Why The Best Place To Grow Up Is Near A Beach

Why The Best Place To Grow Up Is Near A Beach

If you have grown up near the ocean, you know what I mean

There is nothing more soothing than the sound of the waves and shells crashing along the shore,

Or the feeling of the Florida sun beating down on my skin.

The beach will forever have a chamber of my heart and has been a special part of my life ever since I was a little girl. From the crazy beach curls I like to call my hair to finding the perfect seashells to make jewelry, it is ...

A place where memories and laughs are shared with important people in my life

A place where my family, friends, and I come together and share moments that are captured through memory and pictures

A place with an affiliation of only good times and vibes.


There is beauty everywhere you turn

This picture above was is when I watched my first sunrise and is one of my favorite pictures. We climbed to a spot that can only be reached in low tides. I will never forget the sound and the mist that sprayed when the waves crashed endlessly into the wall when we least expected it. A moment of glory with good company captured by a lens.


Growth of appreciation for the little things

Now, don't even get me started on sea shell searching. I could spend hours on end looking for the perfect shell to use as a necklace with its self-made holes. When my brother and I were little, running through the sand and throwing ourselves into waves brought us so much self-entertainment and joy. The only downside I would have to admit is finding shells and sand in our hair after countless showers.

I bring a piece with me each time I leave.

Not a moment is wasted when you're at the beach even if you're laying (most of the time napping) on a towel.

It's a place to clear your head and a time to take a step back from reality to reflect. I find most alignment and rhythm when I'm down by the sea.


The car rides to and from

We all have those go-to car ride playlist to fill each mood and nothing beats a car ride with the perfect tunes and your passengers as the hype mans.

Any songs that I would listen to on the way to the beach such as Bon Jovi, Aero Smith, Queen, Steve Miller Band, and many more classic favorites I affiliate them to good times in my life.

There is nothing better than driving along the coast with the windows down as the sea mist fills your lungs and as music flood your ears.




A place where memories and laughs are shared

Even the memories of the muddy sand fights I would have with my brother I still cherish. Siblings sometimes are there just so we can pick on each other, but we always laugh it off and continue to try to catch the next wave or the fish that was way too swift for us.

Food for thought: There are fish that actually eat the dead skin off your feet and you can't even feel them doing it! (I know sounds creepy right, but it's really a thing)

I don’t remember exactly what I see or events that take place every time I go to the beach, but it’s the feeling of rejuvenation that it leaves me lingering with each time.


"Nothing truly beautiful ever asks for attention, it just naturally exists, as it is, in confidence and boldness." -Bianca Sparacino

I think of this quote when I think of the of the beach, the sunrise, and the sunset. Whether someone may witness these wonders or not, it happens every day and we have to keep that as a reminder to also take care of this Earth.

As I currently reside in sunny South Florida, I think about the day where I may not be near a beach anymore due to moving around and living in new areas.

Little life lessons will be with me forever that I have learned by being emersed with the ocean and to always remember to float on with the unresting tides of life.

Everybody should find their own safe haven if they don't have one already.

Notice the things you are grateful for and soak them up while you have them.



Cover Image Credit: Alyssa Corneille

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The Heart of a Vision: Sustaining a Movement

A Sanctuary for Me Too

I was sixteen when I was sexually harassed as I walked into a church sanctuary for a Sunday morning worship service. My offender? A deacon. A respected elder of the church who handed me a paper bulletin that morning. By the time I realized what had happened, I was surrounded by the holy silence of the church’s sanctuary atmosphere. This all took place in an echoing room that was literally named refuge, haven, and shelter...a room intended to be a safe place.

I was seventeen years old when the closest man in my life physically assaulted me in front of my mother. The man I had respected for his patience let petty anger manifest itself in a raging attack.

I did not strike back. My parents taught me to be respectful of my elders, but that’s not why I didn’t immediately have something to say to shame the elder who assaulted me that morning in church. I didn’t swear at him, but it wasn’t because I was in a peaceful and quiet place of worship. I didn’t hit or shove my attacker when he lunged at me. But it wasn’t because in that moment I loved him or trusted him. 

Fear. Confusion. Shock….shame. 

Well, there you are. My credentials. I find it disturbing that I feel like in order to have a voice in this matter, I have to have experienced a certain level of offense. But every story matters. The applicability of this movement is not limited to those who have been affected by the plundering of the female gender and the sexual objectification of women. We all make mistakes, and we are all responsible for those mistakes. We all witness it; we all live with offenders. 

We still live in a culture where reputation precedes the truth. Where the public outweighs the private, and dirty, cheating, abusive men can live their lives in the limelight of an image they have built around themselves. Where daughters and employees, subordinates and assistants must live as sheep to be slaughtered by the fraudulent chivalry of masochistic men. 

I realize the danger of generalizing, of categorizing people into harmful stereotypes. I would like to acknowledge the system and the downsides of the medium I am using to communicate my point.  The rhetoric of this cycle is not lost to me. But this very same rhetoric is what prevented myself, as I am sure many other women, from speaking the truth. I didn’t come forward with my experience because I didn’t think people would believe me. You were harassed? By whom? Model citizen, outstanding father, principled deacon, patient man, respected elder. My offenders' pacifying facade caused me to question my own sanity.

And just like that, all too soon after a change began, excuses are being made and exceptions are insisted upon. A yellow flag has been thrown! There is a review of the play! Not all men are like that. Chivalry is a good thing. What was she wearing? Feminism has gone too far. 

But I say it cannot go far enough in the society we live in. 

This is only the beginning of a long war. The battlefield? The workforce, the home, the church. The cost? Legal bills, relationship wounds, public attention, victimization, time, courage, etc. The end? Equality, safety, and enriching environments--sanctuaries--for every person, regardless of race, gender, and religion. 

This movement shouldn’t stop in the workforce, it is not limited to the home, and it is certainly applicable to the most devout and upstanding church. While this is not just one for the history books, I will teach my children about the legacy of the women who sought empowerment. I will recount to them the camaraderie, empathy, and pride I felt when I listened to the women of Hollywood tell their stories.

So why do I sit here, typing out my opinion about something that began over a year ago, after so many brave women have come forward to tell their stories? Are not their voices enough? Isn’t one round of #metoo on social media enough to make a point? For some, maybe. 

But I’m not satisfied with that. I don’t want my children to read about the year 2017 in their history books as a year that the perspective for women in the workforce, women in Hollywood, and women in the home changed. Because it doesn’t happen in a year. It takes decades, and it is worth a lifetime of social justice action. 

I vow to educate my children and raise them to stand together with pride and dignity, so that they, along with the women of this age, will be an unbreakable force that demands, fights for, and protects the self-preservation of every female. 

When the #metoo posts were trending on my social media accounts, I was not ready to come forward with my story. But I propose that this is not simply a trend. It’s not a viral social media tactic brilliantly grouped and categorized by hashtags. It’s not a color choice for an academy awards presentation. A movement? Perhaps that is what it begins with. Am I too late to join? I think not. 

#metoo. 

#untilamovementbecomesareality

  

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Automotive Care 101- What to do when your car get’s a door ding!

Superior Auto Institute

 This holiday season I went to the malls to get some gifts for the family and girlfriend, and
the parking spots were so tight, and something told me I was gonna get bumped, and sure enough when I came back out to my truck I had a huge dent in my passenger side door.
I was so bummed because I just got this truck after 2 years working overtime.
A buddy of mine had just completed Superior Auto Institute paintless dent repair training, so I called him up. He reassured me to relax and not to worry- he would swing by and massage out without any trace left.
So the next day my buddy who is a PDR tech came to the house and removed the dent and he was right- I couldn’t see any remnant whatsoever! It was really cool watching him massage it out. He used a special LED light and some heat thing, and then a large metal rod that he gently massage the dent out piece by piece until it was totally gone.
He charged me $75, and I was floored because I used to work as an auto body estimator and those types of repairs at the bodyshop are usually over $1000 and take weeks.
I wanted to hug and kiss him when he was done but that would have been awkward, so I settled in for a handshake and gave him a 20 dollar bill as a tip and was on my way.
The lesson here is if you have a nice car or a leased vehicle and get slammed in the mall parking lots, don’t lose your hair. Call a PDR Specialist and have them massage your dents out and make your car new again too! 






 This holiday season I went to the malls to get some gifts for the family and girlfriend, and
the parking spots were so tight, and something told me I was gonna get bumped, and sure enough when I came back out to my truck I had a huge dent in my passenger side door.
I was so bummed because I just got this truck after 2 years working overtime.
A buddy of mine had just completed Superior Auto Institute paintless dent repair training, so I called him up. He reassured me to relax and not to worry- he would swing by and massage out without any trace left.
So the next day my buddy who is a PDR tech came to the house and removed the dent and he was right- I couldn’t see any remnant whatsoever! It was really cool watching him massage it out. He used a special LED light and some heat thing, and then a large metal rod that he gently massage the dent out piece by piece until it was totally gone.
He charged me $75, and I was floored because I used to work as an auto body estimator and those types of repairs at the bodyshop are usually over $1000 and take weeks.
I wanted to hug and kiss him when he was done but that would have been awkward, so I settled in for a handshake and gave him a 20 dollar bill as a tip and was on my way.
The lesson here is if you have a nice car or a leased vehicle and get slammed in the mall parking lots, don’t lose your hair. Call a PDR Specialist and have them massage your dents out and make your car new again too! 






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