Anything about Everything

  My childhood bedroom wasn’t anything extravagant. But it was mine. The walls changed colors once — to  one very committed season of bubblegum pink. Not soft blush. Not subtle pastel. Bubblegum. Pink. The furniture got rearranged depending on whatever phase I was in. And at one point — in what can only be described as a deeply committed life choice — I cut out every single photo of my favorite boy bands from magazines and created a full border around the top of my walls. Yes. A border.  All the way around. Commitment has never been my issue. What I didn’t consider was the future of said border. Specifically, the year my dad graciously offered to repaint my room while I was away at school — and had to peel down every carefully taped, teenage-delusion-fueled square inch of that masterpiece. I’m pretty sure I got a phone call. I’m also pretty sure I was informed, with colorful language, that the border had to go. Honestly? Fair. That room held e...

I value peace more than excitement. There was a time when I thought intensity meant depth. When loud meant passionate. When constant motion felt productive. Now? I value calm. I value conversations that don’t feel like competitions. Friendships that don’t require decoding. Love that doesn’t make you anxious. I value privacy more. Not secrecy — just sacredness. Not everything meaningful needs an audience. I value consistency over grand gestures. Rest over proving something. Discipline over motivation. And I don’t value what I used to. Name brands don’t impress me. Flashy lifestyles don’t move me. Curated perfection doesn’t convince me. I don’t need expensive to feel secure. I don’t need visible to feel valuable. I don’t need attention to feel important. I value character. Integrity. Self-awareness. Five years ago, I valued being chosen. Now I value choosing well. Peace over performance. Depth over display. Substance over status. If it only lo...

I don’t need a lot of friends. I need honest ones. The kind who tell you the truth — kindly. Who don’t flatter you just to keep the peace. Who don’t disappear when things get uncomfortable. A meaningful friendship isn’t loud. It’s consistent. It’s knowing your name isn’t brought up in rooms you’re not in — unless it’s defended. It’s being able to disagree without the relationship feeling fragile. It’s accountability without humiliation. It’s selflessness. Not dramatic. Not performative. Just the quiet kind. Taking turns. Making space. Listening without waiting to talk. It’s conversations that don’t revolve around other people. It’s maturity — knowing not every thought needs an audience. Not every story needs repeating. Not every opinion needs to be shared. Real friendship feels safe. Not because nothing hard is ever said — but because you trust the intention behind it. It’s mutual effort. Mutual respect. Mutual growth. Not convenience. Not prox...