they are on to bigger and better things! The life! I love the coziness of the house, it feels very homey, traditional and full. I love that! The scenery is just amazing to wake up to every day!

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Poem: I Am

Who Am I?
Am I who they want me to be
Am I who I should be
Am I the girl I used to be
Am I the woman I want to be
Who do I oughta be to be happy..within
Me, myself…is all I have to give
But that’s never enough,
Everyone asks for too much.

You are too big, can always be too thin enough.
You are too loud, you aren’t loud enough.
You are too quiet, you aren’t quiet enough.
You are too revered, never wild enough.
You are smart, but can always be dumb enough.

You are too sensitive, you feel too much.
You cry too much, there is an ocean just made of your tears
They don’t want to know your fears
You express too much, must suppress it all.
Gotta pick myself up when I fall.

You are too alone, go somewhere and roam.
Stop staying home, there is a whole new world outside
They don’t know, I appreciate the silence in a world that never stops talking.
I just keep walking
Walked away from these Brooklyn streets filled with too many memories.
Right here on the pier reminds me of Mitchell,
First heartbreak, biggest mistake.
Right over here on 6th ave is filled with moments of Joseph.
Hiding behind a tree just to see his smile,
so no one can see us, found a little park to hide
the leaves would fall, never wanted the season to change
but they changed colors as fast as he changed his mind.
Something so sweet became so sour
I was 18, now I am 24, no kiss since then..
a little back and forth wit him..
I was loyal to my memories of him.

You don’t date, you need a boyfriend.
You love too much, but have no one to love you.
You reveal too much, stop sharing your writings.
You are too sad, stop telling your story
You are too happy, remember your story.

Your butt is getting too big
Your mind is getting smaller
Look in the mirror, this is not the Roe we know.
What to her body, what happened to her soul..
Look at her hair, she doesn’t even do it anymore
We thought she loved fashion, what happened to her passions?
Look at how she dresses, always in black…like she has something to mourn.
She must’a let herself go.
What for, we don’t know, we don’ care.
Her body has gone through surgeries and depression
Scars, starves and all.
All these scars don’t matter, she must never show
She is supposed to be what we want her to be.

She is shy, yet she puts up pictures
Through her phone, she is confident
Her insecurities are loud, she must never let them peak.
Yet, they bring her down with words that hurt, and she takes it all in.
Tell her to stop posting up pictures,
She should be quiet about her life, not everyone needs to know.
Look at how she poses, always with the same angle
Where she goes, where she is and how good her make up looks
Hey, what happened to Roe
She stopped putting up pictures, what is she hiding
Through all her selfless and scenery, her life they will never know.

She works too hard, doesn’t work enough
She moves too fast, still slow enough.
She never sits still, look how lazy she is.
She can’t drive, yet is always where you need her to be
You call, she runs.
Doesn’t call enough, doesn’t agree with us enough.
She tells them what they want to hear, still can never please anyone enough.
Tired of never being enough.

You see, the world has been bringing her down
Strong through it all, they still don’t want to give her credit for being human.

Who am I?
I am what they tell I am
I am what I know I am
I am what I am not
I am what I have been
I am what I will become.

I am all the words that killed me within
I am the pounds I gained,
I am the weight I lost.
I am all the surgeries I had
I am the scars on my body.

Like a Non-Virgin: Making It through this Generation

Have you ever felt like you had nothing to contribute to a conversation? You sit in boredom as your girlfriends swap stories about sex, fretting over late periods, trying to get over their latest boyfriend or getting under a new man. You may find yourself either thinking of different ways to change the never-ending topic of sex in conversations, or you have skillfully mastered the art of tuning them out. But, you won’t be able to escape the moments where your mind will wander of the possibilities of getting older and still being a virgin.

Remember the movie 40-Year-Old-Virgin? That could be me, you begin to ponder. Questions and doubts will always linger about your choice and where it will or won’t lead you. Thoughts like “What if I don’t find the one who will respect my choice and I never get my happily ever after?  Or “Everyone around me is moving on with their lives, being in relationships, getting married and/or having babies, will that ever be me?” We are a rare breed of women who have remained true to ourselves and our choices—we cannot allow our fears as women scare us into having sex.

Yet, we often find ourselves on the outside looking in, wishing we can be as confident as these women who are in control of their bodies and secure with themselves. They exude confidence and after all, men choose them, not you. You want to have that heartbreak, don’t you? You want to have a story to tell and feel as though you fit in. You so badly want someone to love you for you, to love you enough where you don’t have to work on loving yourself. You want someone to reassure you that who you are and what you stand for, is extraordinary and appreciated. You can’t come to grips as to why this world is fueled with sex, why you are judged and made fun of for what you believe.

Being a virgin in this day and age, especially in your 20s, is a lot harder than you think. There are also so many misconceptions about virgins and so many excuses—it’s because she is ugly, she’s religious, she’s a nerd, she’s desperate, she can’t find a boyfriend, she’s a prude, the list goes on. Why does it have to be a negative connotation? I have been told that I am “too pretty and have too nice of a body” to be a virgin. What does that even mean? Newsflash! Virgins can still be sexy!

The ones who have remained virgins have made a choice, just like the ones who chose to give it up.

Every virgin is different and has different reasons for being one. Some are holding off for religious reasons, others simply don’t believe in premarital sex, some just haven’t found someone they trust with that kind of intimacy. They’re all likely putting it on hold because they are waiting for that special person or the right time. You’ll also have those who either regret losing it or have no regrets. In the end, it is nothing to be ashamed of, nor is it something to judge other people for doing or not doing. There is no right or wrong, just what you feel is wrong or right for you.

Just recently there was a girl from Russia who auctioned off her virginity for $27,000. “Money is urgently needed, so I am selling the most treasured thing. I can come to a hotel with a certificate proving my innocence.” The 18 year old wrote on her auction website. How about this, a lovely mother of 14 children in Columbia tried to make ends meet by forcing her daughters into selling their virginity, as soon as they turn 12 years old, for a couple hundred dollars. Remember Natalie Dylan? The 22-year-old, who made headlines in 2009 for auctioning off her virginity on eBay for $3.7 million! She boldly stated “If virginity is considered that valuable, what’s to stop me from benefiting from that? It is mine, after all. And the value of my chastity is one level on which men cannot compete with me. I decided to flip the equation, and turn my virginity into something that allows me to gain power and opportunity from men. I took the ancient notation that a woman’s virginity is priceless and used it as a vehicle for capitalism.” Finally, the beautiful Olympic athlete LoLo Jones received a lot of attention after openly discussing her virginity on Twitter. “Here are two things that happen when you tell a guy you’re a virgin, this is the honest truth. One, you tell them and they say “oh, ok I respect that.” But you can already see in their eyes that they’re thinking, “she’s lying about it, and I’ll crack it.” So, we’ll talk usually one to three months, till they realize I was serious and that it is time for them to exist. When I was 22, 24 it was cute. But 24-29 it’s not cute! You get judged a lot.” She was right on point and unfortunately many of us relate to her experience! She also stated that being a virgin is “harder than training for the Olympics.”[And I thought curing my hair is too hard]

In America there seems to be a stigma with being a virgin, especially if you are in college. We can all agree that our generation is centered on sex and that sex is now a commodity. Sexual relationships, one night stands, friends with benefits and so on are embraced and sex is no longer sacred. Sex is just sex and if you aren’t doing it, society will constantly remind you of why you should. There is also this idea of college being all about partying, drinking, having fun and partaking in sexual activities. So where does the virgin fit in? Why are we frowned upon due to some of us choosing not to indulge in one of the four staples of college life? Some of us have traditional souls while living in a very nontraditional world. Sex is being idolized everywhere, in the media, from our artists and the music we listen to everyday. The movies, our favorite TV shows, social media and in daily conversations. Now more than ever young girls of this generation are feeling the pressure and feel the need to explore their sexuality. In High School it is expected of you to lose it, if you haven’t yet then you’ll be forced to lie about it to spare yourself the judgment and jokes, and when you are a virgin in college, it is extremely hard for people to believe you and they begin to question you’re character. What we fail to realize is that it’s OUR body and no one should make us feel undone and as objects. As women we need to love and learn our bodies, not give it to someone who will learn to love it for their enjoyment. Something that is sacred to our body is also something very powerful that we possess. Don’t let anyone make you scared of that power, take advantage of you or make you change your morals.

Emotional maturity and integrity is a big part of purity as well. As a woman your mindset will be: I believe that I shouldn’t be doing for another man, what only my husband should experience. My body and my heart will belong to him and my soul should only intertwine with my husband. As for the men, too many women should not have experienced the care and affection that only your wife should experience, too many women should not have heard you say the words that only your wife should hear, and too many women should not have received pieces of you, only your wife should be the one to have all of you. You may not be able to give your virginity to your wife, but you can give her your purity. Consider the beauty of a godly women accepting this truth about you and forgiving you anyway, she has waited so long for you to be her first, knowing very well she’ll be your very last. Indeed, you will have respect for a holy woman, but you’ll still go after the hoes. #JustSaying. We won’t even discuss the double standards; instead I want to urge you men, to allow yourself the chance to get to know a girl who will tell you she is a virgin, before you back away from her. Instead of wanting to undress her clothes instantly, take the time to undress her eyes and connect with her spiritually and emotionally.

I can’t tell you not to feel embarrassed or resentful for the judgment you’ve received for abstaining from sex. I can’t tell you how to feel, just like no one can make you do anything you don’t want to do. What I can share with you, is that with growth comes self-acceptance and wisdom. You will soon begin to feel proud of your choices – good or bad, after all they made you who you are today. I commend you for your strength, patience and perseverance. We can’t wait for the world to change; we sure as hell can’t try to change ourselves to fit in it either.

As women we cannot allow our fears and expectations put us in a halt into becoming the women we want to be, not who we think we should be. Our society will forever remind us that we aren’t skinny or pretty enough, we aren’t sexual or prude enough. Being accomplished isn’t being a certain age where you beat the expiration date of being a wife, mother or even being sexually active. Accomplish your dreams, degrees and stand up for your beliefs.  There is so much pressure for us women, can you imagine for these young girls today? We need to guide and influence them to make better choices and be aware of the consequences. Yet, how can we? When we can be guilty ourselves by hiding behind our choices and shying away from admitting we are virgins. How can we explain it to them when they are watching famous women like Kim Kardashian, Nicki Minaj and Miley Cyrus be rewarded and celebrated for oozing sex appeal, getting naked, releasing sex tapes and dressing provocatively. Look at how many young girls are becoming teenage mothers, most of them are so fearful of losing the men in their life, not realizing they are losing themselves. We need to find our voices, be heard in this generation and not allow for our bodies and our choices with it define who we are. Every girl whether she is a virgin or not thinks about sex, let us take control of our thoughts and be reminded of our power. As the sex-driven world we live in today is telling us everything that is wrong with us, let’s create our own world and chant everything that is right with us!

Being a 24-year-old virgin, I must admit that there is something gratifying to be able to say that I am still a virgin. The reaction is always disbelief, but after much convincing it turns into shock. A lot of questions are asked and a huge level of respect is welcomed. They also learn that virgins don’t have to look a certain way, goes back to the misconceptions! Older adults congratulate you with a pat on the back; you are basically getting petted like an animal for good behavior! Adults your age are amazed and share with you if they do or don’t regret loosing theirs and it opens the door for great conversations. Young girls look up to you and men are delightfully intrigued.

Contrary to some people’s opinions about virgins, we don’t have a hard time going on dates, but we do have a hard time finding a guy with good morals and is willing to wait. Some of you are still hopeful in meeting a guy who will appreciate and respect your choice (good luck with that boo-boo, #justsaying). If you do, I would tell him from the beginning that you are not sexually active in any way. Guys automatically assume that none of us aren’t, therefor they don’t even ask! Instead they choose to take the lead when they feel is right, do not mislead them, it is deceitful.  A lie of omission isn’t a great way to begin a relationship. If everything seems to be going well, maybe on date 3 or 4, casually mention it to him. If he sticks with you after you drop a bomb on him, you have found yourself a keeper with good intentions and who is aware of your standards. If he bails, hold off on your grenade, and say good riddance! (I mean…what did you expect!? #Kidding #ButNotKidding)

Please don’t be in a huge hurry to catch up to your sex-capading girlfriends, who think they are Samantha from Sex & the City. Right now, as absurd as it may be, being a virgin may feel like a heavy burden but being sexually active is undeniably accompanied by an abundant of heavier consequence. Do not settle, be patient, know that you are worth waiting for and retain your innocence; because once it’s gone, you can never get it back…unless you do vaginal rejuvenation.

“Being a virgin in this and age is something to be proud of. You’re like a unicorn”! – Community, TV Show.

Living with Psoriasis

Living With Psoriasis:


Why Me?! Being diagnosed with psoriasis ruined my life. Is that too dramatic?! Well, it’s true.

Having psoriasis stole my self-esteem, it took away my confidence. As a women, we have enough pressures that society has piled on us. So why on earth, did it have to be me diagnosed with this scaly, itchy, bloody, painful patches on my scalp, ears and now under my chest. Let’s see here: excruciating menstrual cramps every month that make me curse the day I was born, check! Weight and skin insecurities, double-check! I mean…as a woman, I have enough to deal with!


I thought I paid my dues with a hideous deformed scar on my lower back from Pilonidal disease that lead me to twelve surgeries and many emergency procedures. It’s been a few years and to this day I can’t bring myself to look at my scar. The emotional scar from it I have is a lot deeper than my wounds. I already have thoughts of: how will my future husband accept this? Do I show and tell him before our wedding day? If that’s not bad enough, I also have hypothyroidism, I won’t indulge in it’s symptoms of mood swings, depression, hair loss, constant fatigue and so on. I get it, God. I do, but through all my anxiety attacks, operations and symptoms of Hypothyroidism, I can accept it all expect for Psoriasis.


Psoriasis is my biggest battle. I have healed after every surgery, I have moved past every anxiety attack, I am able to cover my scars and face every symptom and look forward to a better tomorrow but I can’t conceal my patches and deteriorating self-esteem. I am constantly aware that anyone can notice and be ready to explain this disease from everyone’s opinions and assumptions. Do they think I have poor hygiene? Do they think I don’t moisturize? It’s a constant array of questions and doubts.


I was in High School when I started to notice itchy bumps on my scalp. It wasn’t dandruff and it was bloody and painful. As I got older, it kept getting worse. It spread all over my scalp, behind my ears and inside my ears. Occasionally, I get a break out on my fingers and on my back and most recently I discovered a patch under my right chest, that has now become the size of China! My mother has spent thousands of dollars on medicated shampoos, medications, ointments and we have yet to find something that truly works. There is one medicated cream named Clobex, that I use, but it’s a hit or miss. Sometimes it works and other times it doesn’t help control it. On top of it, it’s also super expensive and the insurance barely covers it. Doctors have constantly explained to me that it is controllable and not curable. I have even had fluid injection shots in my head to help but still, along with so many psoriasis patients we are waiting for a miracle. No one understands it. I hate going to hair salons because I get ignorant hairdressers making me feel like I don’t take care of myself and horrible as a woman. I had one hair dresser refuse to cut my hair because he thought it was contagious.  I could see him wince in disgust as he parted my hair and tiny flakes and scabs were everywhere. I am always being told that I have dry skin and made aware that I have blood patches all over my scalp. I have received lectures about how I wasn’t washing out my shampoo well enough and how I should be doing this or doing that. I have this overwhelming feeling that this is all my fault and I needed to figure out a way to fix it. It’s not only painful but it’s embarrassing. Those bloody patches on my body are stamped with daggers in my heart. How do I allow myself to grasp the thought of never having normal skin? I love to wear black clothing but I am always so alert of the white flakes that sprinkles all over. I love to put my hair in a high bun, but you can see the marks and the red patches on my ears are visible. I still style my hair and wear dark colors that I want, hoping that if I can pretend that I am aware and confident about it, then it’ll go away.


They want to judge you, they want to ask you if it’s contagious, you feel unpretty and un-womanly, but we can’t keep defending ourselves and explaining this disease, for those who are unaware: basically, my immune system attacks itself, thus causing my skin to grow at a faster rate which leaves me with the patches and joint pains, it’s an overproduction of skin cells. The condition leaves 40 per cent of sufferers embarrassed, 22 per cent depressed and seven per cent suicidal. Patients also have a higher risk of fertility issues, heart disease, diabetes, arthritis, obesity and cancer. It is also NOT contagious if you touch me. Awareness is contagious and although millions of people have it, no one is knowledgeable about it. It doesn’t just affect the person physically, but it emotionally takes a toll.


I am also learning to change my attitude. Every time I visit a new hair stylist, I have to feel a swell of nerves as they comb through my hair and massage my scalp. I used to apologize and explain ahead of time for having a skin condition. Then, recently, I stopped saying anything at all. I figured they were professionals and therefore just had to deal with it and should be knowledgeable about it. In fact, I just colored my hair a few days ago. It is something I have always wanted to do but never wanted to, to avoid my psoriasis. I usually try not to look at the hair stylist as they brush or cut my hair, because I am afraid of their expressions, of course, the dreaded topic came up, the stylist asked me if I knew I had patches that were bleeding on my scalp, and as I was about to answer her, I see a flake shaped of a heart on my thigh and I looked up and for once, didn’t feel the need to explain myself.


So if you suffer from Psoriasis, let’s have the mindset of survivors. We are surviving every day, we also have to accept that our body might never heal, but we will never be able to bring true healing into our lives by allowing this toxic energy. Truthfully, as I write this, and as my scalp itches me and as I leave a trace of white flakes everywhere I go, I am still unable to accept my condition. Along with my deformed scar on my back, a scar on the left side of my face, daily insecurities as a girl, I also have to face insecurities about my skin and it’s condition and that affects my relationships. Men have a hard time accepting your flaws and feeling as though you aren’t perfect. I’ve had to deal with people asking me how do I expect to find a man who will accept me, but I don’t allow it to alter my hopes of one day finding someone who will not only accept me in every way, but appreciate me and realize that my scars all tell a story, just like art and look at me as their master-piece. This has ddestroyed my self-confidence and makes me resent my body. Self-acceptance is something I need to work on and I realize that this is what is flooding my cells with self-hatred and adding stress, which causes flare ups. I feel like I have chicken pox on a daily basis and I feel isolated, that’s not okay with me! It is not easy and I am not going to pretend that it is. I struggle with this every day. But you know what? We all have our demons to battle, insecurities and we are all fighting against ourselves and others. I don’t want to let my skin define who I am and how I feel. I have a long journey ahead of me, this is a battle I will never win. Do I still feel ashamed? Yes. You know what else? It has shaped me and has made me a good judge of character. It has taught me to appreciate those who don’t judge me but accept me, flaws, patches and all. Psoriasis doesn’t have me, I have psoriasis. It doesn’t control me, I control it and I will no longer hide from it, but I will try my best to live with it!

“You, yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection.” – Buddha

Poem of the Day

I don’t like what I see…
I look in the mirror
and picture someone else that I wanna be.
Tell me, how to get rid of all these insecurities.
Show me, how to love myself unconditionally.
What do I have to be to be happy?
I try to be myself but my insecurities eat me alive.
I wish I had a beautiful smile.
Inside I am torn apart..
My body has to be a work of art,
but it’s not.
I try to fill the voids that I try to avoid.
I don’t have the perfect skin,
I try to love myself within.
I get anxiety when photos are taken of me
I swear my nerves can give me hives.
I know it can be annoying,
but it’s me, myself I am destroying.
I tell myself to just let it be.
I promise you, I try.
Compliments don’t mean a thing,
I appreciate them, but I can’t believe them.
The voices in my head takes over, and it stings.
I put up all those walls,
I’ll push you away before you get too close.
I can’t deal with someone looking at me,
Don’t point out my flaws, I plea.
But I know my heart is what is really beautiful.
My father should’ve been there to love me,
trust me, in every way, for a girl it is crucial.
Can you teach me how to open up to love,
when I never grew up with it?
I try to be the perfect daughter,
I would go to any length to prove myself worthy.
I think too much, don’t I?
I am terrified of letting anyone in.
I know when I love myself,
I’ll allow others to love me.
I know, I know. I am my own worst enemy.
I don’t like my nose,
I hate that I have the same pose.
I don’t know how to embrace
I hate the scar on my face.
I don’t like my eyes.
I hate I am not the perfect size.
I can go on, but I’ll be withdrawn.
I don’t like who I am,
I am not who I want to be.
I don’t like what I see,
pardon me for my honesty…
Rowan; @the__row

- Another recent poem of mine!!


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