To All the Men I’ve Loved Before: Thank You, Next

Tom. Trevor. Kyle. David.

That feels so fucking good.

You see, I never expected to write a post in which I used your actual names. I envisioned a blog I’d title something vague—Letters to My Exes and Ohs, for example—and use specific memories or words I thought you’d recognize to indicate which ex I was referencing in that letter.

But then Ariana Grande came through with a song that empowered me to speak to you directly (I’ll pause for your laughter over the fact that a pop song influenced me to write today. Welcome to the mind of Kendall Fisher! Lol). And even better—this song is almost exactly the way I’ve written all those letters to you in my head time and time again.

Society has set this precedent that you’re supposed to hate your exes. But I’ve never agreed with that.

All I’ve ever wanted to say was…Thank you.

So grab a glass of wine or whiskey or tequila (you all differ in taste). Here’s a toast to you: Continue reading

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A Letter to You, Sunshine

Dear Sunshine,

Two years ago on Valentine’s Day I started a post dedicated to you, but I never quite finished it. I don’t know if it’s because I couldn’t find the courage or the right timing, or if I simply wasn’t entirely confident in how I wanted to go about writing something so important to me—to perfectly embody all that you are.

And tonight it hit me: It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be from the heart. Everything you do shines from your heart.

So, here’s how the post began:

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I Was Afraid of Your Judgment and That’s Why I Didn’t Write for 6 Months

 

It’s been six months since I sat down and found the courage to write what’s really been going on in my life.

It’s certainly not because I didn’t have anything to write about, and it’s absolutely not because I lost my passion for writing. In fact, I’ve had to feed my appetite for blogging by posting little thoughts and poems on my Instagram account when I just couldn’t bring myself to put it all out there.

The truth is, I was afraid.

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The Art of…Being Alone

lonely2

It’s so intriguing how the universe works to paint the picture of our lives.

Today marks a Leap Year, which only happens every four years. Looking at my canvas last Leap Year, in 2012, my portrait includes me, happily in love with my ex-boyfriend, having just begun dating a few weeks prior (on Valentine’s Day, in case you don’t recall). If I had to guess, that picture was filled with pinks and yellows and bright colors of love and happiness and new beginnings.

Come Leap Year 2016 and my painting has changed tones: my canvas has faded, perhaps from spending too much time resting comfortably in the sun, taking on new shades of color and leaving space for touching up—or perhaps, for a whole new picture overall.

Let me explain.

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