Let’s Be “Real” Women


It drives me mad to see “real women have curves, skinny women look like little boys,” or “when I see my ex-boyfriend’s new girlfriend and she’s a troll, I laugh,” or really any saying that makes a woman feel the need to put another woman down to feel better about what she eats (or doesn’t), her genetics, and/or how well she conforms to beauty standards.

We should be better than that.

We should understand that people are made differently. Some women were born to eat lots of cake and still be tall and skinny, and some were made to be a little plumper while munching on celery, and that’s okay.

We should understand that no man is worth tearing down a fellow woman’s appearance or even character. We should be good enough to understand we are more than our fat percentage and how that makes men perceive us. We should understand that if you were with a man that is shallow enough to stay with you because you’re the “hottest” he’ll ever have, you are a fool, and so is he.

We should be good enough to compete for more than our hip to waist ratio, but for real accomplishments that require a mind, a soul, and a heart. We should be good enough to understand that we have a point to prove and using our brains to come up with clever ways to jab our fellow woman is 5 steps back. We should be good enough to expect to be loved for our intelligence, for our humor, and for our integrity…

We should be good enough.

I know we live in a society that tells us beauty is this monumental thing. I have been guilty of comparing myself to an ex-boyfriend’s current fling based on how much more attractive I am than her, instead of who we are as people and what we’ve accomplished in life. I have felt the sting of being an honors student and thinking “but am I pretty?”

I’m definitely not above that, I have fallen into it many times, but I pull myself back out, because I want to be good enough. As women, we are kind of wired to correlate beauty with success and love, but I have to be better than that, and I have come to expect that from anyone I give my time to; because that’s what “real women” are, not a size 0 or 12.  

Much love,

Lucy Loves Life…and women that know better xx


Getting over Shlomo (I’m baaccckkk)

Hey guys, I know it has been a while, and trust me, it wasn’t without reason. I’ve been through quite a bit in the last month, if you hadn’t guessed from my last two posts. I went through something that shattered the hopes and dreams I had for this blog.

I started this blog to chronicle the life of a girl that was getting over a break up like a strong, independent woman, that didn’t need that man. However, deep down, I had kind of hoped it would chronicle a strong, independent woman, that was going to follow all of her epiphanies and adventures until they eventually lead me back to my happily ever after, in London, with my boy (we will call him Shlomo).

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The day of my last blog post, that underlying dream was stomped into the ground, once and for all. Not because I am not going to London, not because I failed in what I set out to do (because I am still doing both), but because my knight in shining armor, was just another douche bag wrapped in aluminum foil.

The day before my last post, I went to bed with tears in my eyes because I missed Shlomo so much it hurt. I thought about how special he was to me, and how love like ours didn’t happen every day.

Well, that all came to a screeching halt the following day and I think it is fair to say that heartbroken was an understatement.

I talked to Shlomo after he had given me the “I’m super busy, I can’t even send you a text” speech for a month… and till this day, I wish I would’ve just declined his call. Why? Because it was in this conversation that he told me he could see his life without me in it (after I spent the night crying, because I couldn’t), he said that what we had wasn’t all that rare, and that he doesn’t really miss me all that much. I felt as if someone had punched me in the chest, I spent the night crying over a boy that I was just a cool side activity for.

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I will admit, I texted him after we hung up with the slightly dramatic words of a woman in desperate need of attention and affection. How did he reply? A verbal lashing with no semblance of an apology. He made the hurt I felt at his crass words, my fault…again. At first I was angry and hurt, but then I realized something… I am young, intelligent, ambitious, mildly attractive, and I deserve a lot more than that. And I don’t mean a better guy, I mean a better quality of life than the one I had chasing after someone who would never really love me.

I would’ve cut off my right arm just to see him smile, and after that little incident, I realized that I deserve more than a life filled with worry, anxiety, and the inability to share it with him because I knew he would punish me for it. I am difficult to love, I get it. I can be insecure, moody, irrational, clingy yet cold, and sometimes I am completely unable to say what I mean…but it’s who I am, and even though I strive to make myself better everyday, I am still human, and I refuse to be berated for it.

I have come to realize that the world is my oyster, and I don’t need someone that makes me feel like a worthless, pathetic woman, anywhere near my world.


So you see, I didn’t blog for a while, because a month ago, this blog post would’ve been about a girl who was heartbroken, yet again. But after a month to sort it all out…it’s about a girl who realized her worth and potential for a happiness.

Shlomo will always be special to me. He was my first in so many respects, and at the end of the day, he taught me just how capable of loving someone I really am.  I will never forget the happiness we shared together, and even though it wasn’t special or rare to him, I will always hold the (false) sense of unconditional love and security we shared near and dear to me, because at the time, it was magical.

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At the moment, I am a tad resentful, but maybe in another month’s time, I will think of the crazy in love, once in a lifetime, passion we shared with great fondness, instead of being unable to move past the fact that it wasn’t that way for him. He has moved on, he has found a girl that gives him everything I did, and it’s time for me to do the same thing.

I have a million different emotions towards this whole situation, some of resentment, some of regret, a lot of happiness, and even more bittersweet feelings…I will eventually get around to sharing them all, but I hope you guys understand why I needed to take a step back and catch my breath. I so appreciate your continued support and occasional kind words.

Much love,

Lucy Loves Life, with or without Shlomo xx

Failure in Perspective


Failure, one of my biggest fears. The fear that has been getting the best of me. One pretty insane down side to having such huge dreams, is the occasional thought that there is SO much room for failure. This whole growing up thing is new to me, and I, like many ‘kids’ my age, am just now learning how to cope with all the pressure (mostly self induced) that comes with growing up and and realizing that all those dreams I’ve had are now becoming goals and realities.

As I learn to cope and maybe even thrive, I find it useful to keep everything in perspective. I do so by asking myself a few crucial questions that I will be sharing with you all today with the hope that it may help silence your panicked brain too.


The most crucial question I ask myself is, what would I want to do with my life if failure wasn’t a factor?

In the next five years, I want to go to school in the UK, I want to have a successful blog, I want my fairytale to end happily ever after, and I want to finally find my happy place with health and fitness. The possibility for failure is insane, and acknowledging that can overwhelm/scare the crap out of me.

Some days that fear gets the best of me, and sometimes it fuels me to work harder and be even better. Either way, I’m not giving up. I choose to see that failure is not an option unless I allow it to be. Without that burden, I can see clearly just how amazing it would be, if and when I accomplish those things.

So what makes you tick? What would you do if failure didn’t exist? Would you leave the country?  Would you apply to Harvard? Would you start a new diet/exercise regime? Would you work towards that job promotion? What crazy, over the top, dream would you turn into a goal?


Another important question is, why do you want your dreams to become reality?

I want to go to school overseas because I want the challenge,  to be on my own, to find out who I really am, and to gain the experience of studying in one of the biggest cultural hubs in the world. I’ll only be young, single, and free for a relatively small amount of time, so I might as well do it right!

I want a successful blog because it will allow me to form a little online community, use my passion for writing to express myself, and even give me a source of income without working a 9 to 5 or hassling with an international work visa. How awesome would it be to work from home, in between classes, and make enough money to independently fund my little European adventures? Uhh, you’re welcome mom and dad.

I want to fall in love and live happily ever after (preferably with someone that’s okay with the fact that I’m a wanderlust) because who doesn’t? I’ve already got someone in mind, but that is one of the few things I’ll leave to fate/destiny/ all that other crap love makes you believe in. Last but not least, I do want to get to the point where I can stop wrestling with my body. I want to finally strike the perfect balance when it comes to my health and fitness that will truly me allow me to have a lifestyle instead of a chore.

When I put into perspective why it is that I have such huge, failure prone dreams…they become less scary and more awesome which makes them all goals worth working towards.


Another thing to ask yourself, but NOT to dwell on: What’s the worse thing that can happen if I fail?

One of the hardest things to keep in mind is that I may fail. In fact, I probably will somewhere along the line. But does that mean I’m just a failure and I should give up? If I had to take a guess, I’d say no.

So what if I do miss a step in the UK university process, or my blog doesn’t take off as well as I want it to, or something really does go terribly wrong? What is the worst case scenario? Will I be miserable? Will the world end? Will I suck at life forever? Will I be 42 years old, naked, in a bean bag chair, eating Cheetos? Chances are, the answer is also, no.

Keeping in mind that failing doesn’t actually make me a failure puts SO much in perspective. I have loads to gain from trying and only succeeding in half of my ventures and so much to lose from just giving up now. I have nothing to fear, because even the worst case scenario is still pretty good, so why not risk it and shoot for the best case scenario?

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Last but not least, what is my overall goal for life?

My biggest fear is getting to the end of my life and feeling regret for the things I didn’t do, and the people I didn’t love enough. I don’t want to sit in a hospital bed (or wherever I am when I go) and think about how much I wanted to travel Europe but I never did because I was scared, or how much I loved my first love but I gave up on my ‘once in a lifetime’ because sometimes it hurt to love him. I want to live life to the fullest because I only have one. My overall goal is to do everything I love, and to find my happiness with the ones I love.

At the end of the day, I want to be a wife, a mother, and a lover of the life I have created/been given. If I can do that, there is no failure or regret, only happiness, and that’s all I could ever ask for.