All posts by aglaeagrace

About aglaeagrace

This blog is mostly to get me in the habit of writing weekly about my goals and keep me focused! We all want to be the best version of ourselves that we can, and I want to start taking some serious steps to becoming that person! I appreciate any feedback. =)

I don’t know why, but lately I’ve been thinking about time and how differently it feels now that I’m getting closer to 30. I never understood what adults meant when they said boring things like “time has caught up with me” but now I feel it. It feels like I spent my youth outrunning time, somehow staying just out of its reach and now I am very aware of how fast it moves. Years feels like months, months feel like weeks. It feels like I hardly have time to make dinner before the day is over.
I’m getting older.
There are clothes I can no longer wear because they aren’t age appropriate. People don’t think it’s so cute anymore when I wear glitter as eye shadow. I get annoyed when I feel like people in my age group are making bad life choices. Like, really, you should know better by now…
I feel older.
The things I want out of my 30’s are different than what I wanted out of my early/mid 20’s. Back then I just wanted to be happy. I thought that if I pushed hard enough happiness would be my reward. I found out the hard way that there are people who take advantage of that mindset. Yes, they will encourage you but only to suit their needs, with happiness as the carrot they dangle in front of you to just work harder. One day it will happen, they tell you, you just have to work harder and not question how all your hard work is giving them what they want while it just leaves you exhausted. It’s good to have insight about the goals of the past, but what do I want out of my 30’s?
I want my life to be my own.
Of course I still want happiness and friendships and love, but above everything else, I want the freedom to make my own choices. I’m terrified of making the wrong choices, as I’m sure I’m sure everyone is, but I want to be able to look back on my life and feel proud of what I have accomplished.
I have lost a lot of friends in the past 5 years. I have been through a lot of heartache and death. I don’t want these traumatic experiences to chain me to the past. I want a better future for myself.
I want to prove to myself that no one has the power to make me feel like I’m worthless.
I want to make my life something that my cousin would have been proud of.
I want closure. I want acceptance.
People say that time heals all wounds, but it really doesn’t. All it does is round out the sharp jagged edges, but that pain is something you always carry with you. Death, heartache, betrayal, these are barbs in your soul that feel impossible to remove. I don’t know how to move on yet, but I’m still trying. I want my life to be my own. I need to stop letting my past have so much influence on me.


Photoshop and sitcoms

I can’t stand phoniness. (I know what you are thinking and yes I do own a Catcher in the Rye shirt). Shows like How I Met Your Mother, The Big Bang Theory or New Girl have always upset me and I couldn’t really place why until I sat down and thought about it. I realized that they feel photo shopped to me. They take situations and people’s personality traits and enhance them in a way that looks and feels completely out of touch with reality.

Cause that would really happen. In real life. For real.

It’s easy to get a cheap laugh when you have a ton of props. Why don’t you try making us laugh because the actors and dialogue are actually funny? I feel like the show Friends did a much better job at showing how a group of friends interact with each other while still keeping that balance of being realistic and humorous. I know sitcoms are supposed to be a bit wacky and zany… but seriously can we not make it feel so forced?

Tell me I’m not the only one who feels like that was very overdone. No, please, I have to know that I’m not the only one.

I suppose this is more my personal issue with sitcoms because I would rather take real over obviously fake any day.


Maybe I am expecting too much out of sitcoms, but this is one of the main reasons why I don’t really watch TV anymore. It’s pretty pathetic when a show about two supernatural hunters trying to send fallen angels back into heaven feels more relatable and real than a show about a girl moving in with three strangers.

Morning thoughts

You know that feeling you get when you write a word over and over again until it starts to look like it’s spelled incorrectly? Blue blue blue blue blue blueblueblue. Blue. Maybe it’s that same principle of focusing too hard on one thing until it looks wrong, but I woke up and felt like my life has turned blue. Blue blue. Shouldn’t there be a w in there or something?

Mostly I’m ok. It’s just that sometimes I get up in the morning and have to remind myself of my life. For some reason, it still hasn’t sunk in that yeah, I’m a student and studying is my new socializing and I panic over my GPA with the same intensity that I used to save for moving or not having enough money to pay the electric bill. For those sleepy not-quite-awake-yet moments in the morning I could be anywhere. I could be any version of myself. I can be living with my ballet instructor in the fancy too expensive apartments that I couldn’t really afford but pretended that I could. (They came with a washer and dryer in the unit, thank you very much). I could be living with that weird guy in that beautiful house. (I liked that version of me a lot; I had blonde hair with pink bangs and felt all the power of being young and beautiful) I try not to think of the other places I could be, those other versions of myself that come out when I needed them to. That kind of thinking will break your heart, and I refuse to have a mental breakdown without a cup of coffee in me first.

So, who am I now? What version of me is there when I can feel myself slipping back into the role of my current life? I honestly don’t know. I don’t think I’ve ever known while I’m in the moment. It’s always looking back that I’m able to identify what kind of person I had to become. What role I had to fill. I don’t like feeling like I’m passively moving on a river that I can’t control, just adapting to whatever comes my way. I don’t feel like that’s the way life should be lived. I don’t know how to be more in control of myself, but I figured I can try and fail and try some more.

Let’s see what my brain comes up with when I ask it “who am I?”

I feel like overall I’m a better human being than I have ever been so far in my life. I’m more intelligent, or at least I have a better attitude about learning. I’m more compassionate and open minded…sort of. I feel like I’ve become more open minded to individuals and their circumstances, but more closed minded towards groups of people***. I’m more solitary and lonely and I hate it but I just have a harder time trusting people to not hurt me. It takes a while, but I will warm up to you, I promise. On the same note, I’m more paranoid of people’s motives and I hate that I’m constantly looking through the lens of “how could this be used to hurt me. Should I trust this person to help me? What’s my plan B if things go south? Can I leave and not get hurt?” I miss that version of myself who didn’t really care if she got hurt, she just wanted to have fun with people and make others happy.

Sidewalks have always just bothered me, so I walk on the edge of sidewalks, usually on the grass. I’ve had this fantasy of being able to afford to get a ton of mixed flowers and just handing them out to people with a smile. I want to make people happy. I know how difficult life can be, and if I can make someone smile during a difficult time, just ease the pain for a couple of minutes… it would be so worth it. Someone out there cares, someone always cares. People have told me it’s unrealistic, you can’t always be happy and try to make others happy. Maybe not, but I can always try. I can always smile at people and compliment them on something. I can’t afford flowers but I can smile and tell a guy with a frown on his face “Hey! I like your shoes, they look awesome! I hope you have a great day!”

I’ve never told anyone this before, but it feels like there has always been this small compass inside of me that takes over when I’m under too much stress. It takes away my emotional pain and tells me what path to take and I obey without question. It’s nice to have that, but at the same time I don’t like that whenever I try to question it, I get flooded with anxiety and panic. I suppose that’s me going into some type of shock and acting on my instincts. This compass has helped me in the past, but I want to get to a place where I can handle my own life without shutting down and letting my instincts take control.

I feel like I’m so much older than 27. I have a hard time relating to people my own age because I find that I don’t want distractions from my life anymore. I want to learn and grow and challenge myself to become a better person. I can’t change the things that have happened to me, but I can learn how to stop living just to adapt to the awful things life can throw at me and start really being in control of my thoughts, feelings, and actions.

***There is some truth in that the older you get the more conservative you become. I think it has to do with having more experience and perception on ideas of topics that you previously didn’t have. It’s easy to side 100% with a group when you are younger; after all, you haven’t seen the hypocrisy and what horrible things people can justify in the name of social justice. This is why I try not to side with any group these days.

Love the skin you’re in

When I was younger I used to think that you worked for me, and that I called all the shots. I used to call you my little bitch, and I meant it. I worked you mercilessly, with little nourishment, and even less gratitude.

One hot summer afternoon in high school I wanted all the weeds pulled so that I could get paid and start saving up to move out. I remember the heat, the way it felt in out lungs and how much the tears in my eyes stung. I refused to take a break. I refused to stop working, no matter what. My vision got blurry and I started dry heaving and I still refused to let you rest. “I have to do this I have to do this I have to do this” was the only mantra in my head; it drowned out all the pain. When I woke up and realized that you passed out from heat exhaustion I got so angry at you for failing me.

I hope that you can forgive me; I didn’t appreciate the nature of our interwoven relationship and I was doing the best that I could. I hope you understand I didn’t abuse you for the fun of it. I. Well. You know why I had to. I am sorry.

(And I’m sorry that I put us through that again yesterday. I should have known the signs. I’m just so focused and dedicated… and stubborn. I will literally work myself to death if my ambition overrides my common sense.)

I want to thank you for everything you have done for me; I know it hasn’t been easy with me being the one who is able to make the decisions for us. You have provided me with more than I could ever ask for.

My strong skeleton that provides the framework and protection of everything that I am; the marrow of which makes the cells of my blood which flows throughout my body providing nutrients, oxygen and protection against infectious diseases and foreign materials. Thank you for saving my life, and for healing properly allowing me to have a full recovery. I don’t think I would have healed as quickly emotionally if I hadn’t been able to walk again.

My muscles that enable me to push push push and never take no for an answer. Thank you for always being able to bulk up and adapt to whatever stresses I put on you. As frustrating as all your individual names are to learn, I am grateful for each and every one of you for doing as I command, when I command it.

My internal organs for quietly providing all of their functions. My brain for providing me with… me. My external organ (skin) for providing protection.

I am grateful for my health and ability to work as hard as I demand my body. My anatomy class has made me realize how many people aren’t as fortunate to have a fully functional adult body. I am so lucky to have my obedient, strong body. I am in love with every cell that makes up who I am.

It’s been awhile

Don’t look at me that way; I know I’ve been slacking on this blog. The reason? I’ve been dealing with a ton of anxiety and stress lately. Lately it feels like there’s always something going wrong in my life and I can’t keep my head above water. If I’m getting good grades, it means I’m neglecting my chores and my family is mad at me. If I somehow manage to balance all my chores, finances, school work and garden then I’m neglecting my boyfriend and friends and snapping at them for my own lack of communication.

I swear to God if one more person tells me that I “just can’t handle life” I’m going to stab them with my barbed soul.

I know I don’t talk about it often (on this blog or in real life) but I’m also dealing with PTSD. I had a dream about my cousin last night and I couldn’t go back to sleep. Every time I closed my eyes I had this fear that I was going to open them and be in the car, unable to remember my name. In the dream my cousin survived and I was the one who was killed. She had a baby with her husband and named it after me. Marissa (Mary) Ann. I don’t feel like I can accurately describe how this dream made me feel, so I won’t try.

Her being dead doesn’t lessen my love for her, or what she meant to me. I’m happy that I’m not in that suicidal mind set anymore. I know she wouldn’t want me to stop moving forward, so I will always keep pushing towards my goals. But I miss her so much. I just want to call her and hear her laugh. What good is all this technology is we can’t contact our dead relatives to say goodbye?

I have so much homework I should be doing, and honestly I wanted to write about this awesome vacation I just went on with my close friend to Portland, OR. I’ll try to write about that next time. Today I just feel like getting all of this out of me and trying to work on my math homework. And my Anatomy homework. And my English essay.

On why my soul is unapologetically comprised of glitter, rainbows, and unicorns.

So, I know I haven’t stuck to my goal of making an update a week, but this semester has been kicking my butt. I feel like at any second I’m about to be symbolically crushed under the weight of all the homework and studying, and physically crushed under the weight of all the books I have to bring with me every day. All my spare time is spent either hanging out with my boyfriend, jogging, or staring blankly at my tumblr dash, trying to laugh at some Supernatural gif I’ve seen already.

Basically what I’m trying to get at is that I haven’t been feeling all too creative lately. Like, right now I have this idea in my head about what I want to write about, but I have no idea how to put these thoughts of mine into words into sentences into paragraphs. I guess I’ll just start then, eh?

One thing that has always been a huge irk of mine is when people are arrogant without having any experience. I have recently had an encounter with such a person, and it’s just one of those things that are so difficult for me to shake off. I want to teach them the virtues of being humble, and how there is always, always, something new to learn. I want to scream from the roof tops that you can’t judge people based on what you see on the surface, everyone has a couple of scars that they aren’t willing to show you right away.

I admit that most of the time I act goofy and silly because it makes me happy and keeps me optimistic. I suppose that my bubbly personality leads some people to think that I have never had to go through any hardships in my life. YOU LIKE THE COLOR PINK AND AVOID CONFLICT, WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY KNOW ABOUT LIFE????

That all seems so ridiculous to me, I mean, why would I want to let myself be defined by my scars? I suppose a better question is why do we as a society value hardened souls as being more experienced and having more value?

I have accepted what has happened to me, and I have learned from these hardships, but I want to move on from it and grow as a person. I want to be happy and spread my happiness to others. I’ve been told from certain people that this makes me “weak” but I refuse to see it that way.

I think the world would be a better place if people could humble themselves and see that every single person has value. We all want to be acknowledged, accepted, and loved. I’m not saying you have to be friends with every person you encounter, but you should always assume that everyone is doing the best that they can and encourage them to keep trying to reach their goals. It’s so much easier to give into stereotypes, let’s try to spread love and optimism and watch how we flourish.

Tl;dr don’t be a judgmental dickweed. Blowing out one person’s candle doesn’t make yours shine any brighter. You know my name, not my story.

Steel and Gold

You once said that you admired my strength;
My unyielding resilience.
With downcast eyes you murmured:
“I wish I could be more like you.”
I felt like a fraud, an imposter.
You probably never would have guessed the words that stuck in my throat.

I wanted to tell you:
“The random luck of the universe saw fit to forge my soul
over and over until it became steel.”
I wanted to tell you:
“My will is a sword I use for protection.”
I wanted to tell you:
“No, you do not want to be like me,
I was created out of furnaces and hammers and water.”
I wanted to make you understand.

You have always been Gold.
Inherently valuable, immensely gorgeous,
and useful for so many things.
I admired the effortless way you made the world around you a better place;
your lustrous essence.

You told people:
“Giving to charity is the closest we can get to being with God on this earth.”
You loved unconditionally.
You told people:
“You can always call me, no matter what. I will always be there for you.”
You gave selflessly.
You told people:
“I just want to make everyone happy.”
Gold gives beauty into this world with no demands.

I wanted you to see yourself through my eyes
I wanted to tell you how much you mean to this world.
I wanted to tell you:
“I admire you so much, I love you, I love you.”

So much I should have said,
can’t ever tell you now.
Just, know this:
With all the strength in me,
I will always love you.

“I hate being a grown up”

Sometimes I feel like I did the early to mid-twenties backwards. Most of my college graduate friends are mourning their lost college days and freaking out over TAXES?!?! WHAT IS THE NUMERICAL SORCERY??? PAYING UTILITIES ON TIME?!!  FISCAL RESPONSIBILITY?? HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW EATING DONUTS FOR A WEEK STRAIGHT WOULD DESTORY MY BODY?? I CAN’T COOK LOL.

This is all stuff I had to figure out at nineteen. It boggles my mind that there are people in their late twenties going through these growing pains.

After high school, while most of my friends were out getting fancy degrees, I got a nine to five desk job. For six years I lived on my own as a fine upstanding tax paying citizen. I had to teach myself what interest rates are, and why moving into the super cheap ghetto-fabulous apartments may end up being more expensive than you think.

I spent a summer with a hole in the ceiling over my bed that dripped water. The landlord refused to compensate my ruined mattress and tried to charge me for the ruined carpet.

The first time I had to write a check I avoided it until the last minute until I meekly had to ask my roommate how it was done.

Under Memo I wrote “This is money.”

I’m 26 years old and I just started working towards transferring to get my bachelor’s. Six page essays fill me with the same type of terror my highly educated friends save for having to go to the DMV to renew their license.

On second thought, this place inspires a fear that no one can grow out of.

Lately I’ve been feeling sort of nostalgic for my working days. It was just so much easier. Yeah, I hated my work and it left me deeply unsatisfied, but it was easy and it paid the bills. And at least with work you are never expected to bring any of it home. I don’t have that kind of luxury anymore.

Learning humility


One of the (many) reasons I love my campus is because they encourage clubs to do fun and exciting events or giveaways to gain attention/more members. I practically ran (awkwardly, in heels!) towards these people when I saw that they had Klondike bars!

Yes, it’s January but, let’s be real, this is also Southern California. Cold ice cream was needed.

They told me that I would have to sit through one of their meetings to get their delicious ice cream bar.

What would I do for a Klondike bar? Apparently blasphemy.

The club was a Christian group and their theme today was on humility which struck a chord with me. You see, I have this internal struggle with being humble. I have a deep admiration for humble people, and I am also insanely envious of them because I am a vain, prideful person. I wish I could be more humble but I don’t like the idea of not being prideful. CONFUSED? SO AM I!

I think it might come from having so many struggles and setbacks in my life and having only myself to rely on, but I am fiercely proud of all my accomplishments. I never felt a presence of “God” during my difficult times, and I feel cheated when people give him all the credit for all my hard work. Hello? I had a hand during all those events!

If all the pain I had to endure during my difficult times was with the assistance of you “carrying me” I am not impressed by your strength.

My vanity comes from being ugly most of my childhood and early teenage years.

Apparently I was the ugliest ugly that has ever uglied.

I was bullied and picked on (one kid from middle school massaged dirt into my scalp during PE while my classmates laughed and I bit my cheek until I tasted blood to prevent the tears from rolling down my face. Another day the most popular kid in class came up to me and asked me out in front of his friends only to laugh and say “NOT! Yeah right, who would ever want to date *you*?? You’re garbage.” I like to think of my childhood as earning a Master’s degree in learning not to cry due to emotional pain.) but much like the ugly duckling, puberty was very kind to me.

Just look at that swan-like transformation!

I am more comfortable in my own body, and I like the way I look. I love my height, my long limbs, my big brown eyes and my short hair. I love wearing clothes and jewelry that emphasizes the things I love about my body, and I like it when people tell me I look good.

My spirit animal

That’s all well and good, but listening to the Christian lecture on humility gave me some serious twinges of guilt. I know I could stand to be more humble and less vain, I just don’t know how to not be proud of everything I have done. I don’t know how to be happy without expressing myself in the loud and vibrant way that I do. I love my brightly colorful clothes, my sparkly jewelry and being in the spotlight.

I guess what it all boils down to is that I don’t know how to be the type of person I want to become without losing the parts of me that make me happy. 

Steak dinners and Griffins

So, this is kind of awkward, I want to write and talk about my life and have people read about it but I have no idea what to say! Ah! What will you guys think is interesting about me? This is like an interview and a first date all rolled up into one agonizing paragraph!

So, howdy. My name is Milly Maxwell and I’m a 26 year old female in school for physical therapy.  Since I like analogies, I like to think of my work experience as a nice dinner, with the meat of the meal being my data entry work (6 years! That’s nothing to shake a stick at, right?), served with the mashed potatoes of my months spent in accounting/USPS, green beans of farm hand/feed store clerk, and hot delicious rolls of many Christmases spent in some seasonal retail position.

I’m literally hungry for work
I’m literally hungry for work!

I feel like I’m writing a cover letter. Maybe that’s because for the past couple of years I’ve been job searching non-stop, so cover letters and resumes kind of flow out of my fingertips whenever I’m forced to write about myself. YOU GUYS WANNA KNOW HOW MANY PROFESSIONAL AWARDS I HAVE WON? MY COMMUNITY SERVICE HISTORY?? WHY I FEEL WHY I’M QUALIFIED FOR THE POSITION, ANY POSITION, IT DOESN’T MATTER? I TOTES HAVE ALL OF THAT INFO MEMORIZED!

Things are a bit different for me now. Being a student means that I don’t have to live crushed under the burden of being Unemployed. I’m going to school and getting great grades and I can see a shining future ahead of me! Yeah! It’s awesome, but a part of me lives in fear that this is all just a dream and I will soon have to start applying 8 hours a day to meaningless soul crushing jobs that odds are, won’t even look at my application.

Being a student also allows me to express myself however I want.

It’s not just a phase, mom. This is who I really am!
It’s not just a phase, mom. This is who I really am!

So, that’s me in a nutshell. Hopefully I’ll stick to one of my New Years Resolutions and you guys can watch me get more in shape!