I Love Me

Unwanted hair

Stretch marks

Too skinny

Too fat

Broad shoulders

Chicken legs


Bad hair day

These are the things we loathe when we look in the mirror. We look at all of these things and wonder why we don’t look like someone else, how will we ever be Instagram worthy? You’ve thought this and you’ve seen the people in the magazines or on bug screens and you compare yourself to what you’ll never amount to.

We all do it, I’m not sure how we started or if we’ll ever stop.

I am a victim of this myself. My body has changed and I don’t always like what I see. It’s a constant struggle to remind myself that I am worthy of more than self deprecating remarks and constant comparisons. I earned my stretch marks and was gifted beautiful children. My scars tell stories of vulnerability and a mistake (or two) with a quesadilla press. The hair on my body is beyond my control and instead of conforming to a standard of beauty that is damn near unattainable I tell myself it’s okay to go without shaving my legs, do people really have nothing better to do than to look down at me for the hair on my legs?

The clothes I wear and the style I desire do not always go hand in hand but my personality and human nature are far more interesting. I want to talk to people about what matters and not what everyone is else looks like.

We constantly compare ourselves to others, I don’t know how we started or if we’ll ever stop.

I’m learning to love myself and to do so I’ve had to look at the things I don’t like and ask myself why I don’t like them.

Were you teased about it?

Has society deemed in undesirable?

Have you beaten that tiny little part of you to a point where it’s become the enemy?

I’ve done all of these. I’ve done extensive damage to myself by continuously saying I’m not good enough.

Oh but my beautiful friends we are good enough.

We are capable of love

Our laughs carry infections joy

Our body’s comfort others when they are low

Our souls connect with others and they say I love you.

If we can love another we need to make it a point to love ourselves.

These things we have conditioned ourselves to hate likely mean nothing to those around us. These people are happy we are alive, that our paths have crossed. These people are too busy dealing with their own insecurities to be looking down on you.

Tell people how you feel.

Tell them your insecurities.

Tell then how you feel about them.

We do not take enough time in a day to remind people how important they truly are in our lives.

If we make it a priority to have an open conversation with the people we love, we could learn a lot more about others as well as ourselves.

If you’ve gotten this far, thank you for let be vulnerable with you.

Continue working to love yourself, you’ll get there I promise.

Thank you for being in this moment.

Until next time.


Write A Little Love Note.

This is a work of fiction, and nothing more.

Someone once told me that love was the best thing in the world to have.

I wanted to badly to believe that for a very long time

Meeting people, hoping they were my love.

Praying they were my love.

Dreaming they were my love.

They were always my undoing.

I would cling like a leach a sucker on each end.

Sucking one dry of all he had.

I did not understand why they all left.

What wasn’t there to like about me?

Possibly the fact that I am needy, complicated, and obsessive.

I live in a la la land, a beautiful delusional land where hearts are warm and everyone wants the same thing.


I have warped my mind, obsessing it with one little tiny thing.

I have forgotten about everything else.

No one cares to see me any longer, I cannot blame them.

I am not in touch with reality.

Someone once told me that love was the best thing in the world to have.

I cannot believe Love is real.

Catch Up and Move On

Purl the right side.

Knit the wrong side.

Eighty stitches per row.

Blue yarn.

Green Yarn.

As you can tell, I’ve been doing a lot of knitting. Not many projects, just a blanket, and it’s been a really exciting project. For some reason it makes me feel really great, and I suppose that’s due to the fact that I am creating something. I am getting away from the world, and I’m making something. It’s an amazing feeling.

And maybe today I should be talking about my mom because it’s mothers day, but I just can’t do that.

So instead I will talk about knitting, or the mass amount of Grey’s Anatomy I’ve been watching.

I’ll talk about the twenty mile bike ride I went on, and how I slammed my leg into my pedal.

Today I will talk about things that aren’t so personal, because, well I cannot rip off the band-aid, and tell you all the beautiful things a survivor can say.

I cannot tell you that today is a good day, because today is an agonizing day, today I mourn what many others get to celebrate. 

I cannot tell you that I was sad the moment I woke up and realized I wouldn’t be making my mother breakfast in bed, as I’d done every year for a very long time. 

I cannot tell you that today is a day where I reflect on my pain, because today, I am soaking in my pain. 

And I don’t need anyone to tell me it’s going to be okay, no one is going to call me today and ask me how I’m doing.

I’m fine with that. 

People say it’s good to talk about things, get the sad things out of your head. I just cannot. 

My mother was a person that not many got the opportunity to meet, and I got to meet her. 

Not only did I get to meet her, but I got to love this woman. This woman who never really knew how amazing she was. I got to meet a woman who struggled, a woman who lived a very difficult life, yet every day woke up just for me. I got to meet a woman who knew what love was, who knew what family was. I knew a woman who taught me to be a woman. 

I met a woman who was taken from me too soon. Had I known she was going to go away I would have made sure she knew all the great things about her. People loved my mom, she was the one who could make anyone feel better when they felt like their world was in shambles. She would help anyone out in a moments notice, and yet for some reason, my mom had no one. My mom didn’t have anyone helping her when our world was in shambles, and it was in shambles for a long time.

If I would have known that I was never going to be able to talk to her again I would have said all the right things.

I would have told her that she was beautiful, the prettiest woman who ever lived. I would have told her that I will never meet anyone as strong as her, I will never see that fight in anyone else’s eyes the way I saw it in her. I would have said that I appreciated everything she gave up to make sure that my life was worth living, even though I only needed her in order to be happy. I would have told her that no one is ever going to be my best friend the way she was, no one will make make laugh, or cry, or scream the way she did. I would have told her that she could say anything, and I’d only be mad for a second, because every second we have in precious. 

Part of me doesn’t want to share this with you. Actually, all of my is screaming not to post this for the world to see. But then she wouldn’t be seen, and her whole life, no one saw her. No one saw that beautiful, strong woman that I loved with every inch of me, so I will not share my mother with you. 

I will share the impact she had on me. Knowing that woman, sharing her blood, her spirit, well, it’s made me into a person worth seeing. She taught me all the things no one could teach her, and I wish I could share that all with her now, but instead I will share with you. My fallen angel, turned me into something worth sharing.


Simple Excuses

Take my fingertips, and press them against your


Take my palms, and press them against your


Take my sight, and show me your


Let’s just make this quick and take every part of me

and show me every part of you.

I want to feel what you’ve felt

I want to hear what you’ve been told

I want to see what you’ve faced.

But I’m blind 



to everything I’ve ever thought I could love.

So I’m sorry but right now is not a good time.

My fingertips hurt and my palms are too sweaty.

Maybe if you come back I’ll be around to try again.

We both know this is never going to end.

It will always be a dance between our souls.

And do you remember that one time I told you to never let go?

I’m sorry that you did, and I’m sorry I let you.

But this is where we are now, and I don’t mean to offend you, it’s time to let go. 

We are forever bound this we know, so do me a favor

Go see the world

Read a book

Meet a girl

Save a life.

Go live this life and I promise you’ll see 

My happiness in every kindness you ever receive. 

I’m not yours but I’m forever there, in that place when everything was simple and fair. 

Dear You

Your love looks like a beautiful place to be. I say this because your love looks no different than mine.

The only difference is that I can marry whoever I want.

Seriously, I could go marry the next guy who comes walkin’ my way.

If I can do that (more than once).

Why can’t you marry the person you love?

If I’m being completely frank, that seems incredibly illogical and stupid to me.

If anything I shouldn’t be allowed to marry people.

That being said let me tell you something.

Your rights are your rights.

Your love is your love.

You are no different then the rest of us assholes.

If you can’t marry the person you love, then I won’t either.

I am no “better” than you, therefore I will not give myself something that you deserve just as much as the next guy or gal.

I Can’t Stop.

I’m not screaming at anyone.

I’m not acting on impulse.

I’m not laying in bed watching sad movies and feeling sorry for myself.

None of that today.

I’m just really pissed off, and for some reason today just feels like a bad day to be pissed off.

Not to mention I’m hung over, again.

The “adult” figures in my life have expressed their concern, but honestly I really don’t care… at all.

Why would I want to sit around and do nothing, when others are drinking and smoking?

I mean obviously I’m not making the best life choices most days, a year ago that would matter.

Unfortunately, time kept moving, I stopped caring, and so did everyone else.

Today just sucks, I don’t like it.

Most days I go for that “positive outlook” on life, ya know try to make other people see the good that I already see.

Except today is not most days, today is a day where I sit around and briefly acknowledge all the issues I’m not yet ready to face.

Ever do that? Know there’s an issue in your life you should take care of, but you don’t know how therefore you don’t?

It’s fucking annoying.

So here’s what I do, I smoke a bowl, take a shot and go back to bed. Because being intoxicated is so much easier than living with all this pain.

If you talked to anyone I know, they would tell you I like to make light of my situations, and I do.

That’s also because it’s just so much easier to be funny about it, than to let anyone know how much this really hurts.

It hurts in ways I didn’t know I could hurt. It hurts so bad that no self destruction would help.

You can’t inflict enough pain, to forget about losing someone.

And you sure as hell can’t do anything to bring them back.

Love Lasts

He’s my best friend, a helping hand, a good listener, a comedian, and the love of my life. His name is Christopher and I met him my Freshman year of high school. I knew he was someone I could get along with, I didn’t know how to approach him because every time I saw him I’d get butterflies in my stomach and my head would fill with all these worries: “What if he thinks I’m weird?” “What if he’s a rude guy?” “What if I say something stupid?”

The first time I ever talked to him didn’t go the way I thought it would go at all. All I’ll tell you is I was crabby and in a bad mood when I walked into our history class (late) and then I accidentally dropped all my stuff on the floor. He helped me pick it up and then I thanked him, sat down and within seconds I touched some gum under my desk. I ended up talking to him about it and we pretty much just hit it off from there.

The point of this post is not to tell you how I met him, even though if I went into detail you guys might think it was a tacky (yet cute) story, but as I said, that’s not the point. The point is he’s an amazing person, not just as my boyfriend or my friend but as a person in general. He’s so caring and fun to be around, he knows what to do when someone is down and he’s always there to give a helping hand. I’m a very lucky girl to have someone as kind and genuine as him. This picture was taken almost two years ago and man has a lot happened in the past two years. Not all of it has been great but I would rather have gone through all of those hardships with him than anyone else. He’s been there for me through a lot in the past couple of years and although I express my emotions much more than he does I’m always there for him whenever I can be.

I’m so lucky to even know someone like this boy. So many people say all the time “You’re too young to know what love is.” or “It’s never going to last.” and things of that nature. I just always wonder why adults think they know that for a fact? I know for a fact that I love this boy with my whole heart. I know that no matter what happens he will always have a very important big place in my heart.

So Chris, if you’re reading this I just want to say this to you:

Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. Thank you for showing me that life does get better. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for being you.


Love Always,

Mesa Mendoza