Category: Life

In a New York Minute

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Happened upon this piece of truth in Chelsea today

Happened upon this piece of truth in Chelsea today

Hi hey there hello. So sorry it’s been a while since my last post–i’ve been running around New York faster than Mary Kate and Ashley in a New York Minute (stop rolling your eyes, I know you got the reference). Take today for example, I slept in until 12 (basically a first for me- who am I?!) and managed to have brunch, go shopping, go to a friend’s birthday gathering and am writing this as I am about to run out the door for dinner plans. Ew that felt like bragging… I mean more like, can I take a nap?

The more time I spend in New York, the more that feeling of being in the right place sinks in. You know the feeling I’m talking about? That one where you’re walking down 8th avenue in Chelsea, smiling just because you’re here? It’s amazing how you can go your whole life blissfuly unaware of what is to come, and how amazing another place with new people can be. I miss all of my Boston, London, and Jacksonville friends an inordinate amount as usual–but find myself feeling more long term on this New York adventure.

Whenever I think of myself graduating college next year (still projectile vomiting at the thought of being a functioning, tax paying-although I’m a Dem so not angry about that haha), jury-duty going member of society, a part of me freezes in terror, while the other screams a resounding “hell yeah,” kind of like Lizzie McGuire’s (probably crazy) inner dialogue. Someone should have really sent Hillary Duff to a therapist on that show. I mean, having a caricature of yourself on your shoulder should probably not serve as an aspiration for the malleable adolescent brains watching the Disney Channel. Any who, I digress.

Now that I’m starting to come to terms with the small time I have left in college with the loons I love called my friends, I realize how transient it all really is. I know I mentioned this in a few posts prior to leaving London, and probably after, but I think this year really taught me that not much lasts forever, and that is actually a great thing. I love being young, wild and free (now that song is stuck in your head hehe) and I love New York City.

After my first 2 weeks at my undisclosed fashion editorial internship, the realness of New York seems so much more tangible. I work with people that inspire me along with millions of other girls. I want to be equals with my bosses. I aspire to make my stitch in the fabric of the fashion future. I cannot wait to see what the future holds, and the more I think about it and entertain the idea of moving here a year from now, I also want to hold on to the present and enjoy every second with the crazies that I love.

Sorry if this post was a bunch of rambling nonsense, but I mean it’s been a while and this is real this is me (sorry Demi).

Look out for next week’s post!

Stay classy and don’t forget your sunblock you classy people!

XOXO

Welcome to New York/Shake it Off

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Chelsea, right near my summer home

Welcome to New York. Now, where’s T-swift and the welcoming committee? Oh well, I guess the smiling (lol) New Yorkers will have to do.

As the summer begins I find myself reflecting on the past few months. This year teemed with ups and downs, and all around lows and highs. Basically every two weeks I jetted off to another place, another adventure, location and new people. This time, I call  New York City home for the next few months, until I begin my senior year of college (hides under blanket in denial).

After the highs of life abroad, the lows seem to hit quite hard these last few weeks. I’m not one for feelings or emotions (ok I have a ton but I don’t like talking about them–duh), but this last week proved one full of anger, resentment and overall sadness towards diabetes. I will admit, for the most part I am proud of the way I’ve dealt with such a prognosis. However, the fact that this disease does not have a cure keeps crawling into the edges of my mind, my happy days, my sad days–it’s always there. Who knew that the biggest constant in my life these days would be this frustrating, irritating, occasionally painful, uncomfortable, dangerous-yet-manageable, disease.

After one year, I can honestly say I am already sick of diabetes and all of its complications. I am sick of the (thankfully) small scars on my legs, stomach, arms, and hips. I am tired of changing my pumps, people’s stares and questioning looks if my pump shows. The occasional accidental bump into one of my pumps, causing a momentary panic on my part in wondering if anything fell off.

I am  aware that things could be worse. However, I am learning that this train of thought does not do much to assuage my fears and pain–physical or emotional. I find myself feeling somewhat less for acknowledging my struggles with diabetes–something that researchers and doctors continue to make strides in every day. Not to mention, I am blessed with caring family, friends, and amazing doctors. I look back over the last year with diabetes and could not imagine changing anything. Ok, maybe I regret a cupcake here and there, but at least I know that I am still giving it my all. Even when I feel like the weight of the disease and my associated anxieties keeps pushing me down, I know that at the end of the day I’ll stand tall against whatever weighs down on me. I know this because that’s how my parents raised me, that’s the Goldman way.

Like they say, this too shall pass. But even in the saddest of moments, I find myself hopeful for the future, for a cure, or at least a less invasive way of managing the disease on an hourly basis.

In the wise words of my father and (later) Taylor Swift, I guess you just gotta shake it off.

So while I’m shaking (hopefully not because of low blood sugar) it off, I’ll continue to seek care until the cure.

Stay tuned for some New York posts!

Stay classy and cool peeps

xoxo

That time of Year

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Sometimes I like to think (and I mean look at Monte Carlo!)

Sometimes I like to think (and I mean look at Monte Carlo!)

As usual I am feeling some sort of way. As a chunk of my friends graduate and move on from college, I’m reminded how quickly time flies. After a fun road trip to see some friends from high school days, I can’t help but glance in the rearview mirror while trying to keep my eyes on the road ahead. (get it? Road trip metaphor… I’m so good.)

After an (somewhat obvious) observation on my part that our time together seems to focus on “remember whens” instead of “let’s talk about our future fun as friends, etc.” my friend Lauren astutely pointed out that perhaps we’re creating new memories, just with other people.

I realized, other than the obvious somber tone of such a thought, that she was right. I’m creating new memories, new “remember whens” with new people. Going to school over 1200 miles away from my friends from home does that to a person. No longer am I calling up my crew from high school to make plans for the weekend, but rather get out of bed and walk into the common room to suggest an impromptu Froyo run, or a night out on the town with those around me.

It’s much easier to make memories with people when they’re two feet away, but the real test of a friendship isn’t time… it’s distance. That subpar notion about distance making “the heart grow fonder,” I find, is just something people say to make up for the miles apart, and the impending absence that he/she will have in someone’s life.

We can’t help these things. I feel as though admitting the fact that yes, I am not who I was 3 years ago, but no, that would not be normal if I were that same 18 year old, feeling all badass heading off to a big city but having no clue of the rough edges of the world. Miley Cyrus got it right, (stop rolling your eyes please, this is real this is me don’t judge) it’s all about the climb.

I digress.

Congratulations to everyone who made it through with their bad ass Bachelor degrees in whatever your heart (or parents’) desired. I could not be more proud of my friends who slaved away through endless hours of classes and papers and finals who walked across that stage this weekend, and wish I could have been there to watch you all take a step toward your futures.

Not to make this about me, but since this is my blog and my constant stream of consciousness sprawled out on the internet for the world wide web to see, I can’t help but think of how this will be me next year (if I pass my classes el oh el). Not to mention the constant graduation anthem, “As we go on, we remember/all the times we’ve shared together…” playing on repeat in my head (thanks Laguna Beach, forever team LC) despite the fact that I am a solid 12 months away from graduation.

Any who, as I gear up to head to NYC for the summer, leaving next weekend, the fact that this hopefully will be my last unpaid internship and summer before (fingers crossed) getting hired somewhere

for like… the real world, hits me. How can I be a real person? I’m 21 and have so many mistakes left to make ahead of me. But then again, I guess we all do. Boom, got all philosophical again.

While another school year comes to an end, and with it the beginning of summer, I hope you all keep making new memories. I know that’s what I’ll be trying to do with old friends and new. Woah that rhymed.

Use sunscreen and stay beautiful peeps!

XOXO

P.S. I MISS LONDON

Happy? Anniversary

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It's been a year?!

It’s been a year?!

This week marks my one year anniversary with diabetes.  365 days.

In some ways I think that I’m lucky, only having had the disease for one year. Plenty of type 1 diabetics my age live with the disease, and have lived with it, for the majority of their lives. I’m not going to lie, that induces a level of anxiety in me that I would probably deny. That being said, this last year proves one of the worst (RIP pancreas) best (abroad, new friends, getting another amazing opportunity to intern in NYC, traveling) of my life. I’ve lost my carefree days and settled for the adult lifestyle a tad earlier than I would’ve liked. I make decisions everyday that determine my future health, which is probably dramatic but also on a realistic level, true.

I constantly remind myself that I can bounce back from this, live with this, because I know people who live with worse, and that’s not self-deprecating or minimizing the disease or what I am going through–it’s merely fact.

A lifetime with diabetes looks like a walk in Hyde park (UGH I miss London) compared to any one of the countless other diseases millions of people live with every day. That being said, I do struggle with the idea of my family checking the box at the doctors office when asked if a family member has diabetes. This disease affects more than me. It affects my friends and everyone around me–something I’m reminded of every time someone mentions cake or cookies, or sugar in general and my family and friends look up at me, in an “I know you can’t eat it and I feel so bad for you” kind of way.

I find myself smirking every time I think of this one year mark as an “anniversary.” I mean, come on. Aren’t anniversaries supposed to be a good event, marking the passing of time since a happy occasion? Or maybe that’s just my quixotic view of the world, and the word. But also, the term “honeymooning.” I mean, tell me if I’m wrong (and I tend to be on occasion… el oh el) but when the doctor explained to me that my pancreas was/is honeymooning, i literally laughed out loud. I wanted to reply with, well who’s footing that bill? And can it come back from vacation and do its damn job?

Apparently, that meant that it occasionally worked, but was on its way out (which can last for up to five years or something like that. Not fun.) So, dear diabetes, please stop ruining words for me. Especially the “c” word: cake. I miss cake. If you’ve seen me recently, I’m sure you can tell to the extent I enjoyed food abroad (damn I need to hit the gym) but even in my indulgences, I limited myself (for the most part) on what I ate in order to maintain a somewhat level blood sugar for the majority of my four months abroad.

I know this journey will be hard, the road ahead not easy, but then I think of the greatest people I know, my family, my grandparents, my inspirations. Surviving despite countless battles, and making it to another day with a smile on their faces. I aspire to be that, well… inspiring to the ones I love one day. I want to be a voice sought during a time of need. I want to be the person that brings a smile to others. I want to be someone who is more than the constant complaining and discussion of diabetes, someone that can use their voice to help those who cannot be heard. I want to be like all of the greats before me, and all of the ones that will undoubtedly come after. I want to take all of my “wants” and make them into “am.” But alas, until i’ve reached that level of self-knowledge and ability to communicate and instill a level of comfort in others, I’ll gladly take the role of some girl who writes a blog every now and then, faking it till I make it, one insulin pump at a time.

I digress.

Now that I’m back in the good old U.S. of A, Land of the Free, Home of the brave, I have so much free time. Well, that might have more to do with the fact that I am back in my hometown, pining after my Euro trip and bubbling with excitement for my summer in NYC. Not a bad life I have to say.

Stay classy and expect another post soon!

XOXO

A Different Type of Low (Or, one in the same)

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I guess it takes a while for ideas and realities to set in–I’m learning that through every alarm beep of my cgm (continuous glucose monitor), new scar on my legs, arms and hips. With every highest high and lowest low of my blood sugar, a small piece of my past ebbs away and a newer, finger pricked-filled future replaces the carefree days of cake and fruit and chips and…. well…carbohydrates.

I shouldn’t complain–knowing that I am fortunate enough to have such a controllable disease with amazing doctors and family to support me along the way. But today, a coworker asked me a simple, kind hearted question that sparked the muffled flame inside of me that belongs to the idea that this is temporary. She asked something like, “How did you deal with that? Such a lifelong idea? How did you feel about that?”

Woah. How did I deal with that? I’m really not a big crier when it comes to sad things. I know, you’re probably reading this and thinking, what else could make you cry?! Well, friend, I am an angry crier. It’s like my tear ducts are connected to that burning sensation in your chest when something really makes you angry. Any who, I realized that I have not entirely dealt with the prognosis. I’ve accepted the fact that I have this disease, that my pancreas is not pulling its weight (so to speak) and that I have no other choice than to live with this. I did not even understand her question when she first inquired towards my state of mind after such a life-altering thing as Diabetes. I never thought, oh, I can’t do this. Sure, I say that all the time in a joking matter, but the fact of life is that we don’t really have a valid choice when it comes to surviving. I never cried because I refuse to believe that some genius out there will not find a cure sometime in the next 60 years. I refuse to entertain the idea that out of the 7 billion people on earth, millions of dollars invested in research and technology, and minds, out of all of these positive factors, one singular great positive cannot be reached. I know that someday someone will find a cure. Just like someone found a vaccine for polio, the mumps, and every other diseases from time passed. I do not want to pass this gene on to any children I might have in the (fairly distant) future. I do not wish this on my worst enemy.

As I reach the 1 year anniversary of being diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes, the rose colored glasses come off, and a sense of acceptance hits me with the pang as deep as seeing a beautiful cupcake that I cannot have, or the realization that gone are the days of carefree, spontaneity.

Despite my feelings of loss (RIP pancreas) for the old days, I still find myself inherently optimistic. I am not naive enough to think that I will be cured in the next 5 years, but I have hope that someday soon I won’t have to pull my shirtsleeve down over my pump so people won’t ask questions, or stare at my already formed scars on my legs and hips from my helpful, occasionally painful, and always elusive pumps.

So, I guess, it really isn’t all apples and icing, but maybe carrots and hummus isn’t too bad either?

Stay tuned for a recap on my adventures in Scotland and the last few weeks in London.

Le Sigh, I love it here, even if diabetes remains a foreign technological concept to airport security (that’s a rant for a different day).

Stay beautiful and classy, and yourself!

XOXO

Every Girl needs a happy place. Peeking back but Looking forward.

Every Girl needs a happy place. Peeking back but Looking forward.