The Hare With No Hair.

Candice. 2? years old. Cupcake maker. Lord Praiser. Now a runner. Who would of thought it eh?! Come follow me, I can't promise not to fall. I do promise to get back up.

So glad to see the back of this week. But not. More on that tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

My fourth 10k. With 43 members of RDC. Epic does not suffice.

Have I trained?

Nope.

Do I have a plan?

Nope.

Nervous?

Nope.

The more you do something, the less it is a big deal and I really, really had to take myself back to that Bupa10k in May to remind myself of the big deal that is tomorrow. For a lot of them it’s their first ever race.

I remember not sleeping. Not eating (Coronas and a pack of 20 Menthol, don’t count!) and generally thinking, ‘What the fuck?!’

But I also remember the sprint finish. The really loud ghetto obnoxious cheers from my friends. The medal *sly grin*

And I for one, cannot wait to be a part of that ‘first time’ feeling.

It all goes funny after that. You have a time to beat. An understanding of what went wrong. An obsessive need to ‘fix’ things, which in hindsight, don’t need fixing. All you need do is enjoy it.

The course comes with some bad ass incline, now if it is anything like RTTB (same area) I am kind of okay with that. I’ll just throw some utter derogatory rap on and that should do the trick!

AWAY! AWAY! AWAY!

Last 10k time was 1hr 2mins. Lets see wa gwarn!

The reception I am receiving for RunTheWorld is overwhelming! I love you guys!

Major shout out to my running fox Rhalou  for this !!!!!!

Went out. Had a BLAST. But need to stop burning the candles at both ends, Jamaica is too soon. EEEK!

Aint nothing like throwing on a ASOS/ZARA combo and telling the world to take an arena of seats!

Seem to have a thing for orange atm.

Thinking of wearing this to the airport.

Thoughts?

Yeah, i thought so too! ; )

Perspire2Inspire

xoxo

ps

I HAVE MOVED HERE !!!

*makes note to always wear a sports bra*

ps

I HAVE MOVED HERE!!!

Her name is Candie and she stays on the run, run, run….(thats what I hear in my head anyways!)

Less than a month before Jamaica. Am I ready? No. Am I excited?

HELLFUCKINGYEAH

WITHACHERRYONTOPAND

AMENTHOLCIGARETTEONTHESIDE

(still not smoking)

I am ill. Not in a flu, tummy ache way but in a ‘my immune system is not feeling these late night early mornings sex til the crack of dawn’in (that last bit is an exaggeration. Ok a lie. Whatever. ; )

Now before you fall over yourselves to bring me chicken soup and send get well soon cards, let me be honest in saying that I do this to myself.

Am I blaming the Skittles? Kinda (shout out to my loco Madre who returned from the W.I with the biggest bag of these lil shits)

My diet is peak guys.

I like to just eat spoonfuls of sugar. Now although I have had this discussion before, it came to head this week.

My family told me, my crew told me, my trainer told me. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.

But then a guy I like told me.

Once I’d wiped that ^^^^ expression of my mug, I kinda felt shame. I mercilessly disrespect the one thing needed to get through this. And thats really sad. *faux tears*

So here is to me getting better at this eating thing. No more rice krispie squares at 1am (going to miss those) or cola bottles for breakfast (caffeine, no?)

I am officially putting my childish eating habits to bed.

FML.

FML.

FML.

In other news I am OVERWHELMED at the reception of my efforts.

I have been getting emails that say I am an inspiration and so on and so forth and I want to make something really clear:

I AM A FUCKING WEIRDO WHO LOOKS REALLY AWFUL IN THE MORNINGS CANNOT FUNCTION WITHOUT COFFEE HAS NO PATIENCE  LIKE THINGS DONE MY WAY OR NO WAY EATS SHIT BARELY SLEEPS SPENDS TOO MUCH MONEY ON SHIT THAT DONT MEAN SHIT AND WILL CONTINUE TO TYPE IN CAPITALS JUST SO YOU GET THE POINT!

LOL

What I am trying to say is that you need only make a choice. ANY CHOICE. Not a plan, fuck a plan (all now there is no plan for this) A CHOICE. An affirmation based on what you want for yourself and watch how the mighty hand of God finds a way to make shit happen.

I am a super normal woman, with a supernatural idea. That is all I know.

That really is it.

So while I really, REALLY appreciate emails of support/slander and sexual invitation (strange but nice…I guess) I have to remind you that I am just like you. Take this challenge as me taking one for the team. But sooner or later, Imma need you up to bat and I demand you to bring your A game. Not for me but for yourself.

Perspire2Inspire

xoxo

PS 

I HAVE MOVED!!!!

www.thetorotisewithnohair.com

sas-sevilla:

moveyourbooty:

REAL PEOPLE ROCK: the candice in LONDON edition!
MYB is going global for this RPR post to feature Candice in London! Check out not just her insanely awesome and huge goal of running a half marathon on every continent for charity (WOW!), but also her tips on surrounding yourself with people who inspire you to be and do who you want. Clever girl, indeed. Keep it up!! And keep us updated on all those continents… amazing!
1. Where do you live? London Town, UK!
2. What’s your favorite way to Move Your Booty? running, yoga, cycling, free weights and dancing all night of course!
3. What’s your greatest MYB accomplishment so far? Taking 17 minutes off my 10k time.
4. What’s your current MYB goal? to raise as much money as I can by running a half marathon on every continent for HIV/AIDS charity; Avert.
5. What’s your favorite workout song/pump up jam? Kanye West “All of the lights” even though its been out forever, when I need a boost for that last mile, it gets me every time.
6. Whats the one piece of workout clothing, equipment or accessory you couldn’t live without? Nike Lunarglides. Before I began running, I hated trainers (sneakers) now I live in them, it feels as if I am running on purple coloured clouds!
7. What motivates you? The crew I run with, RunDemCrew they all inspire me to go harder and faster. Also, improvement, I only started running seriously in January and have three 10ks and two half marathons under my belt.
8. If you could share one workout secret with the world, what would it be? Understanding you are the company you keep. If you want to become fitter, hang out with fit people and when you feel like you are falling short, watching them excel powers you through.
*9. (extra credit): What’s your workout style? Aka SWEATstyle. Brighter and Tighter! I love dri-fit snug capris and also love having my sneakers (trainers) customized, it makes me feel special. No matter how sweaty and smelly I am post workout, I still want to look good!
REAL PEOPLE ROCK is a series all about featuring hardworking, real life people like you and me who are out there every day giving life their best shot. And to me, that is inspiration at its finest. 
Submit your answers & photo to be featured on MYB! moveyourbootyblog@gmail.com

The hardest working person I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.
You need to see what this girl is up to! xo

sas-sevilla:

moveyourbooty:

REAL PEOPLE ROCK: the candice in LONDON edition!

MYB is going global for this RPR post to feature Candice in London! Check out not just her insanely awesome and huge goal of running a half marathon on every continent for charity (WOW!), but also her tips on surrounding yourself with people who inspire you to be and do who you want. Clever girl, indeed. Keep it up!! And keep us updated on all those continents… amazing!

1. Where do you live? London Town, UK!

2. What’s your favorite way to Move Your Booty? running, yoga, cycling, free weights and dancing all night of course!

3. What’s your greatest MYB accomplishment so far? Taking 17 minutes off my 10k time.

4. What’s your current MYB goal? to raise as much money as I can by running a half marathon on every continent for HIV/AIDS charity; Avert.

5. What’s your favorite workout song/pump up jam? Kanye West “All of the lights” even though its been out forever, when I need a boost for that last mile, it gets me every time.

6. Whats the one piece of workout clothing, equipment or accessory you couldn’t live without? Nike Lunarglides. Before I began running, I hated trainers (sneakers) now I live in them, it feels as if I am running on purple coloured clouds!

7. What motivates you? The crew I run with, RunDemCrew they all inspire me to go harder and faster. Also, improvement, I only started running seriously in January and have three 10ks and two half marathons under my belt.

8. If you could share one workout secret with the world, what would it be? Understanding you are the company you keep. If you want to become fitter, hang out with fit people and when you feel like you are falling short, watching them excel powers you through.

*9. (extra credit): What’s your workout style? Aka SWEATstyle. Brighter and Tighter! I love dri-fit snug capris and also love having my sneakers (trainers) customized, it makes me feel special. No matter how sweaty and smelly I am post workout, I still want to look good!

REAL PEOPLE ROCK is a series all about featuring hardworking, real life people like you and me who are out there every day giving life their best shot. And to me, that is inspiration at its finest. 

Submit your answers & photo to be featured on MYB! moveyourbootyblog@gmail.com

The hardest working person I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.

You need to see what this girl is up to! xo

(via tinypaintpot)

 

Its been a very strange week for me. November has come around a lot quicker than I would have liked and I am caught off guard but the feelings this page on my calendar encourages.

Sometimes I wonder about how different, for better or worse my life would be if Dad was around. He was my sounding board and no one can come close to him in terms of wit and honesty. I have just about stopped getting teary eyed when I see a packet of jelly babies, let alone in a place to admit that he is never, never coming back and no amount of futile praying is going to change that. le sigh.

This week also saw me peel back a couple of layers of myself.

I am in my early twenties and I know exactly what I want. This seems to frighten people. As the retort is;

Pah, you’re so young, live a little!’

I am living. I am living a life that I am very comfortable with. It may not involve any of the radical pastimes my peers are enjoying but best believe, I am getting my kicks.

Hoping to meet someone who understands that. Anyone. Just someone that encourages my version of ‘fun’ that would be awesome.

Yesterday, I was ready to peel away from my desk at work and head to a personal training session. I LOVE my own company and have strict rules about keeping my work life and personal life very, very separate.

But then Tim (my crush) and Adrien (my lovely muse) talked me into ‘living a little’

If you lot have been readers of this space for long, you know who T(o)im looks like! ; )

So I went. And spent most of the night trying to hide from the camera

Vodka and Cranberry, since I was 19.

I was having a great time. Catching up with Adrien was a godsend. By 9pm I was ready to call it a night. So I slipped into my Nike outerwear and tried to say my goodbyes. But then I was roped into a evil drinking game!

Apparently I have a very cheeky face but slide under the radar because I’m cute. Who knew?! lol

Apart from a rocking hangover, I was glad I went. Nice to let the ‘hair’ down, once in a blue.

So, I am slowly learning to ‘have fun’, ‘relax’ and ‘live a little’ but it has to be said, once you know who you are and what you want, remain true to those ideals. Compromise and leave room for error but don’t let the expectations of others dictate the path you choose.

This morning speaking to Jack, he said ‘Candie, there is no rush. Slow down. You are doing too much. You have the rest of your life.’

And thats when it hit me.

I no longer am wearing a cloak of immortality. Once you have dealt with death, the watch you set your life by starts to tick really loudly and you are aware of every second. So it’s like this; so what if I am tired and hardly know my left from my right?!  I am living right now. And that is all I can be sure of. The rest of my life is not promised. I have to work with now.

In other RunningGearFetish news:

OMFG. Jamaica swag in full effect. Please, please, just take this in!

once more for those in the cheap seats;

POW.

This is weird for me cause shorts are way out of my comfort zone. But, who gives a shit. Really? Exactly

I am not playing. RunTheWorld is gonna be a smash. Cause my wardrobe says so.

Perspire2Inspire

xoxo

p.s 

www.thetortoisewithnohair.com

Will be closing this space down as of December! 


I been worryin’ that my time is a little unclear

I been worryin’ that I’m losing the one’s I hold dear
I been worryin’ that we all live our lives in the confines of fear

And I will become what I deserve

I have moved!

www.thetortoisewithnohair.com

Perspire2Inspire

xoxo


I like to shop. A lot. Before this running thing, I was mainly interested in shoes. Shoes so high they would induce nosebleeds and you would lose so much you were pronounced dead on the scene!

But as I have done more of this running thing, I have tried to find ways to get my style across in a very ‘monkey see monkey do’ hobby.

Many of us at RDC suffer with a #RunningGearFetish which see’s us dropping cray-cray change on clothes that we fell will enhance our running capabilities!

Of course thats a lie. But our delusions of grandeur are not all ego fed. Said items do make us feel better about ourselves. And thats the important thing. At a time where you smell like a meat market and can barley utter your name, looking good kind of softens the blow.

So, I’m a detective, I like to source out things I’ve never seen before. And even if i have, I then like to get aggy with a pair of scissors (Jamaica is not ready) 

Below are some things I purchased stumbled upon last night 

      

NikeLunarMax+2

via RRR

*sings* Is this love, is this love , is this love that i’m feeeeeellliiiiinnnngggg?!

Woah. These remind me of my first ever running kicks. Exact same colour scheme but flyer! Yes, I could bore you with the info on the flywire and new internal support, but i don’t give a shit. They are cute righhhhhtttttt? I am a LunarGlide chick til I die, but I would gladly take this hybrid for a spin.                                                 

                                         

Sweaty Betty; Adrenaline Capri 

Bloooooood. How I wish the pic was bigger so you could appreciate this op art tactic visionary shit right here. Coming in at £70 I consider these bad boys a treat, but babe, have all your deliveries redirected to your work and the fella don’t even need to know. 

                                                

Stella McCartney for Adidas

I CANNOT!!!!!! I love Nike with all my heart. But this right here……SMASH!

If you are anything like me, you want to wear your leggings at any given time, not just for running. How about running errands in these bad boys? Pair ‘em with them Gucci Python shits (awaiting that sale like the 2nd coming) and watch snake looking milkshake bring all the boys to your yard!

                                       

                                             

LUCAS HUGH 

Coming in at £150 each, I sat up for a long while thinking about how I was going to snag an Arab Sugar Daddy with oil money he would like to spend on me. So yeah this is fantastical, darn right outrageous moola to drop on workout clothes. But then, this is me we are talking about. We should always be well dressed, even in our dreams!

       

And finally, the jacket to dead all jackets. The MOTO Destroyer. I have no info on this badboy. All I know is that I want in. Help a girl out, I beg!

And for now, thats a wrap. I’ll keep my ear to the streets/tweets and let you know when you might wanna start dropping new skills in the bedroom and leaving post it notes on the fridge!

Perspire2Inspire

xoxo

Both the public & private response I had to my last post was overwhelming. It took me a while to decide if I publicly wanted to open up like that. I am glad I decided to. Our hardships are not to be worn as armour, but rather badges of some sort of honour. Allowing us to help those who then find themselves on similar paths. 

Awesome things are happening. Not by chance of course. But you know me, I’ll explain that later…

Watching this space grow has been tremendous, every time someone mentions the ‘Tortoise with no Hair’ I feel as if I am hearing about my child who is growing up to do dope things. The thing is, with what is going on, my journey is out growing this here ‘space’  I feel like we can only go so far without getting caught up in the tumblr hype, you know?

So say if i was going to….well you know….run the world….and then document that….and make a wee website doing that….would there be anything you guys want to see more/less of? Let me know, I’m open! (minds outta the gutter peeps!)

         

Lat weeks RDCSouth run, saw me cursing everyone with gloves. I made it my business to get some. As the nights get longer & the wind harsher, we must not cease training but remain protected against the elements.

       

The Amazing Atticus rocking the much coveted Nike X GYAKUSOU jacket.

       

I am so addicted to these, its unreal. When my fav dude is in the front desk at the gym, he gives ‘em to me for free. (u didn’t think those legging were just for show did you? lol. hells no, use it to your advantage ladies!)

     

Spotted this is a magazine. I mean…….LOLS……you know me guys!

       

Sometimes I forget what I should be focusing on. No more. I am getting ready.

Perspire2Inspire

xoxo

Things will never be the same….

I came here via C-Section after I took my mothers body through 27hrs of labour.I came out blue as i had already attempted suicide after wrapping myself in the umbilical cord. From day one I made it known that I do things on my time. 

I was the first child of both my parents, Richard Michael Brown a banker with a sharp tongue and sharper attitude and Junnie Joanne Brathwaite, a reserved young woman who saw beauty in everyone.

They split when I was 8 months old. I was primarily raised by my mothers father Bentley George Brathwaite whom had moved to the UK from Barbados when he was 21years old. He was sat next to a woman of the same age, who he liked instantly. He would later court her and make her his wife and they would be married for 37 years.

My childhood, while ad hoc was perfect to me. I would see my Dad every other weekend and I was the apple of everyones eye. 

While my mother and Nana went to work my Grandad was my primary carer. Following a mugging, he was left blind in his left eye and unable to work. He made raising me, his number one priority.

I remember my Grandad teaching me how to ride, a yellow BMX my Dad had given me for my birthday. He locked me in the garden. I was not allowed in until i had mastered the art of balancing on a two wheeler. I cried. Then I learned to ride.

He attended every parent evening, class assembly and doctors appointment. He would iron every thing, down to my hair ribbons, which he would tie in disabled looking bows before taking me to school. Without fail at 3:30 he would be there, pipe in one hand and a milky bar in the other.

On weekends, my mum & nan would take over. Dance class began at 10 and they made sure I was never late and never missed a class. Front and centre. They would watch my lesson and try and interrupt the teacher if they thought I was not being seen too.

I spent summer holidays, climbing trees in Barbados and winter ones, picking out a new BMX with my Dad. Dad was Mr cool. I remember the first time he took his hands off the steering wheel. Ray bans and leather gloves where part of his seasonal uniform.

At the top of the Empire State Building, I pushed the camera in his face ‘How do you feel dad?’ My eight year old reporter self questioned.

'Like the man.' he simply replied.

And for a while he was.

My sister was born when I was seven. I hated her and what she had done to my family. All of a sudden, there was a new man around and this gorgeous baby everyone gushed over, while I tried to do dancing pony tricks in the background. Anything for attention.

My Dads house became my haven. Time where I got the attention I craved. Peter Andre and Spice Girl posters covered every inch of my bedroom walls. Playstation games lay all over the floor, stuffed animals lined the bed like a personal version of Noah’s Ark.

Occasionally Dad would knock on the door. 

"Cand, you decent?" 

"Yeah’

He would perch himself on the end of the bed. A white robe would hug his growing beer belly and a steaming mug of coffee would be used as a prop of sorts.

He would remind me that I could talk to him at anytime. About anything. We would make plans for the day and promise not to get on each others nerves. Then we would get on with it.

As they years moved on and the posters got removed, he was more aware of my personal space and stopped by less and less. 

But we would stay up until gone midnight, then I would climb into his bed. MOTD would be on the TV and we would perform our ritual. One leg out of the duvet. A pillow to hug and one to sleep on. Glasses off and thrown askew below the bed.

"Night Dad"

"Night Cand"

At Thirteen we decided that sharing a bed was no longer appropriate. We were both heartbroken but understood it was for the best. loll

My brother came around when I was fourteen. I loved him instantly. Upon his first night home, he slept on my chest and I promised him, that no matter what, I would be there for him. 

I grew up. And Out. 

Attending a performing arts school, I was having a good time. I was young. Then at 15, I had my first boyfriend.

"This won’t last." Dad quipped as I cancelled another dinner meeting

"I think your jealous." I teased

"You are right."

The boy and I spent every waking day together. It was as every first love should be; damaging and excessive.

But then my mum was diagnosed with Cancer. Everything moved but didn’t I became a zombie, who between coursework and cleaning up vomit, couldn’t do much.

The boy became a really important fixture in my life. I pushed everyone else away and clung to him.

Mum went into remission when I was 17. And Dad was as supportive as he could be. But I pushed him away, all I wanted was the boy.

A the years passed we stayed together. Much to Dads annoyance. 

I studied, Drama, Art, English lit and Government and politics at A-Level. I had no idea about what I wanted to be but my folks never put any pressure on me. I worked with Dad at Birnberg Pierce and Partners law firm. I was the first out of my friends to have a job. I spent money like water. my lack of responsibilities enabled my ‘only live once’ mentality.

At 19, I became my brothers legal guardian. This was not a shock to me, nor a disablement. I had to make good on my promise.

Between school, work and making sure my brother and sister did there homework, I had not thought about what I wanted from life.

At 20, I stumbled across the chance to spend three months in India.

I rang Dad first.

"India? Fucking hell, Cand. Let me call you back."

*an hour later*

"Sorry, I had to let that digest. Trust you. You’re a fucking hippy anyway. Should be right up your alley. Go. Live a little before you become ‘that guys’ arm candy"

Three months later, I had a rucksack strapped to my back and I was off.

Needless to say, it changed my life. And sparked something within me. I wanted to travel.

How could I pull this off? I had the responsibilities of a 40yr old.

I found away. I promised Dad that when I was finished, I would return home and head to uni.

I spoke to a friend who was travelling and had picked up a gig as an english teacher. At 21, I packed up all my worldly goods and moved to Napoli, Italy. It wasn’t easy. I missed the boy. Weekend flights would have to suffice. The inhabitants were unforgiving but the views made up for any cantankerous meetings. 

I was living.

I spoke to Mum and Dad everyday.

They both seemed happy. 

Mum was in an amazing relationship and by the looks of it Dad had avoided a mid life crisis.

Christmas was approaching. Dad had booked my flights home seeing as I had blown all my money on a new pair of expensive shoes.

I reminded myself to send him an email of thanks in the AM. Plus he had come down with flu and I wanted to thank him.

Awaking bright and early that Sunday morning, I followed a routine. An espresso, followed by a apple juice. Walking barefoot out onto the balcony, I let a menthol extra slim hang from my lips as I watched filipino cleaners brush off rugs across the way. Wendy the dog, followed me until I sat at the table and she proceeded to nestle underneath my legs.

It was early and the sun was high. A crow swooped down onto the table. I shooed it away angrily. I was furious.

huffily, I headed back in and booted up the computer.

My emails looked suspiciously full.

After I had finished writing Dad, I would respond. After a thanks and many virtual kisses, I attached pictures that looked like I was having ‘safe fun’ I giggled as I pressed send.

Less than a minute later, he replied. He was usually quick but that was super fast, even for him.

It was from his office. Weird. 

I didn’t read it.

"Dad, the office network has gone silly again. Fix it pronto. Love you"

Again within minutes, I had a reply. I read this one.

'CANDICE PLEASE CALL US URGENTLY'

That’s weird I thought. 

I dialled his house number. It was engaged.

I froze.

In the nine years, that my Dad had that number, it had never, ever been engaged.

The penny dropped.

Before, I could think about it I was crying.

I rang everyone. My Nana thought I was over reacting. But I just knew.

It couldn’t have been ten minutes but my Nana rang me back and confirmed my worst nightmare.

"He died yesterday."

"Not my Dad’ I shot back.

Needless to say, it was. What had begun as flu had actually developed into septicaemia. My Dads vital organs had been attacked. He was on his way to an Arsenal game when he decided to stop at Whipps Cross hospital cause he felt too bad.

Upon arrival, he had difficulty breathing, they saw to him straight away. Within minutes of being seen in a cubicle he had a heart attack which sent him into cardiac arrest. He fought. Kicking over a doctor in the struggle to stay alive. But he lost. My Dad died alone. Blackberry vibrating in his pocket, I was the last missed call.

I came home. I planned a funeral for someone I barely knew. Twenty one years was no time at all. As if to confuse me even more, Mum was getting married. I slipped back into my supportive part time mother role. I understood late night and early mornings.

Grandad came with me to see Dad in the chapel of rest. The boy wanted to come but I wouldn’t allow it. 

The man in the box sure did resemble Dad. But he was cold. And the unfavourable work the mortician had done on his face turned me off. I stroked his head. I asked him why. I fixed his tie. And kissed his head. I almost jumped into the coffin.

The funeral is a balck hole in my mind. Only ever acsessed when I am alone.

Everyone and no one attended. 

Life moved on. Without me. The boy was as supportive as ever.

I had to go. Again.

In March I went to Switzerland, staying with the same friend who encouraged me to travel.

Although, I was suffering some violent stomach cramps, it was what I needed.

I returned. And the cramps persisted.

Mum urged me to make a doctors appointment. I did.

And then cancelled it.

Life kept moving. I started baking to take my mind off grief.

The cramps returned in May.

I made a doctors appointment and stuck too it. 

Still bitter about the fact their homeboys couldn’t save my Dad, I flung myself down like a sack of potatoes in the doctors chair.

She asked my symptoms.

I told her.

Then, shit got ridiculous. 

She asked me to take a pregnancy test.

I giggled but headed of to the toilet anyway.

These doctors are so dumb, I thought. I just told her my period was lasts week. Jesus. I pissed in a pot and headed back to her little tomb.

I watched as she stuck a little papery thing in my piss.

I watched as nothing happened.

I watched as the faintest blue line crept upon it.

I watched as she watched me.

"As I thought" She said.

I watched as she wrote ‘Positive’ on a label, screwed the lid on my piss and put it in a tray with other mothers to be piss. 

I was frozen.

She talked. And til this day I am aware of only one thing. Three months.

It was warm. I wanted to go home but walked in the opposite direction.

I was walking to Camberwell. I stopped at a chemist. I purchased seven pregnancy kits. Different brands. Just to be sure. I came out and kept walking.

I walked to my friends house. 

I emptied the contents of the bag on the kitchen table. 

Half an hour later, I was going to have a baby, I suppose.

Everyone inclusive of the boy and Madre, where over joyed.

I was not. I was overwhelmed and ashamed. I could see Dad’s eyes pregnant with disappointment.

"Does that mean, I can’t live with you anymore?" My brother asked.

"No." I assured him as I hugged him. "Us two forever, ok?"

Weeks passed. 

Then a baby passed.

Swiftly followed by a Seven year relationship that could no longer carry the weight of grief.

Looking at each other became a pain, not a pleasure.

The dark clouds were rolling in, and I was locking my doors.

I turned off my phone.

And did not reappear until November 2010.

I suppose you are wondering why I wrote all of this. Just laid my life bare for the entire world to see. The answer is because I can. 

It’s not enough for me to post some cute outfits, or rambling videos.

In order for you to understand where I am going, I must be grown enough to let you know where I am coming from.

I have nothing to hide. Not a single thought in my vacuous young mind is original. But I hope my intentions are.

Its more than running. Its finding something to live for when you feel that everything that was worth something, was taken before you truly got to appreciate it. 

By the grace of God, I have yet not found the strength to extract myself from this realm. Which is good. Because I am not yet finished.

Perspire2Inspire

xoxo

This is the bomb ass outfit I copped at NikeWomen in Amsterdam. This is the shit my dreams are made of. I swear to baby Jesus in a Hermes blanket

Perspire2Inspire
xoxo

This is the bomb ass outfit I copped at NikeWomen in Amsterdam. This is the shit my dreams are made of. I swear to baby Jesus in a Hermes blanket

Perspire2Inspire
xoxo