Life with an undiagnosed learning disability

April 25, 2019April 25, 2019 by zoe_dimitra ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you read something, the simplest thing maybe, and you just have no idea what it’s even talking about?

Or you read something out loud, just to realize that words you said weren’t the words on the page?

Or you read a sentence you wrote, exactly how you have it in your head and even read out loud to yourself, and post it to social media just to realize that some words never actually made it in the post?

Or you say a word(s) or phrase you believed was right, just to find out the word(s) you said is actually similar to the correct word(s) or phrase?

Welcome to my life.

All my life, I’ve struggled to the point of tears because I couldn’t understand words, sentences and passages. In elementary school I was always placed in the reading groups with the easier books to read but even then, I couldn’t read them. I didn’t understand them. I didn’t know what was happening.

In forth grade, the teacher told my mom that word problems in math were hard for me. I couldn’t understand what was being asked from me. I got a little bit of help but it didn’t help long term. She reassured my mom, as did every teacher I had before, that I’d be fine and would grow out of any reading issues I had.

I struggled really hard. I was behind all my peers. I was being pushed along without any teacher recognizing the signs that I needed help academically.

But here’s where the education system failed me.

In fifth-grade, my mom had a meeting with my teacher. It was after I said for the first time out loud, “I don’t get it.” Sitting at the kitchen table in tears because no matter how much my family tried to help, I just couldn’t get it. My mom told my teacher something wasn’t right, refusing to take the excuse, “She’ll grow out of it,” again.

My mom asked my teacher for help who, eloquently, said no. She did tell my mom that I could get tested for an IEP, individualized education program.

An IEP helps a child in public schools to succeed with personalized plans according to their learning habits and learning disabilities, which are diagnosed by therapists and experts.

But she told my mom I shouldn’t get an one because I would always be labeled as my IEP, that it would follow me all throughout my years in school and that’s what would define me as a student. She advised that I’d be fine and will grow out of it. My teacher said it wouldn’t be a good idea to get tested anyways. “It’s not worth it,” the teacher said.

My mom was furious, and I feel like that is a huge understatement to how she actually felt. Refusing to give up on me and unwilling to let me go on struggling, she took matter into her own hands. She did what a mother had to do.

My mom found a learning center 15 minutes away and my grandparents paid for it completely, no questions asked. I never forget how lucky I am.

I got tested on all levels of reading, writing, math, comprehension and critical thinking. My results were just as we thought. I was in fifth grade reading/thinking/comprehending at a pre-K level, if that.

For two years, I went to the learning center 2-3 times a week to improve on all my skills. It was hard, I got frustrated really quickly, I would be exhausted after my sessions but I gained the skills I didn’t have before.

I began to actually understand what I was reading. I learned how to give a summary to someone else about what I read. I learned how to read between the lines and find those context clues. Understanding what was being asked of me in math problems became way easier.

I couldn’t do all those things before I got the help I needed.

By the time I left, I was reading ahead of my grade level. I knew how to write complete sentences. I wasn’t afraid of books or passages anymore.

Even with the help and support I got, I still struggle every single day at 25 years old.

It takes me 30 minutes to write a simple tweet or Facebook status because I over analyze myself and think it doesn’t structurally sound right. I miss use words that are similar to one another because I think that’s the phrase or word I hear. In college, I would read articles 4-5 times to understand the content. I stick with writing in AP style (not only because that’s what journalists use) but because it’s way easier for me to understand its rules than MLA or Chicago style.

I spent over two months writing this exact post because organizing my thoughts and figuring out where sentences flow best is hard for me to determine.

I’ve never been officially diagnosed with a learning disability but through my own research and talking with family friends who have studied learning disabilities, it all makes sense; the way I think, learn and how I comprehend information. I don’t know what I could have, I know something’s not right. I don’t think or process information like everyone else. And it took me until I was 21/22 to finally understand what works best form.

I’ve learned what works best for me all on my own, a lot of trial and error over the years. None of my teachers or professors could ever understand the extra effort I’ve had to put into my work over the last some-odd years.

I’ve had teachers tell me my essays sound like I wrote them the night before when they don’t know I spent two weeks trying to perfect it. I had my mom read my essays during my first year of college because I never thought they were “college standard.” I take twice as long to read anything. Pop quizzes and tests induce so much anxiety because even though I can study for days on end and can know the information, how tests are worded always confuse me.

My favorite story to tell is when one of my professor’s commented on my rehearsal reports for a show I was working, saying it sounded like I spent all my time on the rehearsal summary than the questions or statements towards the production team throughout my report. If only he knew it took me two+ hours to write my reports each night because I never knew if what I was saying would make sense to someone else or if I meant what I was articulating.

I just finished my first week of nursing school. I love it and it’s a lot of reading and studying and application. It’s more work than I was initially anticipating, and I knew what I was getting myself into. All the work I’ve done thus far, I’ve done double, maybe triple, the amount of work work. Literally.

I read each page at least twice in my books
I’ve done chapter summaries for each chapter I’ve read in my book, consisting of at least 8-10 pages, front and back, in my notebook.
I color-code* the highlighting I do in my textbooks to breakup all the passages, examples, information and definitions.
I color-code* my notes when I re-write them which differentiates the information I just read so I can understand it.
I type up my notes even though I just wrote them out
I make flashcards of all the things

*prime example that I thought it was color-coat BUT it’s color-code.

I’m putting in all this effort just to make sure I thoroughly understand the information. I’ve always been insecure about how smart I think I am, mostly because I don’t feel like I’m as smart as my other friends. I have to apply myself more so than anyone I know just to make it. I do more than I even half to. I’m putting my all into my school work, not only because I’m investing in this, but because I want this so badly. I studied hours upon hours for my entrance exam and I passed. I did that on my own.

I’m smart. I’m capable of so many things despite the feeling of not being smart “enough” like all friends. That’s something I continuously work through, reminding myself that I’m enough when it comes to my book smarts. I’m learning to not discredit myself because I sometimes don’t feel up to par with my friends.

I’m enough. I am smart. I’ve worked so hard to finally earn the right to say that about myself, and finally believe it when I say it.

The year I stopped hating my body

March 23, 2019May 9, 2019 by zoe_dimitra ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

It’s 2019. I’m allowed to love myself exactly as I am.

So, growing up, the talk of the family during every gathering would be about my weight and my size. It was a hot topic of discussion. And even as an adult, I still can’t avoid it.

“Oh, Zoe, you really should be eating your vegetables.”

“Zoe, why don’t you try something new?”

“C’mon Zoe, look at yourself. Do you wanna be 300 pounds by the time your 20?”

“Oh, Zoe, do I see a VEGETABLE on your plate?”

I’ve heard it all from my family. And going to school as the fat kid wasn’t a grand ol’ time either.

I’d get whale noises shouted at me from across the hall, I’d be told I should lay off the twinkies or that no one would ever want to be with me because I’m fat. I’ve lived through some of my worst nightmares from when I was bullied because I was the fat kid.

Every time I looked at myself in the mirror growing up, I’d hate what I’d see. My stomach bulged out, I had the worst acne, my body was wider than others who were skinnier. The bullying over my body from my peers didn’t end until I left N.H, when there was no one else to make fun of.

I left the constant reminders that I was never the skinny one but those words cut through me like a sharp knife during high school, college and up until now in my mid-twenties. Words hurt, they sting and stick with someone for a long time.

Through all the bullying, I binged ate ice cream and chips and bread; it was as if no one ever fed me. I closet ate so much after everyone in the house would go to sleep. I ate my feelings away. I ate to make myself feel anything than what I was feeling in that present moment. Food made me feel better when I was walking through elementary school and middle alone with hardly any friends to go to.

I was already in a bottomless pit of nothing growing up, what did I have to lose?

I’ve tried all the dieting fads as early as 13 years old. My father and his wife once told my mom that they found an advertisement for diet pills and I should try them. I’ve gained weight, lost weight, gained weight, so on and so forth. I’ve binged, I’ve skipped meals thinking it would make a difference (it didn’t) and I made myself unhappy.

The same cycle just different points of my life.

I’ve always listened to everyone around me, encasing in their negativity and to call it what it is; utter bullshit. It is no one’s fault or doing but my own for the way I am.

And I’ve hated myself for too long and have beaten myself up over not being the deemed “perfect” standard of beauty society makes of women (also read: bullshit.) I’ve let everyone else’s opinions cloud my true perspective toward myself all my life.

Until last year, I didn’t know my body was imbalanced in its hormone production. PCOS is a hormone imbalance and part of that imbalance is the body loving fat and holding onto it, even if you’re trying to lose it, sometimes it will just stick. Yeah, I have a play in how fat I’ve gotten but when your body plays into it as well, it’s a whole new can of worms.

And yeah, my stomach is still too round. I have very large arms. I have a small double chin. I’m fighting to find a perfect balance in a body that’s imbalanced. Blah blah blah. I’m tired of talking about about the negatives! So instead, I’m going to talk about the positives because no one does that NEARLY enough when it comes to fat bodies.

I can keep up in a cardio workout. I can keep up in (beginner) dance classes. I can do a split. I look very nice in flowy dresses. I can handle a lot of weight during strength workouts. I can go for walks and not get out of breath. I look great in space buns. I’ve learned how to do a great smokey eye. I find the good in every single show I see. I’m an extreme extrovert. I have a great soprano range. I have fun all while making a fool out of myself.

But most importantly, I’m a work in progress. I have a long way to go until I end up at a place I want to be at. I’m taking the steps, I’m making the changes. But I’m physically tired of hating myself. I’m tired of blaming everything around me. I’m tired of feeling sorry for myself. I’m tired of explaining myself or why things have happened.

I don’t believe I need to love myself in order for someone else to love me. I do believe that I need to love myself in order for me to love me. Duh.

From this moment on, I’m going to stop hating myself for all that I’m not.

From this moment on, I’m going to let go of all the negative comments, words and actions that have eaten me up inside all these years.

From this moment on, I’m not going to feel like a failure when I get off the wagon in losing weight.

From this moment on, I’m not going to feel bad for the food that I eat.

From this moment on, I don’t care what anyone thinks of my body, my weight or how I look.

25 years is a long time to hate yourself and until recently, like New Year’s recently, I’ve started viewing myself in a new light. I’m seeing myself for who I’m meant to be. Like I said, I have a long way to go to where I want to be, and it’s going to happen, even if it takes a little longer. It’s my journey to live and tell and it’s okay if that journey is not linear. Besides, it’s not supposed to be.

Because no one has to wake up and live my life except me.

I’m letting go of all the, “well if you did this…” comments.

I’m letting go of all the, “we only say this because we love you…” tag lines.

I’m letting go of all the, “You were doing so well!” guilt trips.

I’m letting go of giving other people’s power over my life and how I should view myself. I’m letting go of the need to explain myself when I have nothing to justify. This is me.

I’m done apologizing and justifying my fatness. If you have a problem with me or any fat body you come in contact with, I suggest keeping any comments to yourself. They’re not welcomed and to be honest, if you have comments about anyone’s body, you need to check yourself. Because it’s messed up that you would even have such thoughts.

My name is Zoe. I’m beautiful, inside and out, just the way I am. And I mean that.

You & Me – a stage manager’s preview

February 20, 2019 by zoe_dimitra ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Since November, I’ve indulged in my first stage management project in Buffalo for the new theatre company, Green Buffalo Productions (GBP.) Three of my dearest friends started the company in April 2018 with the goal of producing original work by local and regional playwrights and poets. In a city that produces so much popular, mainstream theatre, there’s no other company that is producing new work like they are in Buffalo.

So, what new show are they producing?

I’m glad you asked!!

The semi-autobiographical play, “You & Me: The (Mostly) True Story of the Day Before my Senior Prom,” follows the relationship between Tori and Geoff from their awkward but happy moment at freshmen year orientation, to the day before senior prom where even the thought of Geoff pushes Tori to her limit. This 90 minute production takes you on a journey through young love, relationship violence and abuse, conflict, heartache, friendship and figuring out what to do once you reach your breaking point as a teenager. Through the perspective of Tori, we slowly connect all the pieces to the puzzle that leads her to ask for help the day before prom.

When I first read the script, its format reminded me of the musical, “Fun Home.” Obviously, they don’t have the same exact format but going from past to present Alison in “Fun Home” and demonstrating how she got to where she is, it’s structured like that for “You & Me.” The present day scenes set up for the scenes that take place in the past to give the arc of the story more depth and understanding. Usually in theatrical shows, whether they’re plays or musicals, they open up to a moment in time. You see the characters as they are without ever necessarily knowing how their story began or how their story ends.

In this show, audience members will receive all the information they need from beginning to end. Nothing’s left out, nothing’s left unsaid. It’s raw, it’s real and most importantly, it’s relatable. This production and story will leave audience members connecting the dots and starting a conversation once the final words are spoken.

Not only is this piece autobiographical, it’s a piece of theatre for social change.

In the time of the #MeToo and Time’s Up movement, talking about sexual harassment, sexual assault and rape is the forefront of the fight. GBP producing “You & Me” is giving a voice to survivors who wouldn’t otherwise get one. And this story takes place during high school, a pivotal moment for social and physiological development for teenagers who are just beginning to gain their own opinions, viewpoints and voice in this massive world. I don’t know of any recent established works that give a voice to a teenage girl who’s been through hell and back, literally.

More importantly, violence towards girls during the teenage years is not uncommon, actually, it’s more common than one would think. According to Love is Respect:

One in three adolescents in the U.S. is a victim of physical, sexual, emotional or verbal abuse from a dating partner.

One in 10 high school students has been purposefully hit, slapped or physically hurt by a boyfriend or girlfriend.

Girls and young women between the ages of 16 and 24 experience the highest rate of intimate partner violence — almost triple the national average.

Most of the depictions of abuse in “You & Me” are subtle, just like how they happen in real life. Words spoken by our talented, driven and passionate company of actors were said in real life, exact verbatim.

Why exactly were those words said? Some of that we don’t know.

Why do people abuse and manipulate other people? Sadly, no one exactly knows that either…

This show is going to ring the bell louder and hit closer to home whether you’ve been in a toxic relationship or experienced intimate partner violence. Even if you haven’t personally experienced those things, you might connect with the reality of what happens when you ask for help or the feeling of almost losing your best friend. Maybe you’ll relate to its illustration and honesty of mental health. Maybe it’s something personal from high school that you didn’t think would resonate after so many years from this production. Most of all, anyone who sees this show will know they’re not alone.

It’s a show everyone should see in a time where violence against women is a continuous, rising international issue. It’s a show that will make you ask questions. A show that will make you want to turn the other way, like when you see a bad car accident, but you just can’t. It’s a show that will make you laugh (even with this show’s subject matter, there are moments of appropriate laughter, I promise!), it will make you think, it will make you uncomfortable, it will make your blood boil, it might even make you cry. But again, it will show you that you’re not alone in any connection you have with this show and this story.

The point of theatre for social change is to talk about all the issues that are pinned uncomfortable. Those topics that we should push under the rug, this show is giving the proper light and opportunity for further discussion. “You & Me” shouldn’t be an easy show to watch or listen to. The only way we make a change in this world is by facing the problem head on and looking at how we can individually make a change in our lives to impact the bigger picture. If we keep the conversation going once the show is over, we’ve done our job.

I’ve watched this show grow from start: auditions, casting the show, notating every single change and movement made on stage. I’ve seen the cast grow with their characters, bringing this story to life and giving justice to the subject matter. It’s evolved from the page to the stage and in just nine days (eight, actually) we’ll have an audience. I’ve worked on many shows over the years and to begin 2019 stage managing “You & Me” is an honor and the best way to begin my year of theatre. It’s a show not to be missed by an up-and-coming theatre company in the Buffalo area.

All information pertaining to the show and tickets can be found at Green Buffalo Production’s website by clicking this link. We hope to see you there; you won’t want to miss it!

DISCLAIMER: ‘You and Me: The (Mostly) True Story of the Day Before my Senior Prom’ includes direct examples of and illusions to intimate partner violence. Characters experience and discuss issues of emotional, mental and physical abuse. Explicit language, may not be suitable for anyone under 16.

Wait for it

February 5, 2019February 6, 2019 by zoe_dimitra ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

On the top of my graduation cap, I put two of my favorite lyrics from the hit-musical, “Hamilton,” not realizing how true they would become to me at this point in my life.

I am the one thing in life I can control…

I’ve always been the one to initiate any and all sort of change that has happened in my life. I made the choice to get out of a major I wasn’t pleased with, I stepped down from a stage manager position because the person in charge made me feel useless, I ended friendships because it was long overdue, I made a lifestyle change because I couldn’t live the way I was any longer. Anytime I’m ready and want to do something on my own terms, I do it and no one can talk me out of it.

Change was coming, I just didn’t know it yet.

I’m not falling behind or running late…

I’m not late in the sense of time, because theatre teaches you one should never be late, but my maturity has never up to the same speed as my peers. I didn’t develop social skills until high school in my late teens, I didn’t figure out study skills until I graduated college, I understood class information and lessons days after it was taught in class. It’s always taken me longer than everyone else, and it still does.

In high school, I knew I wanted to major in theatre in college. Originally, I wanted to major in a performance focused curriculum, but after my first year, I just knew I had to graduate with a theatre degree, regardless of what my focus of study was. I added another major, switched that second major and minor too many times, and I graduated after five years with two degrees in theatre and communications with a minor in journalism.

I thought, “Okay, here we go. I have the skills to get a job!”

After coming home the summer I graduated school, I applied to multiple different places, with absolutely no luck. I began thinking, a small doubt in my mind, that maybe, just maybe, what I’m doing isn’t what I should be doing.

My first change happened: I moved to Buffalo in January 2018.

Two months later I took a job at a call center and six months after that I realized my mental health was spiraling out of control, so I left that job and have been living off my savings since August.

It was time for another change but I need a sign.

I’m willing to wait for it.

And I did but not for too long.

The world works in mysterious ways because before I knew it, I got my sign.

My mom went to a medium where she mentioned my brother and I. She told my mom that I was a healer, I had a healing aura, and that I’m capable of anything. It felt good to be reminded I’m intelligent and capable beyond my own self-doubt and insecurities. Through everything my mom told me, I just kept thinking of the part where the medium said how I was a healer.

I mean, all my friends can attest that I am the mom friend of the group. I take care of people when their sick, I took care of a girl I didn’t even know in college who was too drunk to walk one Saturday night. I am always the DD when my friends and I go out, I put other people’s well-being before my own. I make sure everyone is okay mentally, physically, and emotionally. I always take care of people.

I got the sign. I’m healing, a healer, and that’s where it all began to make sense.

Out of no where at 1 a.m. this past fall, I began feeling my fingers type rapidly in the google search bar, “n-u-r-s-i-n-g p-r-o-g-r-a-m-s i-n -b-u-f-f-a-l-o,” that I didn’t realize what I wrote until my search results appeared.

Nursing was never something I considered. For over 10 years, I had my heart set on being in theatre. It’s what I always knew I was going to do from the time I was in middle school in my first musical. I knew that, I believed that. But I’ve changed drastically over the years, and as I’ve changed, my thoughts, goals and dreams have, too.

I’m not upset over my five years spent at Fredonia. I don’t regret the degrees I studied, the classes I took, the shows I did and the opportunities I earned. Two years out of school with no luck, savings or some sense of security will make you think… a lot.

Maybe, I might not be in the right place. Maybe, I need to take another couple turns down this uneven path I’m walking. Maybe I need to step out of somewhere that’s comfortable to somewhere that is unknown and scary.

…I am the one thing in life I can control.

The most important lesson I’ve learned is that I can’t compare my journey to someone else’s. I’ve learned that just because someone got from point A to point B one way, doesn’t mean the way I get to point B is any less. My story and journey is nothing like I originally thought; and that’s okay.

What does this all mean? Well, after much consideration and long hours of studying, I’m going back to school, sooner than I actually anticipated.

I got accepted into a LPN, Licensed Practical Nursing, program here in Buffalo starting in April. It’s a 1,100 hour, one year program.

I studied my butt off for my entrance exam in December, I found out I passed mid-January and before I knew it, I put my deposit in today, Feb. 5, for an official acceptance into the program.

I’m really excited, more excited than I’ve been about anything I did during my first round of undergrad. If I decided I wanted to do be a nurse when I was 18, I wouldn’t have been ready or mature enough. If gaining entrance into a program didn’t mean anything to me, I wouldn’t have studied as hard as I did, panicking from the doubt about, “what if?” I didn’t pass.

But I got in. This program is going to challenge me and I’ll have to put more time in than the average person because of how I learn and study but I’m doing it. It’s happening.

I’m 25; ready, nervous, excited and determined about becoming a nurse.

In a year, I’ll be an LPN. My goal is to become an RN and then earn my BSN within the next 10 years or so.

When I became a stage manager in college, I had this feeling, something I still can’t fully describe. In that moment during my first show, I knew that stage management was my home in the theatre. I had that same indescribable feeling for nursing; I just know it’s where my career lies ahead for me. I’m listening to my signs, trusting my instincts and understanding these moments that are happening in my life as they happen.

And I’m exactly where I need to be.

Because I waited for it.

25 lessons from 25 years

December 31, 2018 by zoe_dimitra ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Here’s the thing about having a birthday on December 31; you reflect on your life in more depth than a person who doesn’t have a birthday on the biggest celebration of the year.

I think the reason why is that New Year’s Eve birthday’s can be seen in the duration of a 12-month calendar. Everyone celebrates a birthday every 365 days, but not like we do. Not only is it a New Year for Earth, it’s a new age for those who are born on December 31. I look back on so many things, not just my year as a whole, I look back and think, “how did 24 treat me?” I don’t think of it like, “how did 2018 treat me?”

With that said,

“Her dreams went out the door, when she turned 24,” from the hit “1985” by Bowling for Soup, proved to be true, but 24 just showed me who I’m supposed to be. Age 24 has tested me, gifted me, hated me, loved me and challenged me.

I’ve learned a lot just this year alone but here’s what I’ve learned over the last 25 years.

Don’t take life too seriously: It’s too short to worry about the small things. Is it really going to matter in 15 minutes that someone messed up your order? Or that the line is moving too slow at the grocery store? Are you really going to get somewhere faster by speeding and driving recklessly? Probably not.
Don’t be afraid to cut out toxicity: I’ve let go of people and things that didn’t make me happy anymore. People don’t deserve your support if they don’t support you. Things don’t deserve your time if it doesn’t make you happy. I’ve learned people shouldn’t keep you around just for convenience. You win some, you lose some. Sometimes, it’s just time to let go. And that’s okay.
Go for it: Do all the things that scare you. Take risks, take the road less traveled. Go down the path where you can’t see the light. Don’t be scared if it’s wrong or right. You’ll never know what you’re capable of if you stay where it’s comfortable.
Do things by yourself: Go shopping by yourself. Take yourself out on a nice walk. Go to that movie you’ve been eager to see. I’m one of the biggest extroverts I’ve ever met, and I love doing all the things by myself. It’s the little things.
Speak your mind: This one can be scary, but if you don’t agree with something, don’t change your opinions to fit the climate. Don’t level to someone else’s thoughts and opinions when yours are just as valid.
Accept the past: We’ve all been through shit in some way, shape or form. Just because something(s) happened, doesn’t mean that it has to define us. It doesn’t mean we have to stay in that place of darkness, even if we don’t know it at the time. I’m not saying it’s easy getting there or even knowing where to start. But I’ve learned that there is light. There is good. It does get better. I promise.
Know your worth: No one knows what your good at or capable of than yourself, even if you don’t know it. There are always these expectations of who we should be as individuals that fit us into an unrealistic, intangible box. There are always people, women in particular, who feel the need to belittle each other down. We’re all capable of wonderful things. The only person who needs to believe in you, is yourself. And this point leads me to my next lesson:
Different is better: Whether that’s in our opinions, style, personality, class, interests or dislikes, it’s always better to be different. We weren’t meant to be the same. No two bodies are the same, no two personalities are the same, nothing about any one of us is the same. That’s good. It’s supposed to be that way.
Don’t compare yourself to others: This lesson I’ve learned a lot about in 2018. What’s best for someone else, isn’t what’s going to be best for me, or you reading this. We’re all on our own journey, living our own (hopefully best) life. How I plan to get to point B is no less than how someone else gets to the same exact point B.
Money (sadly) doesn’t grow on trees: I’ve learned that the money I have, the little I do have, needs to be saved. I can’t spend it willy-nilly. The night out with friends will happen again, the movie I really want to see will be On Demand in the next few months, I can live without name-brand products. I plan on *really* saving my money, any penny I can, come 2019.
Take care of your health: It’s so, so important. What I’ve gone through this year aren’t life-threatening conditions, but I’ve learned if I don’t change aspects of my life now, it’s just going to be harder down the road. I’m done letting myself go. My body isn’t going to be in the same shape it is right now 10 years down the road, and if I want to keep up with everything life is going to throw at me, I want to be in the best shape possible.
Be okay being alone: Your own company is the best company. Doing things alone and being alone are two different kinds of alone. Sometimes the peace of being with a good book, watching your favorite tv show or cooking what you love, at your own pace and comfort is so relaxing.
Other people’s opinions on you is not your problem: I’m a people pleaser. I’ve always been this way. I’ve cared about what people thought about me, how I looked, I’ve been scared to eat around friends and family because of what they might or were thinking about me. Then I thought to myself, why do I care so much? If people have the energy to dislike me or say negative, or even mean, things about me, that’s their problem.
Laugh a lot: It’s honestly the best medicine. Even if no one else is laughing, laugh anyway. Of course, I wouldn’t recommend laughing at things that aren’t funny. That’s obvious.
Always be creative: There were a couple times in the last few years where I thought I needed to step back from theatre or singing because I believed I wasn’t good enough to keep something that made me so happy once I was out of college. I was wrong. Keep singing. Keep working at your craft. Being creative through various art forms is something we need more of in this world.
There’s a difference between a job and career: In 2018 alone I’ve been through I think four different jobs. One was beginning to destroy my mental health, I traveled back and forth for three weeks for theatre (so worth it!), I got a job but left that for something I thought would get me to where I want to go and then left that job after two days because I felt so out of place. I know there’s a feeling people get where they know where they need to be. I felt that and now I’m taking the steps to get out just having a job to now building a foundation for my future career. It’ll take some time, but I’m figuring it out.
Admit when you’re wrong: God, if I had a quarter for every time I was wrong about something, I’d have millions. Sometimes, we’re right. Sometimes, we’re wrong. It’s okay to be wrong. So many fights happen because someone won’t take responsibility for their actions from being either right or wrong. There’s a time and place for admitting when you’re right and especially when you’re wrong.
Know when to listen: Everyone doesn’t want your opinion all the time. Being there for someone, no matter what situation, can be sitting there in silence from all parties. It can mean driving around in continuous circles throughout town just so someone can get out of the house for awhile. Sometimes people need to figure out what’s going on inside their head without the need for a comment or sense of judgement from someone else. Listening is powerful and we don’t do enough of it.
Keep reading: I was never the reading type when I was younger. I’d be found doing anything else but reading. It wasn’t until my senior year of high school I truly appreciated reading for fun. I didn’t do so much reading during college, I did these last few summers. I made a goal to read more books in 2018 but that didn’t happen like I thought it would. Reading books is refreshing, going into a world unlike yours, but reading can also be from a magazine, news article, a Buzzfeed quiz, or learning how to make the perfect omelette. Just keep reading, exercise your mind to the fullest.
“I am a work in progress”: This has been my motivation through every single hardship I’ve experienced. I first learned this from one of my favorite professors in college all the way back in 2012. It was the first day of Intro to Acting as a wee freshman who didn’t know what the hell she was doing but was told she was a work in progress. It stuck with me. There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t remind myself of that. Truthfully, I don’t know if I would be even half the person I am, and continue to become, if it wasn’t for that phrase.
Love yourself: This isn’t a lesson you learn overnight, in a day, week, month or even in a year. It’s a lifetime of understanding and patience. I’ve heard probably every negative word, phrase, comment and gesture in the last 25 years of my life. A lot of those feelings have stayed with me up until a few years ago. I’ve learned that what people think of me is their own problem. If they’re uncomfortable with the space I take up, it’s their own insecurity. I’m not going to apologize for loving myself exactly as I am; my size, my looks, my personality, my life and my choices. If someone doesn’t like it, oh well.
Learn how to take constructive criticism: Now, I’m not saying you have to like it. During any of my theatre classes in college, giving constructive criticism was second nature. When giving or taking criticism, 9 out of 10 times it’s not even that bad. In anything we do, we want to get better. Listening to what other people have to say, with fresh eyes and new ideas, means what we’re doing is only going to get better. We can only go up with the help from others.
Accept failure: Not everything we do is going to end with a perfect success story. Hell, even if we do succeed, doesn’t mean it was easy to get there. Everything we do have their battles, the uphill climb we weren’t expecting. Sometimes in our pursuit to get something we want or desire, we don’t: the door closes. Life is a series of high and lows and all the in-betweens. It’s okay to not succeed, it’s okay to fail. What’s not okay is if you let the failure define you; that you stop going after what you want in the midst of fearing you’ll fail again. Don’t do that, keep going.
Never be afraid to ask for help: Asking for help doesn’t make you weak or incapable, it just means you need additional support. It can mean helping someone with their groceries. Maybe you’re asking someone to get something off the top shelf since you’re short. You could be asking for help when you don’t know what decision to make. Maybe you don’t know what to do and you need someone. Help comes in all ways and it should never be looked down upon when someone needs it.
Everything happens for a reason: I’ve done so many things, have said (and written) a lot of words and have made too many right and wrong decisions. Even when I’ve made, what feels like my worst mistakes, there’s a reason why they happened. Things just don’t happen; there’s a reason behind everything we do and experience, even if we never learn the reason why. If I didn’t make all the decisions I’ve made up until this point in my life, I wouldn’t be where I am today. I’m thankful for every great and horrible decision I’ve made, the words I’ve said, the feelings I felt. It’s part of my story, it wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t supposed to.

Holy shit, I’m a quarter century old guys. I’m closer to 30 than I am to 20 now.

It’s been a wild ride and I’m excited to see how 25 turns out.

“It’s gonna be a Happy New Year.”

On Kavanaugh: Time’s up.

September 28, 2018September 28, 2018 by zoe_dimitra ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

We’re all on edge over the next justice that will be placed onto our United States Supreme Court. Dr. Christine Beasley Ford told her story yesterday to millions of people, trembling with each word she said. Supreme Court Justice nominee Brett Kavanaugh lied his way under oath about everything he has done and said (come on, someone who is innocent wouldn’t jump down the throats of everyone who was asking questions he didn’t want to answer.)

We don’t get to decided who the victim or survivor is. We need to listen to the stories of sexual harassment, sexual assault and rape from survivors themselves. We need to get uncomfortable while listening to these stories because it happens too often, every 98 seconds too often. We need to understand that coming forward is not an easy choice.

It’s not something that’s decided overnight. It’s not the victim/survivor’s fault over what happened to them.

While I was in college, I couldn’t tell you how many stories I’ve listened to about a boyfriend who assaulted their girlfriend because, “you should do this for me.” I’ve heard the story about going out where, “he followed me home.” I’ve listened to countless, “I said no.” I can’t keep track of how many stories I heard where, “he seemed like a nice guy” came up. Don’t even get me started on the, “I still have nightmares.”

It’s heartbreaking and infuriating. It’s daunting and confusing. It’s scary and all too real.

I don’t recall ever meeting a women who hasn’t been assaulted in someway, shape or form. It’s as if it’s a right of passage to be assaulted, something we should expect to happen in our lifetime.

I mean, statistics don’t lie. Will I be the 1 in 3? 1 in 4? 1 in 5? 1 in 6?

Women of color are less likely to report an assault or rape than a white woman.

47% of transgender people will be assaulted in their lifetime.

Native American women are 3.5 times more likely to face assault and rape due to isolation and lack of resources.

46% of bisexual women have been raped, compared to straight women.

We’ve been conditioned with these thoughts and questions:

Boys will be boys.

Maybe if you didn’t drink so much, nothing would have happened.

Are you sure you weren’t leading him on?

Why didn’t you just say yes?

What were you wearing?

You’re going to ruin his future.

He’s a nice guy.

Are you sure it was actually rape?

Why didn’t use report it?

Why didn’t you report it? The whole point of this entire thought.

The reason why women do not come forward about their trauma and experience is because we’ve been taught that rape, sexual assault, harassment of any kind, doesn’t really happen.

We’ve been taught that if we don’t talk about it, then it’s not real.

We’ve been taught that there is no possible way that someone could control another person’s body and feelings.

We’ve been taught to blame the victim/survivor than the rapist.

We’ve been taught that these cases go no where.

We’ve been taught that justice can never be served.

You don’t have the right to tell a survivor when it’s time for her/them to come forward. You don’t have the right to discredit their experience. You will never, ever, understand the pain they carry with them day in and day out until you’ve lived it yourself.

Survivors are called survivors because they’ve had to live through the fear of knowing that saying no could mean whether they live or die.

I’m looking at you Republicans a part of the Senate Judiciary Committee, don’t you dare call Kavanaugh a victim in all of this when a women looked at you dead in the eyes, painted the chilling pictures of her experience of sexual assault. How dare you discredit her story when her life was ruined before it could begin when she was in high school. He had a choice, he made his bed, he lied on top of her against her will in that bed and now the truth is out. And it pisses you off because the truth can’t be a lie.

There are so many men who have committed such crimes that continue to receive praise and support – Trump, Weinstein, Lauer, Moovnes, Kavanaugh, Louis – that they’re seemingly untouchable; they’ll never receive punishment for what they did. People think, “Oh, think of their lives that will be ruined! Think of the good name they made for themselves, he’s never done anything wrong before! Why didn’t she come forward earlier? He’s a reputable man.”

That sort of mindset is our problem.

It can take years for survivors to even begin to talk about their experience. A women doesn’t come forward for the hell of it. Believe me, anyone who is a survivor of sexual harassment, assault or rape, the last thing they want to do is relive and vocalize a play-by-play of their experience to people they don’t even know. The people who have come forward in the last year have done so because injustice is still happening and we need to fix it. That’s why Dr. Ford came forward, as she said, as a civic duty.

Survivors are conditioned from societal expectations to let their experience go, move on and live their life as if nothing ever happened. I’m sure that’s what happened with Dr. Ford and countless other women who were attacked by these boys (yes, boys) that have been exposed and those who’s times have yet to come. They all came forward to tell us, the people and public, what each powerful white boy has done. If we don’t say something, they’ll keep getting away with it and we will perpetrate the same toxic culture we’ve been conditioned with since the world was created.

If you are a survivor: you are loved, you are valued, we believe you and it’s not your fault. It’s never too late to come forward. It’s never too late to use your voice. It’s never too late to stand up for what’s right. It’s never too late to put the power back into your hands. It’s never too late to put privileged individuals in their damn place.

We can’t be afraid anymore. Our time is now.

Time’s up on sexual predators. Time’s up on the rapists. Time’s up on serial attackers. Time’s on white, privileged, cis-men to say who’s a “real” victim. Time’s up on the GOP.

Time is up on all of this bullshit. If we want change, we have to vote them out. Stand up for what you believe in. They’re hearing us, it’s time for them to listen.

Sources

https://endsexualviolencect.org/resources/get-the-facts/woc-stats/

https://www.hrc.org/resources/sexual-assault-and-the-lgbt-community

https://www.rainn.org/statistics/victims-sexual-violence

September – PCOS Awareness Month

September 9, 2018September 9, 2018 by zoe_dimitra ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

I’m a pretty open book when it comes to my life, I’ve reeled in quite a bit during the last year, but this topic hits a little closer to home. I’ve mentioned this once on social media, but I’ve only really talked about it with my close friends and family. If you’ve been reading, even briefly, the news on women’s health, this conversation is important now more than ever. So, here we go!

Since I was a teenager, I’ve always had acne and irregular cycles. I thought it was because I was (still am) overweight, how I handled stress from school, and the hormones that were changing during puberty never settled. There was never a moment during my youth where I didn’t have acne; seriously, a new one showed up every single day. I constantly gained weight, and my periods? I was lucky if I could count on one hand how many I’d get in a given year.

Fast-forward to sophomore year of college, I got my appendix removed. My surgeon, while performing surgery, noticed my ovaries were quite larger than normal. He didn’t know what it meant or if there was anything necessarily wrong, he just knew something wasn’t right. Since it was out of his field of practice, he suggested to my mom we get the pictures he took examined further by my primary or a gynecologist.

Thinking to myself, “What does he know? He’s a man!”

Needless to say, I was reluctant to talk about my large ovaries. I mean, everything else on my body is large, why should I be surprised of largeness on the inside?!

During my follow-up post surgery, my primary said nothing looked wrong based on the pictures. There didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary. When I looked at the images, they did look larger. It wouldn’t surprise me if that was the beginning of developing PCOS.

Fast-forward to April 2018. As a surprise, like normal, I get my period. I go through my cycle, all is good in the world. Not even a week later while I’m getting ready for work, this pain like no other comes over me. I’m warm, I feel like knifes are twisting inside my uterus. The pain was a solid 12. Come to realize after the pain had past, I was shedding large chunks of my uterine lining. To compare, the pain felt like I was pushing out an egg each time this lining came through.

All this time while I wasn’t getting a period, the lining my uterus was forming didn’t detach and come through with my period, as it normally does in order for a new cycle to begin. The thin uterine lining that forms, produced by hormones, is its way of preparing for a baby. In my case, each time a new cycle started, even when I wasn’t physically getting my period, the lining kept building up until one day it decided it needed to vacate the facility.

For about two months, I bled profusely. I missed countless days of work because the pain became too much. I felt my body contracting just to get the lining out of my system; this was more painful than the agony I felt before I got my appendix removed. I wouldn’t wish what I went through on my worst enemy.

It wasn’t until I went to a gynecologist and described what I was going through, I finally got an answer.

I had a couple exams, ultrasounds and blood work done, some bearable than others, to figure out my mess of a uterus. About two weeks later when I met with my doctor again, she said all the symptoms and tests correlate with PCOS.

My heart dropped and my mind went racing.

Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome, or PCOS, is a genetic hormone imbalance disorder caused by cysts that are formed on the ovaries. Common symptoms are: excessive facial and body hair, severe acne, irregular menstrual cycles, weight gain and infertility, its leading factor.

PCOS affects about 1 in 10 women worldwide starting as early as 14 years old. PCOS is not a disease that can be easily diagnosed and doesn’t discriminate; women will go through their whole life not knowing they have PCOS. Women with PCOS have ovaries 1.5-3 times larger than normal ovaries. Women with PCOS are more apt to experience diabetes and heart-related diseases as well as heart attacks. And to top it all off, there is no cure for PCOS.

The entire day after that appointment, I cried, I screamed, I kept blaming myself thinking there was something I could stop this from happening.

I couldn’t prevent my PCOS.

So for the rest of the day, I read other women’s stories. I learned how they cope, how they live with PCOS, medications they take and most importantly, their process of having children.

Surprisingly, that’s the part that got me the most. When my doctor told me I have PCOS, she said that if I tried to have a baby now, I wouldn’t get pregnant.

At this moment in time, I’m infertile… Thinking about it doesn’t get any easier.

Let me just say this, women who have PCOS can and do get pregnant, sometimes without any fertility treatment. I’m one of those cases where I need to do everything I can to make sure I am in the best physical shape in order to bare a child.

What’s the next step from here?

Well, I took all of my frustration and fear and decided to do something. I can’t have this disorder take control over me or make me believe that I’m not capable of having children myself. To make this happen, I have to change my lifestyle.

There are plenty of women who get pregnant successfully and have no complications during pregnancy or childbirth who are my size. I thought I’d be one of those women myself (because screw societal expectations on what body type is most “suitable” to grow babies, AMIRIGHT?!?!) Unfortunately, my body physically can’t do what I always thought it was capable of doing.

I know that being a mom is someone I want to be. Losing weight is the only way I can better my body, not only for my overall health in order to live with PCOS, but in order to carry a child. The more weight I lose, the greater chance I’ll have to become less infertile.

In the dead of night, I signed up for Weight-Watchers and I haven’t looked back since June when I registered. At first it was hard because all the things I was eating were too many points which made me realize how many calories I was actually putting into my body. I had to compromise significantly. After a few weeks it became much easier incorporating fruits and veggies while also eating food I love in moderation. I’ve lost 30 pounds just by watching my diet. I haven’t conquered my fear of going back to the gym yet, but we’re still working on it.

I started on birth control in June and have seen significant differences in my acne, hair growth and cycles; I’ve never been more thankful to be on medication. If it wasn’t for getting on birth control, I would still be in a lot of effing pain, losing more blood from my body than a healthy amount during a period and I wouldn’t have my PCOS under control if it wasn’t for the pills giving me the hormones my body can’t naturally make. Now, if I could just convince the government the positive health benefits from birth control… Sorry, side thought.

We need to talk about women’s health way more than we do now. With our current administration threatening safe abortions, access and coverage of birth control, not knowing the basics of childbirth, not knowing how periods work and lack of proper sex education in America, it’s so important we lead the discussion. Women have PCOS, endometriosis, other disorders that prevent them from getting pregnant. We have to talk and not be uncomfortable doing so. Our dialogue has to change and not feel like we’re alone going through all this BS that happens. Maybe I shared too much, but it’s the only way to start the conversation. It’s a step to start some serious change in our views on women’s health.

I have PCOS. I’ve blamed myself almost every single day thinking there was something I could have done to stop this. I think maybe there was a way I could have known sooner when I was younger. Maybe if I took my health more seriously or noticed different patterns in my mood, or took those photos more seriously. Maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t be in this predicament.

But then I remember that there’s nothing I could have done to stop this. I’m healthy, I’m taking all the right steps to improve my health and well-being for the future. And that’s all I can do.

Learning to be, More like me

Life thoughts told through another millennial