I recently watched the film adaptation for the book, The Fault in Our Stars written by NYT Bestselling author, John Green. I never realized how much of an influence that man [and his brother] had on my life until I watched it and I was just completely blown away. Continue reading

Grey Matters


My brain works a little bit differently because of this thing I have called depression. I don’t like talking about it much because people tend to treat you differently when the find out. Either they start treating you like your fragile and could break at the slightest provocation which is ridiculous. I haven’t shattered in at least a week and a half. Or, they decide it’s not a real problem because they can’t see it, or maybe they’ve dealt with worse and it makes me seem weak.

The fact is, sometimes I see myself as weak because I can still get out of bed and I have someone very close to me who dealt with this thing to the point where they couldn’t. Now that’s a real struggle. I just deal with nasty inner voices saying I’m worthless. Who cares? Except, that’s not what it’s about.

There are chemical imbalances going on that make my brain not work correctly.

So sometimes there will be a guy that I really like, but because my brain doesn’t have the right chemical stuff going on, instead of feeling all tingly every time I see him, it actually makes me feel disgusting and repulsive. I start to convince myself that I could never be anything more than a joke to him, so even if he does start acting like he reciprocates, my brain tells me it’s all in my head, that he could never see me that way. Then I give up.

Or, when there’s a new job prospect and I have to apply, sometimes I don’t. Especially if it’s one that I want really bad. Not because I’m lazy. I’ll sit and pour over my resume for hours and stare at the listing until my eyes burn. I’ll write and rewrite my cover letter. But I don’t apply because I’ll convince myself that there’s no point. That they’ll never hire me so why even bother.

I love talking to my friends, as most people do. That’s why they’re friends, right? Except after my conversations with my friends, I’ll think back through it and pick apart every word that came out of my mouth and convince myself that all I did was annoy them. That the 2 hour conversation we had was nothing more than them not knowing how to get me to shut up. Then every single time I want to talk to them, I realize it’s always me going to them and I stop.

Do you notice a pattern here? I give up, I stop, I don’t even try. That’s my real battle – making myself move even when I’m terrified.

I’m not telling you all this so you’ll think I’m crazy. If you know me, that cat is already out of the bag. I’m writing this because I want you to understand. I want you to understand people like me. I want you to know that I’m a little messy and broken and it’s okay, you just have to bare with me for a second sometimes. I want people like me to know that we’re not alone; that someone else understands the battle going on behind your eyes and I’m proud of you for fighting back.

I’m So [Not] Done


I just finished the last paper I will ever write for school. It’s submitted and I’m officially done. All that’s left to do is walk across the stage in a week. 

But I’m still not done.

It’s the holiday season which means for people my age, there’s a lot of dread. I mean, we’re all excited to stock up on gift cards and eat real food for a while, but with that comes those questions.

“Do you have a job?” -No.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” -No.

“Do you think you’ll ever settle down and get married?” -*beats head against nearest wall*

“When are you going to go back to school? A masters never hurt anyone…” -*runs away screaming*

“Do you think kids are in your future?” -I’m sure I’ll come across them from time to time.

You get the picture. In a lot of ways, these questions seem to remind us of where we fall short in everyone else’s eyes. Sure I graduated from college, but what good is that when you work part time at theater or a restaurant? And sure I’ve learned to be independent, but all most people see is that I’m alone and apparently that’s concerning.

Well I say keep the questions coming. Sure, they suck to answer because quite frankly, I don’t know the answer and I don’t think I will anytime soon. But they remind me that there’s more to life than what I’ve experienced. I’m only 22; the world is in front of me. I will never be done.

So dearest family, if any of you read this, thanks for being annoying with all of your questions. Also, feel free to use this as a guide for this year’s holiday gatherings, you know, to save time and all. 

And yay for graduation!

I don’t know what to title this.


You know what I really fear? Like, truly down to my core? That I’m not good enough. I made a post sort of about that recently, but today I’ve been face to face with that fear. You know what? I would rather face a room full of Aragorn sized spiders(what up Harry Potter reference!) than deal with the knowledge that I’m not good enough.

I spent 4 and half years getting to this point where I could follow my dreams and here I am and what if I’m not good enough?

I’ve recorded my air checks, I’m working on a head shot, and I’ve edited my resume until I can’t stand to look at it anymore. The only thing left is to send it all in. But once I do that, I’ve done all I can. The information is in their hands and either I’m good enough or I’m not.

That’s effing terrifying!

I could have wasted thousands of dollars and 4 and a half years on a career for which I may not be good enough. I’m officially jumping on the college-is-pointless train. At least until I get a job…

/end quarter-life crisis rant

Just Becca


Something you may notice about my life if you know me in person is that I love Harry Potter. One of my tattoos is an HP reference, my car tag is an HP reference, and 80% of the tshirts I wear include an HP reference. My twitter handle is Just Becca, and it’s sort of a reference to when Hagrid tells Harry he’s a wizard. Harry says, “But I can’t be a wizard. I’m just Harry.” But it’s also sort of a reference to a battle I fight every day.

I don’t think of myself as anything extraordinary. I have pretty days, but I’m not beautiful. I have moments where I seem really smart, but I’m not incredibly intelligent. I can be sorta funny, but I’m not hilarious. I’m nothing special. I’m just me. And in the terms of this world, that will never be enough. I will never be enough by this world’s standards.

Because I’m nothing special, and I am fully aware of this, it’s really easy to let demons in that take it to the extreme. Especially when those demons show up as real live people that say real live things like, “You’re such a fat ass.” or “I wish you’d kill yourself.”

But the demons in my mind are the worst, I think, because my brain is super logical. They’re the ones that convince me that I’m not just “not beautiful,” I’m repulsive. They convince me that I’m not just “sorta funny,” I’m ridiculous and making myself look like an idiot for trying. They’re the ones that convince me that side glances mean someone has noticed yet another flaw.

The thing is, these are just demons. Because I am beautifully flawed. And I wasn’t made for this world. So I can be just Becca in this world, and that’s totally fine because in the one after this, I will be extraordinary.