Name's Abby. Many pounds down; many more to go. On a serious journey to become the healthiest and strongest version of me in all the ways that count. Gym rat. Gluten intolerant. Floridian. Paralegal. Sincere as they come. Hopeless romantic. Workaholic. Love: My family, lifting, Paleo, fitness, Manhattan, art, fashion, tattoos, my Apple TV, traveling, and life itself.
Just bought a bottle ‘o whiskey.
You can be a parent who loves their children and loves being a parent without being a douche about it. You chose to get get knocked up and/or keep it. Don’t act like you’re better than everyone in the world because you’re a parent. Not everyone can have children or wants to have children. You are not superior.(I’m looking at you coworker with all your children by all different daddies!)
When I hear stories like the mom who tried to drive her van into the ocean to kill her kids, I get so upset. That could have been me and my sisters. Our mom wasn’t always well. She would tell us to not leave knives around because there was no telling what she would do with it. She had people try to pray the demons out of me because I was depressed. Mind you, it was depression due to the bullies at the church school. They stood over me praying in tongues. I could barely breathe because of how they were crowded in on me. They thought my labored breathing was the demons leaving me so they just kept praying harder. Never mind that I was scared out of my mind and had ten women standing over me. We were beat, cursed at, and neglected every day. There were a few times that she ran a red light and I wondered if it was intentional. Thankfully those kids survived and hopefully they will not have to grow up like that.
So yeah, I’d wish for a few hundred million. Probably immortality, if the rules allow for it. If not, a beautiful singing voice. But wish three—that’s the big one. I’d wish that no matter what shoes I wear it would feel like I’m walking on air. I’d wear the highest, most beautiful heels the world has to offer, everywhere I went.