The Diary of Hoodie Girl

Dear Diary… I've sat and thought (probably too much) about what love should feel like. But no matter how hard I try, I still can't put it into one perfect definition. So, as always, I’ll just say it plainly. Love, to me, is a warm blanket or a hoodie, the kind you can always count on. It’s there when you need it. Unlike the exes that lightning is yet to strike, real love doesn’t twist reality. If anything, it makes things clearer, especially the things I didn’t see before. Like how I’ve hurt people I love. How I’m not as perfect as I once thought. But somehow, love stays. Love knows I can handle things on my own but still calls it a we problem, reminding me I don’t have to. Love makes me a priority, even when it’s inconvenient. Love doesn’t just say, it shows. Love isn’t easy, but there’s a kind of peace in knowing that even in the hard moments, there’s someone choosing to stay. And I think that’s my favorite part, the staying. The quiet moments that say, ' Y ou’re safe now...

  Dear Diary… Breakups suck. But if there’s one thing that gets me through, it’s Thank U, Next by Ariana Grande. That chorus? Hits every time. She lists everything she learned from her past relationships, and honestly? Same. I've had my fair share of heartbreak. Okay, two to be exact. But the lessons? So many. So, to all the boys I’ve loved, thank you. Thank you for being inconsistent. I learned to show up for myself when you wouldn’t. Thank you for the gaslighting. I learned to trust myself and not let anyone mess with my reality. Thank you for making me panic. I found new ways to calm myself down. Thank you for not being there when I needed you. It made me appreciate the people who actually are. Thank you for putting me through unnecessary drama. I learned I can handle more than I thought. Thank you for being irresponsible. I learned how to take care of things myself. Thank you for being disrespectful. It made me more aware of how I treat others and listen when I'm told I...

Dear Diary… The good old writer’s block, where you want to write words but they somehow only feel the need to stay comfortably in your head. For the past few days, I’ve experienced writer’s block, absolutely nothing coming through. It’s a painful experience. Some would say, "You need to declutter your mind, find something engaging, or do something you love aside writing and you’ll get your words back." But alas, it doesn’t work that way sometimes. Sometimes you just sit, waiting for the words to come out, waiting patiently for sentences to form, but then there’s nothing. Then the miserable feelings begin. Nothing feels right anymore. A deep, dark hole, that’s what you feel you’re in. I know it wouldn’t last forever, but in those moments, it feels like it might. And in that stillness, I realize something, maybe writer’s block is not the enemy. Maybe it’s just a pause, a chance to let my mind rest before the floodgates open again. Maybe it's giving me the opportunity to tr...