Why I Won’t Be Taking Steroids Again


I’m really feeling this today.


In my eighteen years, I’ve had much exposure to many different types of meds for various and continuous stomach pain and stuff like that.

But boy, this weekend, I have had the worst time ever.

See, I was having migraines and dizziness that wouldn’t go away, so my doctor prescribed me a steroid.


I have cried literally all weekend.

I have been so panicked and so lost.

And I’m afraid I have made my Mama crazy.

I know in my head, after talking to a different doctor, that all of this is caused by the steroids, but honestly, that sort of makes it worse.

It’s scary to think that this medication has such power.

So this week, I am doing something I have wanted to try since I saw a little clip about it in between the two storylines in an Arthur episode when I was little.

I’m going to see a natural pathologist doctor.

I’m all about handling stuff naturally.

When my anxiety isn’t steroid-induced, I have anti-anxiety drops made of flowers that do the trick perfectly; and I also have the matching sleep aid.

They’re non-habit-forming, and they can really do good things for you.

It just makes me feel better knowing that what I’m putting in my body came from the earth.

And hopefully, the new doctor will help all of this mess go away.

I am in need of a medication where the only side effect is extreme sexiness.

I could be okay with that.


The Light at the End of the Tunnel


I’m about to be real with y’all.

Get ready.

Sometimes I feel lonely.

Today was Fun Day on the Quad, sponsored by SRC and CAB (but anything that AT has to do with is always awesome!).

There were spinning tea cups, cotton candy, and carnival games.

Now obviously this wasn't on campus, but I'm craving the fair so bad I couldn't resist this picture! :)

Now obviously this wasn’t on campus, but I’m craving the fair so bad I couldn’t resist this picture! ๐Ÿ™‚

And I got back on campus after work at 4.

I was so tempted just to stay in my room and study.

So I called Mama and asked how bad it would be if I skipped.

She said I needed to go and get outside.

Bless her.

I really did want to go, I just needed that push.

I needed the permission to take a little time out of studying to do something fun.

And it was.

I only stayed for 25 or 30 minutes, but I was glad I got out.

Then, at dinner, I sat with one of the first people to really talk to me once I got on campus.

Y’all, I love this girl.

We have the coolest conversations.

We are honest with each other, and we have each other’s back.

So much so, that when we were talking about guys I told her if she was ever wronged I’d come swinging with a baseball bat and she said if I ever drop my friends because of a guy, she’d whoop me.

It’s SO good to have friends like this.

I’ve had a hard week, but I’m pretty sure today has me coming out the other side.

Days like today are when I know I’m where I’m supposed to be.

It’s good to be a Wesleyanne.


Being Good Enough



Self reliance is a big thing in college.

And I’m struggling, y’all.

Not with the whole feeding myself thing. I can do that. It’s the being sick and not being able to curl up in my Mama’s bed and watch Harry Potter.

And the not being able to convince the ‘rents to take us out to dinner. I have a dining hall now.

I miss it.

But perhaps the hardest part is that Mama has no idea who my friends are. I will mention a name and she’s like “Now which one is this?”

And it’s nothing against her. It’s just different. I miss the days of Mama dropping me off at play dates that turned into sleepovers.

I’m not entirely sure what to do with all this freedom.

I mean, studying takes up all of my time as it is, but when people invite me to dinner I find myself texting Mama to see if it’s okay and if I’ve done enough work to take a break.

I’m trying to please everyone. And I’ve sort of forgotten about myself. So yeah, say I’m happy with a B on a quiz. That’s all that really matters. I’m the one that knows how much I studied and how hard the quiz was.

I’m happy with myself as Auburn. But not as a college student. I constantly text Mama to get assurance that I’m making the right decisions. It’s hard.

So that’s what I leave you with tonight. Be good enough for yourself in every aspect of your life, that’s what I’m going to try to do this week.

Also, if you’re around my way this weekend, I’m staying in campus and may need some reprieve. ๐Ÿ˜‰ I’ll buy the coffee!

Love y’all,

Sisterhood Across Generations


I realized today how lucky I am to be surrounded by strong women.

Both at school and at home.

This morning, I got to talk to my big-in-law on her walk from Tate to Taylor.

That girl is a banjo-playing sweetheart.

I love talking to her. I know that if I ever needed anything, I could call her, my big sister, or a number of other people and I’d have an army by my side ASAP.

Tonight, Madre had a Wildtree Freezer Meal Workshop.

There were at least three generations of women in my house tonight–LOVE IT.

Lynn came, so you know it was a good time ๐Ÿ˜‰

We sat around and talked about a whole lot of stuff, funny, sad, and painfully true.

But then, after talking about the vertigo that my uncle and I are both battling, I sort of zoned out, but then I heard Lynn say “butt vertigo” and I nearly died.

Now, that’s taken totally out of context, it was really something to the effect of “But vertigo…and so on.”

But I swear.

I started shaking my hips, and we all busted out laughing.

Then we decided that that is what Miley Cyrus was suffering from during the VMAs ๐Ÿ˜‰

But the moral of my story is this.

I’ve always gotten along with guys better than I have girls.

But now, finding my own identity as a woman, I’m learning that really, we’re not that different.

And while, when I was little, “butt” was a forbidden word, my Mama was right there with us cracking up.

Sometimes, it’s hard for me to remember that we all have more similarities than differences, but that’s something I want to change.

I want to be the person that someone can go to when they’re feeling down, because I know those ladies such as my STUNT Exec Chair, my Big sister, and my Bigs-in-law are there anytime I need them.

And even if I go home every weekend I’m at Wesleyan, if somebody needs me, you can bet I’ll in my car and on my way to help someone if they need it.

It’s what our people do.

Sisterhood has to do with more than just Wesleyan, it’s across cultures, age, and background.

It’s mind-blowing. It’s caring. I love it.


For My Nineteenth Year


Tonight, I’d like to write a post to my eighteen year old self–who will exist at 3:32 am, believe it or not.

And just for kicks, here are some highlights of my eighteen years so far.

Taking my senior pictures

Taking my senior pictures

My & my Mama--my best friend!

My & my Mama–my best friend!

Baseball in first grade.

Baseball in first grade.

Third grade in my Kelly's Kids sweatshirt :)

Third grade in my Kelly’s Kids sweatshirt ๐Ÿ™‚

Laughing was a daily occurrence at this house.  Love my MaeMae!

Laughing was a daily occurrence at this house. Love my MaeMae!

Messing around at MaeMae & Cap's

Messing around at MaeMae & Cap’s

So here is what I would like my eighteen year old self to do for my seventeen year old self this year:

  • Love fiercely and don’t let go. People leave way too soon.
  • Take a risk. ย Dance like a crazy person, ask that guy to homecoming, do what you want.
  • Stop calling yourself ‘fat’ and ‘ugly’. You’re the bomb.
  • Go out with friends and be present in the moment-cell phone put away!
  • Be a friend to someone, surprise them with Starbucks or El Som.
  • Don’t stress over going home too much or not enough. ย We’re a flexible family.
  • Be honest.
  • Quit apologizing for who you are.
  • Ride a rollercoaster you had previously sworn off.
  • Go see a movie you think you’ll hate.
  • Paint…paint what you feel!
  • Enjoy the “hand-holding stage” (as MaeMae would say) of a relationship. Don’t rush or stress.
  • Listen to music.
  • When you feel bad, it’s okay to watch Disney Channel and cuddle with stuffed animals.
  • Don’t let a guy dictate what clothes you buy or how you do your hair.
  • And finally, enjoy it. You’re not going to be eighteen forever. ย Cherish the people you meet and the experiences you have.

See, I’ve learned a lot about myself this year.

I’m pretty freaking cool.

I’m not fat or ugly (no matter how often I feel it)

People like hanging out with me.

I’m not a loser.

I can make beautiful things.

I don’t need a guy to be happy or to make my decisions for me.

I’m in charge of my destiny.

This life is for me to do great things.

And I plan on it.

I have really high hopes for this year.

I hope y’all do too.

You can be and do anything you want.

And you know what? I can too.

Wishing y’all a happy everyday,


Thank You.


Tonight was Scholarship Thank-You Night.

It’s where those of us who received scholarships gather together with some writing professionals to write thank you notes to the people who made our scholarships possible.

I wanted to cry (very, very happy tears).

I am so incredibly lucky to be here.

My scholarship, the Mary Knox McNeill Scholarship, was named for and in memory of President Knox’s sister, ย who passed away in 2004.

I wish I could have met her.

Rev. Hurdle told me that we would have gotten along well.

I’d like to think so.

As I was writing my draft, I chuckled ย to myself that in a perfect world, I could just give each of these people a bear hug and sit down for a while and just talk. However, there is a time for all things, and tonight was the time to be formal.

After Fall Convo last week, President Knox came up to me and asked if I knew that my scholarship was named for her sister (I did, thankfully.) and then proceeded to tell me she’d be keeping an eye on me.

If that’s not motivation to flourish, I don’t know what is. ๐Ÿ™‚

I told Baddest Mother Ever that I felt like royalty whenever she spoke to me.
I felt like I had arrived!

I have had the honor of hearing her speak multiple times, and I must say, my goal in life is to speak publicly with such ease and poise.

So, writing a thank you note to the president of your college is definitely intimidating.

This felt different than any other thank you note I had ever written.

It wasn’t an overly perky-thanksforthatcooltoyformybirthday-note.

I was honest.

I know that I’m insanely, unbelievably lucky to attend my dream college and not have to worry about keeping up a job to pay off loans. I have friends who are in that very situation, and it’s not better or worse, but different and I certainly wouldn’t be able to pull of the extra curriculars I’m doing. ย I never in a million years expected how dear to my heart Wesleyan would be come, or how cool it would be to walk where my mom, grandmother, and aunt (for a time) walked. I am a piece of living history, and those are big shoes to fill.

I know what it is like to lose people.

Thankfully, I have never lost a sister, but I know what it’s like to have people disrespect someone’s memory.

I’m going to strive to honor the Knox family in my actions while here at Wesleyan and beyond.


This is “Mary and Yorkie” by Susan Ricker Knox. It is one of the paintings in the galleries in Porter.

(I’m assuming the painting is of Mary Knox McNeill.)

I know that since I have lost MaeMae and Cap (my grandparents, in case you’re just tuning in) I have tried to both view myself as they did and live as they wanted me to live.

The last thing I ever want to do is make anyone ashamed that I received a scholarship in memory of such an amazing woman.

I’m hoping I will prove to be worthy. ๐Ÿ™‚

Also, I love it here, so I’m totally considering getting a doctorate in psychology and coming back to teach–yes, I plan that far ahead. ๐Ÿ˜‰

have a great night, y’all


PS–Happy (Early depending on when you read this) Birthday, Doctor Wilcox!

I’m so glad I know you! ๐Ÿ™‚