If you didn’t notice, I took a much needed blogging sabbatical. Everything I previously loved, I now proceeded to possess a deep hatred for. A part of me died… The passion and desire I felt was flickering out.

Work has kept me busy, different opportunities toying with my heart and wanderlusty ways. I couldn’t form the right words together, but why bother anyways when today, it seems all people care about are pretty pictures. The superficiality of everything irritated my moral fiber.

One day at work in Downtown Dallas, there was a protest about the DRC, war, and rape. The reaction was a knee jerker as all people could focus on was the fact that protesters were interrupting their last minute Christmas shopping. Then, a friend’s father passed away, and I skipped multitude of holiday parties to hold my parents hands and enjoy their company. I couldn’t fathom what they were going through as I provided my condolences. The times I put aside my fun-loving ways and chose to be work responsible and in seclusion; it apparently rubbed a dear friend the wrong way to the point of distention. Everyone has seemed to take our liberties and lives for granted. I don’t want to become one of those people. One of those vapid people that just have their heads so high in the clouds or so far up someone’s ass that you lose all sense of your surroundings and a grounded version of reality.

The love I held onto for so long finally floated away like a balloon that slipped from my fingers into the atmosphere’s reach. His pessimism and negativity were overbearing and our last conversation consisted of his usual over promising and under delivering. He always conveniently found a way to maneuver himself back into my life when I was on top of my game and happier than ever; only just to knock my life off kilter and spread his vitriol until I just didn’t feel a thing for him anymore .

Then I started to fall in love with someone else. A feeling I hadn’t felt in a year and a half, well let me rephrase… A feeling I didn’t allow myself to feel in years. He was chivalrous, intelligent, handsome, successful, uplifting… We had endless adventures, passion, and friendship. In the end, he made me a better person, even up to the day that I knew he was a cheater. So, my impenetrable walls became a little higher after the fact and I wised up to realize. I gave myself 2 days to sulk, bitch, moan, and cry. Anymore than that was just wasting time. So, maybe I am checking-in one emotional baggage these days, but that’s a lot better than the 5-6 overweight bags I was lugging around forever.

But the mean reds are out of my system, I’m back to business and back on track.

Fashion is a form of self-expression, and the personal attacks were just hitting below the belt. Do I mind? Most of the time, not so much; however, on those rare grey days where it felt like a page out of Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, the naysayers slowly chipped away my desire to share. I write because I enjoy it. I write because others tell me they enjoy it. I write to connect with others, to relate, to inspire, and to find some similar ground in this crazy world. In the end, I just want people to be able to take away something. A style idea, some new hip place to check out, a recipe to share, a love story, a dating lesson learned, to laugh at my misfortune, or just some visual or verbal gratification that resonates for a bit. All I am saying is sure, some days you’re not going to agree with my sense of style, or perhaps my writing, opinions, or attitude. I’m human, I make mistakes; hell sometimes a few too many.

So thank you to those who have stood by, to those who have inspired and encouraged me along the way, and also thank you to the difficult ones that have pushed me to new limits and out of my comfort zone.