am i ready for this type of commitment

I don’t understand you. Dear my– what are we? I can’t call you my lover because I am not in love with you, but you’re in love with me. Is it because of the flowers? I just wanted you to feel pretty. I guess I’m not looking for commitment. I admit it. You are right. I am afraid to open up. Scared to take chances. The irony, right? Love is all I write about, but I run from it. Why did you have to fall for me? Conversations under the stars, it was perfect. Feelings fuck everything up! It complicates things. We are drifting apart and I am sorry. I guess a big part of my identity is just not ready for love. The good ole’ it’s not you, it’s me type of thing. Fucked up, right? I think you’re attached to me, the last time I felt that way– it broke me. I’m not ready for that. There’s too much earth out there. Too much of the unknown. I want to see myself happy by myself before I’m ever in love with anyone again– baby, won’t you forgive me? No always and forever this time. No more hurting. Just a coward trying to be brave.

our unexpected life: p3

right, it is very long- and I mean it. but I can say wholeheartedly that I am proud of this little series so thank you for reading- and to the anon who requested in the first place. 


(and I have got my last 2 days of writing sorted, thank you to those who requested and as I said I’ll be back in July)

p1/ p2 

Sitting down in front of each other, a tea in grasp and blowing lightly against the ripples forming, observing the steam glide towards him and away from me. “There’s plenty of successful couples with big age gaps.” He insisted as he wore a heavy look of confusion between his brows. 

Placing my mug down I keep my hands wrapped around it for warmth as I tuck my legs under each other behind the metallic chair. “Come on, like we are the first ones.” Sarcasm rolled off of my tongue, resulting in a small smile to form on his face momentarily before going back to a harsh look of concentration. 

“Name a couple then.” He retorted and placed his hands around his mug, eyes locking with mine with such intent it was as if I were back in school being asked to answer the question in maths that no one knew. 

Rubbing my lips together I bit my tongue as my mind scanned through every celebrity couple, playing an elimination game. Lingering on one I blurted it out, “Trump and his wife.” 

His eyes dropped along with his shoulders, unable to hold back the disappointed sigh. “Not the best example.” I began to chuckle in response, only triggering him to join in. 

As our laughter faded we went back to the quiet, it no longer being quite so comfortable knowing we had to talk about it sooner or later. This being the latter of the options having suppressed the urge to blurt it out or suggest it as we walk by the beach. “I’m going to go back home the day you go.” I want to mutter it, let it be spoken without the feeling of it hanging in the air heavy. Instead I speak loudly, making him finally here it. 

“No no I get it, it’s your summer break and you have friends back home wondering about you.” He was mumbling, distracting himself, being uncomfortable and avoiding my gaze. 

Leaning across the table I hold my hand out to which he picks it up, drawing invisible triangles into my palm. “It’s not just that Dan, I mean we’ve been together for a year now and this is your biggest part of tour.” The triangles stopped, instead he held it lifelessly. “You’ve got to prepare and all since you’re going in three days.” Sighing I struggle to hide the irritation that itches away at my thoughts, never ceasing as the day grows closer. “And I, I’m nervous.” I mutter the last half, unsure how else to possibly word it.

His grip tightens on mine, “Why’d you be nervous? It’s only four months.” I can’t help but let out a dry laugh to his response. Pulling my hand away from his with some force as he grasps onto my fingertips, not wanting to let go. 

“Do you hear yourself?” I retort to him as his eyes remain blank, “Four months, that is almost half of my course in second year done.” Still, nothing besides him retracting his hands, cupping the mug tightly instead of my hands. “That is four months of me trying to not come across as needy, not wanting to seem desperate in wanting to hear from you.” Sighing I push my hair out of my face, taking a deep breath. 

“And I’ll spend those four months trying to not coddle you from thousands of miles away.” His voice falters as he tries to maintain eye contact, struggling to evidently. “We did it before with two months, we can pull through.” 

My eyes searched his for anything besides optimism as mine held reality, how the two of us would probably feel miserable one month in. We barely scraped out of the last leg of tour, only having dated for six months then. Smiling supportively I reach my hand out to intertwine with his and sip my tea, “We’ll be okay.” I mutter more for myself as opposed to him. 

Waking up knowing what today would bring feels demotivating. It makes my chest heavy, as if I can’t move out of his arms and want to treasure every minute we have together as if it were our last. Turning around to face him I tried to take internal snapshots of his sleepy form, how his brows creased together leaving small lines like those on his suit shirt. The way he wore a small smile as I shuffled closer into him and subconsciously his grip tightened around me and rested his head in the crook of my neck, mumbling nonsense. 

Smoothing his hair back I refused to let the tears fall, to allow the emotion to creep in. For the time being I have to be strong, defiant. I refuse to be weak, but deep down he knows I’m crumbling. Last time I saw him off for tour I was excited for him, enthusiastic to see his adventures when he got home but the second I saw him depart I broke down. I remember having him come up to me, tap my shoulder and hold me tightly in his arms, kissing me one last time and wiping my tears as his eyes watered. 

It’s not easy, saying goodbye to those you love. Four months can seem like nothing or everything. Neither of us are sure which yet. 

The two of us began to get ready in silence, neither of us able to commit to a conversation as all I could do was focus on the suitcases we had laid out before us. Going down the stairs I got a single message from Will, ‘how are you?’ a fair few responses came to mind as I looked at the message. Physically, able. Emotionally, struggling. Mentally, close to breaking. 

I’ll be alright, always am.’ I typed back and placed my phone away as Dan came down the stairs, his eyes gloomy like the London weather outside despite the early hour it is. “Tea, coffee?” Breaking the silence it sounds too forced despite me standing by the kettle. He shrugs in response and sits down, looking at his phone with an unreadable expression, refusing to shift his focus away from the brightly lit screen. “Look Dan, how does this help either of us?” I clench my teeth, unable to hold it back. 

The silent treatment on the day we both leave, I go back home, he goes around America. “What’d you mean?” He asked as his eyes remained on his phone. 

“I mean, you sitting on your phone. Me trying to not get upset about someone I love so much ignoring me in the last hours we have together before you leave.” Sighing I turn my back to him, waiting for the kettle to boil. 

The chair scrapes across the floor as I hear him huff, “Now who is acting like a child?” Quick to retort I turn around, glaring at him as my eyes blur with tears. 

Blinking I shake my head to him, the anger melting from his eyes as he realises what he’s done. For months I put up with his friends teasing me, I dealt with the comments online, I tried my best to keep it lowkey at Uni but somehow I couldn’t. Someone called me naive, that I had no idea what I was doing. That was the start of it all, the turmoil that followed through. Whatever I did I was called names, a ‘sugar baby’ a ‘hoe’, ‘slut’, ‘user’, ‘bitch’, ‘desperate’, ‘fake’, ‘kiddy’, ‘pathetic’ and so many more worse names. 

He knew how much hurt I went through, not that he didn’t get out of it with a clean slate but those fans adore him too much to hurt him, so they hurt me instead. Muttering my name as I ran past him up the stairs he held back, he knew his mistake. Picking my phone up I ring the first number I see on my phone, “I’ll be in touch soon, I’m sorry in advance.” I gush to him as he follows with various questions, completely caught off guard. “Just listen Will, I don’t think you’ll be seeing much of me anymore. But thank you, thank you for the friendship and constant kindness.” 

Hanging up I grab ahold of my suitcase, passing the photos of the two of us and the others on nights out, on our trip to Rome that I always dreamt of. As I reach the top of the stairs he hovers at the bottom, eyes cast over and hiding the blue sky, the sunlight I could use. He notices the suitcase in my hand and sadly shakes his head. “Please don’t go, not like this.” He whimpers and sniffs loudly as I pass him. 

Grabbing a hold of my arm and I turn to face him. His face is tinted pink at the cheeks but consumes his eyes, the once fluffy white clouds surrounding the stormy blue darkens, as if the rain is soon to come. “I can’t do this Dan,” Sighing I pull my arm away. “I’m sorry. I just don’t think we can make it through like last time.” Placing my cold hand against his warm cheek I catch a tear as it falls and feel it weave through my fingers. 

Removing my hand before he had the opportunity to hold it one last time I pick my bags up, ignoring the rings of my phone and walk out of the door. Hearing it shut slowly and lock I can feel it rising in my chest, the pain, the regret and the instant heartache as tears fall silently, no sound to be heard. 

Tapping my pen I rest against the fabric chair, staring at the title of my essay unsure how to begin. ‘How does Plato use the world of forms effectively to create an image for society and does this reflect in modern day?’ It was too wordy, bloody Plato and his world of forms. Sighing I put my pen down as I reach for my phone, a month of radio silence from him but a phone call every other day from Will. The day I left I phoned him on the train, the anger I’d never heard from the one with the soft voice. It took me a while to ease into conversation, then one night we FaceTimed. Immediately he pointed out how much of a mess I looked, in the background I could hear that laugh I subconsciously craved. 

I regret shutting down after that, the look I gave Will of fear and ended our call. He tells me somedays how Dan seems brighter then other days all he wants is to talk to me but doesn’t know how. ‘Do you still have feelings for him?’ Something he tries to ask every week, some way to make me express the truth about it all. It is undeniable, I hear a split second of his voice on someones phone and dwell over it all day, the heartache that is etched into my soul that increases with each passing day. 

Would you want to see him again?’ Today’s question, courtesy of Woody as opposed to Will. Pondering the thought I glance back to my essay and write the introduction then flick back to my phone. 

Yes. No. I’m unsure. I hate him. I love him. My heart can’t take the toying. My mind can’t cope with the abuse. My self can’t deal without him. 

Thinking through all of my options I pick my text books up and leave, wander towards the one place I can get clarity. As I see it in sight my heart twists, it feels as if my intestines have wrapped around my heart, squeezing at the nostalgia of distance flutters I had when I first met him. The smell of salt and dry seaweed, ‘fresh’ fish and chips, seagulls squawking at any who interrupt their required meals. 

All followed by the memory of our conversation, of the first time he spoke to me. The awkward stranger and the comfortable girl. Who’d of expected it, who’d of thought I’d return over a year later alone; me. Sitting down I hold onto my phone as I glance down to Woody’s message, I can’t imagine a life when I don’t hear his laugh or see that smile aimed at me. The way he’d listen to my thoughts like no one else would. How we’d dance when he was jetlagged, the glint in his eyes when I laugh or play the keyboard.

I’m afraid.’ Sending it I know it’s true, the apprehension that lies deep inside of my thoughts about the rejection, being unwanted by the one I want more than anything else. 

Closing my eyes I can almost feel him here now, sat next to me admiring my photography. The two of us walking along here, exchanging names and pleasantries like it was nothing. Neither of us knew we’d get this deep, we were naive in it all. 

If I’d been warned falling in love was this dangerous would I have backed out? No. As if I stayed clear I wouldn’t have lived, the memories I’ve made and the things I never thought I’d experience have happened. Someone I didn’t expect to love has left a hole in my soul unable to be fixed nor filled with anything sufficient besides his love. 

Opening my eyes I text Will, the first thing I can think of that’ll make any apparent sense. ‘I will always love Dan, and have done since our fourth date. He’ll know why.’ Smiling as I sent it I walked by the old coffee shop, even today I remember all of the orders and take a trip inside. 

Ordering myself a tea I sit down near our spot, I can picture us there now. Date number four, though we never called them dates as we were too nervous to title it so soon with something so official, serious. We continued to discuss paintings, my little knowledge and his combined into something else. Our conversations only got deeper, until he told me about the one night where he just stared at the sky and felt something else. He convinced me he was sober but I thought otherwise as he wore that mischievous smile. The more he talked the more comfortable he became around me, all barriers were down and we were fully exposed. There was almost a vulnerability about it that I’d never witnessed but loved. His eyes lighting up as we drank tea and laughed. 

That was when I knew I loved him, and wished for it to never end. 

Leaving the nostalgia behind me I went home, back to my flat and noticed a newly framed photo, one I’d never noticed. Suspicious I called out, yet there was no response. Letting out a hesitant sigh of relief I wandered through to my room, dumping my stuff but heard my phone ring. 

“Hey Will.” I place my phone on loud speaker as I tie my hair up, a wave of tiredness hitting me hard like the water does to the battered pier I love dearly. “I’m at my flat, why?”

“Just wondered, you available to talk for a bit- face to face?” He suggests and I agree as normal. “Just open up your door then.” 

Pausing I stare straight at my door, imagining my dear friend on the other side I hadn’t seen in months able to talk to me without fear of judgement or barriers. For once I didn’t have to wipe tears away and he’d be unaware, I could face him and laugh like old times. “Are you at my door?” Mumbling I edge closer to it, wishing I had a peep hole. 

“Open it and find out.” He chuckles in response. 

Gripping onto the door handle I speak up loudly, knowing he’ll hear it on the other side through the thin panels of wood. “If this is how I die then I will not be happy.” Opening the door I stutter on my words, unable to speak nor close my mouth. 

“Have fun.” Will cautions and hangs up, leaving me alone. 

Leaning against the door frame I tuck my phone into my back pocket, feeling as if I’m back to square one. His eyes remain focused on his feet, the same black converse and denim jacket as always. “Hi.” He mutters to me and slowly lifts his head. 

As his eyes lock with mine the tightness in my chest eases, the warmth that thawed out the pain inside increased as I felt myself smile slightly, slightly. Analysing the other details of his face I can’t help but sigh, the bags under his eyes have darkened, the stubble forming a ginger beard that I always liked. “Hi.” 

It’s as if we are on our first ‘date’ again, neither of us knowing where to begin. “Can I come in?” He politely asks and I move aside, holding the door back as he walks in, hiding his hands. “Before I explain everything I wanted you to have this.” Placing a thick book down on my small coffee table it is a simple black book, stuffed full and neatly tied with a black ribbon. “Go on, please.” His eyes widened with hope so sitting down on the sofa I took the deceivingly heavy book and untied the ribbon. 

My cheeks instantly heated and a smile unexpectedly formed. Flicking through each page I heard a chuckle escape my lips and glanced up to him, the similar look reflected that I wore. Each page of covered in candids of me, of us that I had never seen. Little slips of paper and tickets or leaflets included to remember the day for what it was. “When, when-” 

“The day I left.” He knelt down in front of me, holding my hands in his. “I knew I’d made a mistake in letting you go. I, I was afraid of losing you.” 

Staring at him intently everything returned, the laughter echoed through the rooms, our late nights captured in these photos. Everything that I’d forgotten represented in this, tied up nicely with a bow- maybe even too nicely. “I, I love you Dan but I’m scared of getting hurt again.” This time I didn’t avoid his gaze, I kept a clear focus on it. 

“One more thing,” Reaching into his back pocket he pulled out a folded up photo, making me laugh lightly as I held onto it. 

The first photo I ever took of him, well the blur that he was in the photo. Smiling at it I opened up the book, placing it on page one. “It belongs there, as that’s where it all starts right?” I raise an eyebrow and he nods, a sweet smile forming, the one unique to any I’d seen since I wandered the campus. 

“They’ve known this whole time haven’t they?” Asking him he merely smiles, the glint in his eyes returning. “And yet here we are, oblivious to it all until it was too late.” 

“Sometimes those who are meant to be can’t see it. It is so unexpected that it is too good to be true.” Standing up he lifts me with him, wrapping my arms around his neck I move closer to him, “But then there are those who get lucky.” Smiling down to me I lean in, and it was true. 

We were the lucky ones after all. 

anonymous asked:

Ship Please? I'm a pretty quiet person & bc of that people think I'm mean or bitchy, but honestly I'm just the type of person who only speaks when spoken to or when I have something legitimately important to say. I'm not like most girls that guys tend to like bc I'm low maintenance, I dont wear a lot of makeup & I don't dress up often. Honestly I'm a "one of the guys" type who loves sports, guns, movies. But once I'm with someone I fall hard & I am the most committed person you will ever meet.

Hmm, I can see you with Happy. I feel like out of all of them, he’d be the least bothered whether his lady was stereotypically “girly”. He’d love that you speak your mind and only say things that are relevant, because he does the same. (He’d also be grateful that you wouldn’t take a million years to get ready, lol)

Originally posted by come-join-themurder

Thank you, hope you like ;) 

Bold the traits of each type of love that are most  relevant  to your muse.


[  EROS ROMANTIC LOVE  (  Sensuality,  Intensity,  Passion  )  ]

feels strong physical  (  & emotional  )  connection through the relationship ||  begins with a partner who is a stranger  &  evokes immediate excitement  || exclusive but not possessive  ||  seeks early sexual adventure, variety  &  technique  ||  is ready for love  & the risks.

[  LUDUS COMPETITIVE LOVE  ( Teasing,  Attention,  Fun Before Commitment )  ]

is not ready to commit to anyone  || has no intention of falling in love  ||  is anxious about a partner who is too intimate  ||  allows early sexual activity only for fun, without emotional connections.

[  STORGE FAMILIAL LOVE  ( Loyalty, Siblings and Friends, Commitment )  ]

is not looking for love but is ready if encountered  || is quietly possessive but not overly jealous ||  believes love comes from friendship but not a goal of life ||  only has sexual desires after commitment is declared.


[ MANIA OBSESSIVE LOVE  ( Obsessions,  Possessiveness,  Jealousy )  ]

is anxious about falling in love  &  has expectations of pain  ||  quickly becomes overwhelmed by thoughts of their partner  ||  forces encourages partner into showing affection  &  emotion  ||  is easily frustrated  &  does not enjoy sexual intimacy  ||  is very possessive  &  jealous.

[  AGAPE ALTRUISTIC LOVE  (  Unbreakable,  Forgiveness,  Wholistic )  ]

is attracted to several types of people  ||  meets people easily so most likely will begin with a stranger  ||  feels concern  &  care for each partner they have  ||  is neither jealous nor obsessive  ||  enjoys sex  &  is willing to improve it.

[  PRAGMA PRACTICAL LOVE (  Rationality,  Realism,  Collaboration )  ]

is certain of their preferable “types”  ||  begins a relationship with an already familiar person || believes a loving relationship is desirable for a happy life  ||  expects reciprocation with feelings  ||  believes sexual compatibility can be worked out.

Tagged by: @charmingmisfortune (thanks!!!)

Tagging: i dunno who’s done what hot tagging meme so feel free to steal it

I am not an ‘almost relationship’ kind of girl. Not the ‘I’m going to be super sweet toward you one night and then act like I don’t care the next.’ Not the ‘everything is going great but suddenly I’m going to pull back because I’m scared and complicated and this is too much.’ Not the ‘I don’t want to put in the effort that it will take to be with you, but I still like you and want to hook up with you so I’ll just half-ass it and do the bare minimum.’ No. I am the kind of girl who you connect with - the kind of girl you need to fight for, make an effort for; I am not the kind of girl you can make a half-ass commitment to. I don’t do things “almost.” Because “almost” will never satisfy me. I won’t accept a “good morning” text as effort. I won’t accept that romance is dead or that people don’t fully commit anymore. Maybe it’s dead for those who accept “almost” - who don’t know how love or commitment looks like, sounds like, feels like. But I give too much to receive an “almost.” I offer too much to waste my time with a guy who gives me almost what I need - a guy who is not yet ready for love, a guy who is afraid to say too much, to feel too deeply, to let people know what they mean to him. When you’re with me—you commit to me—you don’t have one eye wandering at the options. Because you understand my value. Because you’re not impressed with easy - you understand that easy will never satisfy you. It will be sweet but uninspiring. It will always leave you wanting more. Give me your time, all your love, take me on a crazy adventure. Take me dancing cheek to cheek, spoil me, make me feel special every day. Show me consistency. I don’t need you to tell me you love me and then pull a 180. It’s not enough to know that deep down, you care. You can’t just say the words - you need to actually show me, with actions, consistency, commitment. Being hot and cold doesn’t mean you’re enigmatic - it means you almost want it, but you’re not ready for it. And that’s not enough for me. No, I’m not an ‘almost’ relationship type of girl. I am not the girl who accepts bullshit excuses - the excuse that you’re in a very difficult time in your life and you can’t give me what I deserve. And I won’t make excuses for you - that you’re “complicated” or “just being honest” or scared because you like me too much. If I don’t mean enough to you to make the effort to be with me fully - you’re not getting any of me. Don’t even try to message me from time to time and say something incredibly romantic.
Because I am the girl who will change your life, who will make you better. I am the girl who will never stop fighting for you, I will love all your wrongness, all those parts of you that you hate. Dating me will not the end of your liberty - it will be the beginning of it.
I am the girl who will frustrate the hell out of you because I will challenge you, I will never let you get away with slacking on your talents. I will never just go along with some resemblance of a mediocre, passionless life. I’m not an 'almost relationship’ type of girl.
I am never going to settle for someone who doesn’t put me first. Someone who’s too lost or scared or desensitized to understand that I am the type of girl who makes you feel alive, understood, who will make us live the fuck out of our lives; and who’s too passionate to settle for an “almost” anything.
—  anonymous 
Signs as things I typed to my boyfriend on Skype
  • (I'm a pisces and he's a cappy)
  • Aries: "god damn stop being hot for fucks sakes"
  • Taurus: "ur like those taco bell sauces. ur mild."
  • Gemini: "DONT BUY A DILDO"
  • Cancer: "fight me but with cuddles bro"
  • Leo: "does that mean im grandma? but bro i am not ready for that commitment"
  • Virgo: "i am knowledgeable. i know more bout boobs."
  • Libra: "u make me heart go weh"
  • Scorpio: "if you're that kinky then okay"
  • Capricorn: "ur ass is flat like flat bread"
  • Aquarius: "nipples are sensitive bro"
  • Pisces: "im just kinda laying in my bed waiting until my face isnt like a face"

Recently, it’s been very apparent the universe wants me to open up a bakery. This list might be a way for me to reinforce it for a later date since I’m a smidge busy moving into my first ever house right now ;)

  1. You Bake Like it’s Nothing. In the middle of a party? Cupcakes. On a busy workday night? Chocolate Chip Cookies. While on the phone with a best friend crying? Banana Bread. It’s just a comfort to keep my hands busy, to do something while having company and get them excited - it’s just fun!
  2. The Facebook Ads. Have you seen them? The ones that say “use this app to start your own business today!” Mine happen to be catering and bakery related. Probably because I like about a million food blogger pages and only search for recipes.
  3. The Potato-Salad Kickstarter. Oh yeah, this totally popped up on my feed 1000 times in a week. Saying “If these guys can do it, why can’t you?” But kickstarter in general, I’ve even kickstarted a bakery in the past. Why not?
  4. Crumbs. Okay, this may sound backwards - but. I work down the street from a crumbs location, and I totally did a walk-by to see what it was like inside, and if I’d want to buy the store to have as my own personal bakery location. Also, yes I realize that crumbs was a large-scale bakery chain that failed, but I know that in my business plan I wouldn’t just do oversized cupcakes and coffee. I just like variety, as does the general populace. ;)
  5. Your Coworkers Want to Get you Fired - but in the nicest way. People not only look forward to my baked goods, but they almost expect there to be something on my desk. Someone having a bad day? They wander over to me for something sugary to bring them up. I have actually had someone say to me “I hate cookies, and I love yours. I want to get you fired so you can share this with everyone else.” Another even sent me a picture of a woman quitting via icing on a cake, and said “this is clever, but don’t get any ideas.” 
  6. Food Network. I say this because yes, I do happen to watch a lot of food network instead of other standard TV shows. Last night I saw a food blogger win cutthroat kitchen. Cupcake wars? Yeah, I know not to bake Florian a red velvet cupcake unless it’s the best one you’ve ever made. I’ve watched the Great Food Truck Race and thought 100 times over that I could make a pretty killer dessert truck, but Food Network shows you that no matter what your stature in life is right now, you can take it and mold it to what you want it to be.
  7. KItchen Priorities. Okay, let me explain. For cooks and bakers alike, a big kitchen is a dream come true. My husband and I are on the verge of buying our first house, and during the process we looked at the listings for at least 150+ houses, and my number one need was a big kitchen. A kitchen that I can entertain in, move around in, with lots of storage space and an island. Not only did I get that, but it looks out onto a back deck, has a double oven and a butler’s pantry (A.K.A. an extra stretch of kitchen). I was super picky about what I wanted, and I am still in disbelief of how we managed to finagle it.
  8. Two Broke Girls. Kat Dennings. My personal hero. Even if she isn’t a baker in real life, Max Black is seriously the best on-air inspiration for a girl who doesn’t think she can make it. Yes, it’s a scripted television show. But who doesn’t love a girl with a dream of a purple oven and a little catering/window shop in New York City? I’ve thought it over 100 times, on what kind of shop I’d see myself owning, and I always come back to the Two Broke Girls setup, with a window and a catering kitchen.
  9. The Indie Movement. I say it this way because I feel like it makes sense, and I think I relate it back to indie gaming. Felicia Day said in one of her videos that we’re living in the renaissance of indie gaming - truth. I think we’re living in an era where we’re so much more for supporting the small business owner (Amex anyone? Etsy?), so opening up a “mom and pop” type of shop is not only encouraged for authenticity and uniqueness, but also much more doable in this day and age. I say that without any knowledge behind actually owning my own business, but I’d like to think that being able to get a loan or kickstart a bakery with a neat concept would be more doable than what I have in my head. A lot of work, for sure, but completely manageable. 
  10. Being A Millennial. Okay, this might get me some flack - but hear me out. I am a millennial (boooo!) I work hard. I went to school, I was lucky enough to find not one, but two jobs in the past 3 years since I’ve graduated, and I pull my weight like hell. Millennial’s get a lot of crap because we’re a little more driven by what we love than past generations may have been known for - basically, we won’t stand to be upset at our jobs anymore. We demand a work/life balance, we demand to be treated with respect and paid accordingly. Unfortunately, that skews a little more dramatic than not most of the time. At any rate, this type of mindset has planted seeds in my head for driving my future. My future as a baker, a blogger, a designer, etc… it’s inspiring me to use my spare time differently, it’s showing me that my career field isn’t all there is for the rest of my life. I can do what I want to do, and I can gather the resources to do it.

I question this list every day, but I know there’s a lot of validity to it. Am I ready for that type of commitment? No, I don’t think so. Soon, though. I’ve already started doing some side projects for people if they have events that would be better with desserts, so I’m learning little by little how the job might be if I choose to accept.

Share this if you’ve found joy in the little signs in life saying you’re doing the right thing ;)

<3 bakerhi