Confessions of a First Time Pregnant Woman





Confessions of a First Time Pregnant (and Big-Boned) Girl:

When you’re pregnant, everyone tells you about their experience with pregnancy.  Some people hardly change  their daily routine, while others  change their entire world. Some women barely gain any weight, while others gain way too much. When I found out I was pregnant, it was a shocker! I was 28, in the middle of college. When I first found out, I lived in a one bedroom apartment and drove a beat up 97 Hyundai Elantra. How was I going to handle this? Will my relationship with Ric survive this? We had been together, but we weren’t even thinking about living together yet.

Needless to say, for the first few months that followed, I was utterly depressed. So much so, that I neglected myself and my body in a way that I didn’t even know existed. I was constantly overeating. By the end of my pregnancy, I had gained 70 lbs. The reason for this post is certainly  not to shame anyone, but it’s  meant to bring awareness to a part of pregnancy that so few people talk about. If you find yourself in  this situation, remember that you are not alone and you will get through it.

The first thing I should’ve done was look at my family history. I come from a line of big-boned women. When the women in my family get pregnant, they really get big. Odds are, I would get big too, and I did.

Confession #1: Eating and Exercising

My life in a nutshell.

My life in a nutshell.

My average weight has always been between 145-165 lbs. Up until I became pregnant, I was pretty ok with this. I was no model, but I enjoyed having curves; I relished in the fact that I could eat ALMOST anything I wanted when I wanted it as long as I walked it off later. Since I loved the outdoors and had an active dog, it was easy to indulge in a few hours of hiking, walking, and climbing a few days a week.  When I found out I was expecting it did not dawn on me that I will not have the energy to do these things anymore. Instead, I continued my gluttonous ways.

Most people tried to make you feel better about eating and gaining weight during these 10 months. It’s so easy for everyone to say that it’s ok to eat whatever you want…after all, you ARE pregnant, you’re eating for two. And, I won’t lie, you do feel so much better after you’ve eaten your second hot fudge sundae from Handel’s, but it’s important to remember that there will be a very dear price to pay. Once you’re pregnant, you’re not supposed to lose weight. So whatever pounds you pack on, stay there until the end. If you must binge eat, you better enjoy whatever it is to the fullest extent because I promise you, you will look at the after effects for many, many months to come.

In the mean time, here are a few uncomfortable truths:

  • Women who are pregnant and can still find time and energy to exercise will unintentionally make you feel bad about yourself. You will secretly hate yourself  more than you ever have before. But, you know what, that’s ok. While their exercising, go get yourself another hot fudge sundae…that will make you feel better…for today.
  • For the first 5 months of my pregnancy I watched my motivation walk right out the door. I would still walk my dog but the trips were always cut short…shorter and shorter each time. I then found myself making the excuse that it’s too cold, it’s too dark, it’s too much…movement? The baby was clearly telling me that she was tired. Sadie would have to wait until tomorrow to go to the park. I then got so lazy that I would just put my dog in the front yard and throw the frisbee to her. The poor girl would then bring it back to me in anticipation of our old, fun game of “run around the yard”, just to find out that I wouldn’t budge. She, too, lost interest and began finding it more fun to chase the squirrels.


Confession #2: The Social Life

As with any life-altering event, you can’t help but worry that all of those people that filled your life with joy and excitement might not stick around during those 10 months of mood swings and fragility. Although it’s a rite-of-passage to handle most of this time alone with your significant other, it still stings a little to feel left out from the fun circle you used to be a part of. The worst of which is entirely your fault, not theirs. It was just so hard to find the energy! Why is it impossible to have the same social life pre-pregnancy versus during? Well…

  • Nothing will go according to plan. You will plan to still have a social life…until you get home from work and realize that every ounce of you just wants to fall over and nap. That’s ok though, because you will just nap for a little while and then you can go visit your friends. Oh…oops, accidently sleeping four hours longer than expected can ruin your whole day. It’s totally fine though, your friends love you enough to understand and you can always go visit tomorrow.
  • It’s no big deal to go to your friend’s going away or graduation party pregnant. So what if everyone else is enjoying their delicious alcoholic beverages, smoking their luxurious cigarettes that you had to give up or dancing their asses off on the dance floor? You can still enjoy good company from the comfort of your table, where you can prop up your swollen feet, eat a second plate of food, and reminisce about how fun it was when you were able to do those things. And I’m not going to lie, at the point of said reminiscing, you will start to panic because honestly, your life is about to change FOREVER. All that fun that you used to have will be gone and replaced with all of the “joys” of parenting. It’s ok if at this time you wonder “How in the hell am I going to get through this?”
  • Your loyal friends will understand and do the best they can to keep you up to speed on the important moments of their life. Just a small piece of advice to anyone who is a friend to a pregnant woman—please share whatever details of your life you want. It’s almost like a soap opera that we get to enjoy from a distance. We might not be able to go to that concert with you, but it’s really fun hearing about the details…believe it or not, that is not sarcasm, it’s the truth.


Confession #3: Confidence, Identity, and Maternity Wear



You will never appreciate your old body as much as you will after your first pregnancy. I was never one of those girls to wear sundresses, skirts, or even shorts for that matter, but being pregnant has changed my perspective.

  • On your way to Handel’s Ice Cream, I mean…the fresh produce market, (yea that’s it) you realize that your clothes are starting to feel really tight. After you eat (those fresh fruits and vegetables of course), you head to the store, only to find that nothing in the store fits you! Nothing will make you more depressed than looking at your large, stretched out body in a full-length mirror while you try on adorable clothes that in no way fit your enlarged legs or gigantic baby bump.
  • When you leave two or three stores in defeat, it’s incredible just how guilt free you feel while stopping at McDonald’s to get that large fry and Frappuccino. After all, it’s too late anyway. You might as well consider wearing a moo-moo.
  • Expecting a baby can be so beautiful when it comes to family. If you’re as lucky as me and my significant other are, then your family will be over the moon with excitement. Pictures will be snapped at every visit, perky conversation about names and baby themes will engulf the room, and everyone will rub your belly like they expect a genie to pop out. It’s all so beautiful until you see yourself plastered all over Facebook and realize that you’re huge! Most times, I had to do a double take to make sure that it was really me. It is at this moment that you realize how much you love your significant other. If you’re with a great guy, he will have managed to make you feel beautiful and sexy even though you have CLEARLY changed. This is both a blessing and a curse as you will now go throughout the rest of the pregnancy knowing that he is just trying to make you feel good. But honestly, sometimes that’s all you need.



Confession #4: The Body

How I loathe you heartburn!

How I loathe you heartburn!


It’s ok to cry when you look in the mirror. I know that sounds so dramatic, but there are only so many times that you can hear the phrase “Oh honey, you’re pregnant,” before you go bat shit crazy.

It started with a few small stretch marks that turned into a lot of stretch marks. At least they were only on my legs…and my belly…and my arms…and my chest…

Next cane the the cellulite, jiggling its way to every curve I once loved.

To top it off, the constant nauseau, gas, and bloating ruines any chance of even wanting to wear make-up or fix my hair.

Besides all of that, there were some serious consequences to gaining so much weight so fast:

  • Gaining so much weight can really put a lot of pressure on your joints. Bending down was excruciating.
  • My feet had been so swollen that when you presses on my “cankle”, the indent stayed there. The doctor checked for serious problems and I was fine, but I was clearly retaining a LOT of water.
  • There is such a thing as Pregnancy Induced Carpal Tunnel—it feels like both of your wrists have been shattered.
  • There were days where I felt so weak that I literally had to have Ric roll me out of bed.


Confession #5: The Relationship  


You will never know the extent of a man’s love until he has had to deal with his pregnant significant other. After working all day, they literally come home to a second full-time job in which there is no way to train for the months to come. If you have a good man, he will recognize that this is tough on you and he will do what he can to walk through this process with you.

  • When I first met my love, I did all that I could to wear sexy, fitting clothes. Now, I wear nightgowns, yoga pants and hoodies, yet he never failed to tell me that I was the most beautiful woman on the planet. Hey, I knew it was bullshit, but knowing what to say at the right time is half the battle.
  • I’ll never forget the day I cried in the department store because I couldn’t find a bra that fit. My ribs were sore, my clothes were too small and I felt so insecure. Ric made me pick out several maternity outfits to try on. When I came out of the dressing room, he was speaking with an older woman who was an employee there…they were talking about maternity bras. My heart melted.
  • Many people will say that pregnancy will make or break a relationship, and I can see why that might be true. I’m thankful that we were strong enough and loved each other enough to get through the rough spots and enjoy the perks. There is nothing sexier than a man who can physically, emotionally, and financially take care of his family.



In the end, nothing else will matter once you hold your baby in your arms for the first time. All of the worrying, stress, and pains of the human body fade away when you see their tiny little fingers and toes wiggle. I knew that my nights of careless fun and wreckless abandon were behind me and at first I was scared. But I think that God had a reason for making pregnancy take 40 weeks: It gives the parents enough time to adjust to the life-changing situation that is about to occur. I might not be able to do all the things I used to do, but I have a new purpose, one full of love, life, and happiness. Not only do I have this amazing little being to care for, but I also found out so much about my relationship. It truly is a blessing to know that I have a loving partner, who is also an dedicated father, standing by my side. I know that the friends that have stuck by me will be the ones who attend my daughter’s future birthday parties, they will be a huge part of my wedding day, they will always be there and I will forever be grateful.

Pregnancy is the ultimate test: It’s a test of partnership, patience, confidence, friendship, and relationship. If I can survive those 10 months before birth, the rest will turn out alright. Everyone will have their own opinions and ways of handling it, but it’s up to me to make the best of it, but now it’s time to leave the multiple hot fudge sundaes behind.



Until next time

                     – Rhonda Farabee 

The Great Tarot Reading of 2011

Gotta love the Tarot!

Gotta love the Tarot!



The Great Tarot Reading of 2011

I remember this moment, back in October of 2011, that has really made me reflect on everything that is going on in my life as of today. To many who know me, they are aware that I have never really been a religious girl, but I am spiritual. It’s hard to wrap up my beliefs into a small paragraph about what “spiritual” means to me, so instead I will describe it the best I can in just four sentences:

  1. I believe in God—just because I don’t believe in God the same way most people do, does not mean I am a non-believer.
  2. I believe in nature and the power of energy.
  3. I believe that the Bible serves a beautiful purpose by telling stories of morality, but I do NOT believe it is meant as a rule book to live by. I think that if you are a good person, who helps others and does what’s best in life and you do it the best you can, then you are a good person.
  4. No one will ever be able to convince me that God doesn’t love me because I don’t follow YOUR rules…accept it and move on.

If you have questions, comments or concerns about these statements, you should probably click out of this post and chuck it up as a loss. This is not the type of reading for you. If your open minded enough to continue, then kudos to you and thanks for at least giving it a shot.

Regardless, I digress.

October of 2011 was a rough month and year for me. Everything that I had known to be stable and worthwhile was snatched from my life in a matter of days. The one relationship I thought I could count on was the very relationship that single-handedly ruined me. The house I lived in was gone and it was turned into a lonely one bedroom apartment. My heart was heavy; my mind was weak; my pockets were drained, and even my happy-go-lucky dog seemed depressed and miserable. It all happened during midterms which added extra stress and the worst part landed on my birthday. The moving out; the fighting; the realization that love had come and gone was just the tip of the iceberg, there was so much more depression that would soon follow.

My first night in my new apartment, I barely had more than a bed with one pillow and blanket. The rest would have to wait a few days. I curled up on my bed and invited my dog to lay with me there for the first time. She excitedly circled around the top of the bed and as I closed my eyes I heard a terrible sound—the noise of urine splashing on my bed! I had nothing to clean it up with except a bath towel. That night, I slept on the floor with my jacket as a cover, and imagined that tomorrow, life would be better.

Fast forwarding a few weeks, I had come across an old tarot deck that I stashed away years ago. In an afternoon, drunken-stooper, I decided to give myself a reading…what was the worst that could happen? I drudged up some of my old reference books and watched the cards tell me the story of what my future might hold. Half-heartedly, I listened to the sound of the silence around me, inhaled the burning incense and dived into my own little world.

I was told that a great death would affect my family, but with that death, new life would soon follow. Sometimes the Death card in tarot can represent the death of “something”, not necessarily a person, so I shrugged it off. You need to see all of the cards together at the end to really understand. I was told that I would receive rewards for my hard work, but only if I was careful—it was possible that I would allow the sadness and depression to stop me from moving forward. I would get a new job, a new life, a new love. I was told about fertility and romance, about my physical being and nipping a poisonous state of mind in the bud before it got out of control. I was also warned that if I didn’t make better choices, that my world would be set ablaze. Not literally of course, but too much drinking, too much depression, too much sadness could ruin everything that I have built.

At the end of the reading I felt neglected, ripped-off. All of those cards seemed superficial; they seemed like something that any beginner tarot reader could find out. I logged them in my journal, put the cards away and continued drinking my 40 oz. of Budlight (yes, I said 40 oz., hey, what can I say, it was dark times).

So here I sit, two and a half years later, moving into my new apartment, with the love of my life—the father of my unborn child (that’s right, I’m 8 months pregnant), going through some of my things. I came across the old tarot journal I used to keep. Almost two years prior, my grandmother, who was the beloved matriarch of our whole family, passed away. It truly was the cruelest of times. I later met the man of my dreams, eventually found out we were pregnant, moved in together and voila…here we are! Although I still have 2 semesters left before graduating college, I plan on finishing. With the support of Ric and my family, I know I can do it.

What really shocked me was how accurate that reading was. It turns out that an important death did affect my family and the creation of a new life soon followed. I received rewards for my hard work: I paid off all of my debt and now have excellent credit, I ended up working for a respectable marketing firm, and I even got an old misdemeanor expunged from my record (that’s a story for another day).  I almost allowed the sadness and depression to cripple me, but instead I went to see a counselor who not only helped me mentally, but she also helped me realize that I was falling down the slippery slope of alcoholism. I did get a new job, and a new love, and a new life (for both me and baby).

As I sit back and feel the movement of my sweet, precious baby girl, I can’t help but feel amazed at how accurate that reading turned out to be. Sure, it’s possible that it was coincidence, and of course it COULD just be that I saw what I wanted to see out of it, but does that really change the meaning behind it? If I hadn’t done that memorable reading of 2011, who knows what might have happened. Maybe I wouldn’t have thought twice about my decisions, maybe I wouldn’t have acknowledged that I was creating an addiction that easily could have spun out of control. Maybe, I wouldn’t have walked down the path I did to end up here today.

Many of the religious folks will say that reading was either an act of God or an act of evil. But, I truly believe that it was God’s way of watching over me. I believe that the nature of my being was much more accepting of that reading than a church preaching or a prayer. In many ways that reading altered my course in life. I hope that one day I can pass on what I’ve learned to my daughter, but if not, that’s ok. God will reach her in the way that she knows best. It’s an interesting thing we have going for us in this life…sometimes we understand it, sometimes we don’t, but in the end we all live one, and I believe that we are in control of our paths, but occasionally we all need a little help along the way.

First Time Parenting…I’m Never Going to Sleep Again


Being a first time expectant mother, I think that I have worried about everything under the sun. Sometimes, I lie awake at night wondering if I have the medical expertise to be a nurse to an infant, although I have never taken a medical class in my life. Will I be able to effectively address a boo-boo considering that two years ago I accidently cut my own hand with a knife and needed my mommy to bandage it up for me? How am I going to comfort her when she is getting a shot when I used to be terrified of them as a child?

When I’m not stressing out about finding the perfect detergent that won’t irritate her fragile skin, or finding the best bottle so she won’t have to deal with uncomfortable gas issues, I’m constantly dwelling on her safety. How do I tell her not to climb rocky hills or trees when I loved those things so much when I was a child? Those types of childhood adventures have truly paved the way to the woman I am today.  When I was a kid, I use to go outside to play and by doing so, I found a life-long love of nature that I want to share with my daughter. But how do I do that when such dark, ugly stories of kidnapped children and school shootings seem to plague this world? I wonder how I am supposed to shape and mold this beautiful little human to be resilient yet hopeful.  I want to keep her so safe that nothing can ever harm her, but I also know that sheltering her will hurt her more than help her. How do I teach her to be strong and independent, but still make sure she knows that her father and I will know what’s best?

I think about how I’m going to have the “the talk” with her about the birds and the bees when she is a teenager. How do I make her understand that respecting herself will get her so much further in life than allowing others to take advantage of her because she wants attention? How do I teach her to be kind to others even when others are not so kind to her? How do I tell her that there is a difference between unconditional love and infatuation? I need her to know that her family will always be there for her, even when the boy she likes in school breaks her heart. I want her to know that people’s feelings are important and not something to play with, but I also want her to know that sometimes people will hurt her feelings and it is ok to feel sad about it as long as she remains strong afterwards. There are so many lessons that I will need to teach her, some of them I still haven’t learned myself. These are the things that keep me up at night.

But, at the end of the evening, when my eyes begin to close, a moment of peace overwhelms me. I can’t use any of these worries to foreshadow my parenting. Every mother and father wonder about how they will do when it comes to raising a child. Some succeed and some don’t, some do their best and get the worst and some do their worst and still end up with the best. All I can say it that I will give it my all. At the end of the day, as long as she has two parents who love her so much that they would give their life for her; they would sacrifice themselves for her; they will always protect her, then everything will turn out alright. Her father and I will be lucky, because in many ways we will be raising a child, but in so many more ways, she will be raising us.

Rhonda M. Farabee

Until Next Time!

The Unveiling of a Painted Soul

Water Red Heart

Ever since New Year’s Eve, the entire world around me changed. My family and I had lost one of the most influential people of our lifetime. My grandmother was incredibly strong and damn, was she feisty. I’m pretty sure that she wasn’t afraid of anything. Even if she was, you would never be able to detect it. Even during her last few days with us, when her world was surrounded by concerned loved ones and medical personnel, she was still doing her best to keep us calm.

As crazy as it all was, I’m glad to know that my grandmother is in a better place, and not a day goes by where I don’t feel her spirit in some way. This is why I felt the need for a personal reflection on these past six months. If you have ever lost someone you love, then odds are you’ll understand. A few things I’ve learned from my grandmother:

If they don’t like it, then they don’t have to look: When I was a kid, I had my hair cut really short. One of my aunts was a “practicing beautician” and decided that I should be one of her victims. As I walked around school with my boyish haircut, I would cry because of all the mean comments that the other kids would make. My mother did the best she could to help me through this time, but it was my grandmother’s wisdom that stuck with me. She always reminded me that I don’t have to please other people. In the end, it was how I felt about myself that mattered. This advice has stuck with me to this very day.

You need to find a good man: When my last relationship burned down to the very essence of nothingness, my grandma reminded me that there was still someone out there that would be loyal and loving. Even though I argued that no such person would ever exist, she promised me that he was out there. It wasn’t until two weeks ago, that I looked up at the sky and whispered “Thanks Mom (grandma), it turns out you were right, but then again, you always are.” Through a crazy leap of faith, I found my Prince Charming. He fills my world with so much happiness that I forget what pain feels like. I never thought that would be possible, and I thank God, the spirits and my grandmother every day.

If it happens, it happens, but it always happens for a reason: These words seem so simple, yet they are so profound. You can’t stop certain situations from happening. You can’t stop people from making certain decisions, and you can’t stop acts of fate or destiny. A few months ago, I had a rough patch. My paycheck kept bouncing, my car broke down, people that I grew up with kept unexpectedly dying, and I felt like I was entirely alone. I couldn’t see any light at the end of the tunnel. But, just like everyone else who feels lost and alone, I pushed through. I had to keep living because if I didn’t I would be wasting my life. And although the sadness can cloud our optimism for the future, it’s imperative that we hang on because in the end, it all happens for a reason. If I wasn’t in constant peril about my bounced checks, I never would have become motivated enough to find a new job. If I hadn’t decided to admit to my mistakes and apologize to those I’ve wronged, I never would have found Charming. If I hadn’t lost so many people that I loved and cared for, I never would have been reminded to show love to those who are still here today. We can never predict our future, but we can choose to believe in it.

***This is for my grandma! She inspired me to do better, to be better and she often reminded me that sometimes the best advice was the kind that no one ever listens to. Love you Mom (grandma)! Thank you for watching over all of us!

Yours truly,

Rhonda M. Farabee

Designated Resonance

Constantly fighting

To extinguish this fire igniting.

My anger is restraining

All of these thoughts pertaining,

To this.

Take a left or make a right?

 Stay in the dark or head for the light?

The channel is turning

The flame is burning.

For this.

Circles follow me everywhere I go.

In my mind, in my head, in everything I know.

Confusion has struck

I ran out of luck.

In this.

                                                           – Rhonda Farabee

A Bit of Dark Poetry


Wasting the hour like an ash in the wind.
Blowing through life without a purpose to live.
Some days are crooked and other days are curved.
Some weeks are focused, others are blurred.
Walking on life while the graves waste away.
Retired, undesired boxes of decay.
The hopeless and restless squeeze between the boards
While darkness and mystery pour in by the hoards.
All I can say is “continue to breathe”
Because without darkness, light can’t be retrieved.
Just hang on tight and I’ll survive for us both
With enough love you have no choice but to float.
Things can only go up when your so far down
Even if your panicking six feet underground.
I can hear you digging. I can hear you scream.
But the only place I can save you is within my dream.
Only you can reach the light.
You say a fighter,
I say a knight.
Just remember in most stories
Everything turns out alright.

    – Rhonda Farabee

A Bit of Distasteful Poetry

some people just need

To the Ex Who Lost His Balls Along the Way
By: Rhonda Farabee

     Trust is always an issue. Once again I grab a tissue and wipe the stains of the pain which remind me that I miss you. I cry so hard that my cheeks are scarred, but I always have a friend in Jack Daniels. My heart can’t handle this melting candle that’s always fighting reigniting; always burning out and then relighting. Burning my flesh with every caress of this hateful flame.

Lies cause pain that’s self-inflicted. You kicked me out because your new bitch got evicted. And now you feel conflicted since your girl wasn’t exactly who you predicted.I had four years invested, four years that I protested my love for you. With your disrespect and what now is regret you left me blind from the hindsight of lies to disguise who you really are. Another drunk in a bar with a beer bottle scar. I trace it back to the fact that you lost your balls along the way.

Only a player can play the game. Displacing the blame to hide your shame for the reputation that follows your name. I should have known about your lack of a backbone. Coming home with empty eyes. I realize the true meaning of loves demise. I kept trying to revive it, but it faded too fast. Now it’s just a memory of my past and a reminder that true love never lasts.

The Strange Misfortunes of Love

The Proverbial Pie of Love

By: Rhonda Farabee

love and amnesia

Once, my life consisted of being a half to a whole, just a piece of the proverbial pie of love. I thought that if I could just hold on to that love, that maybe, just maybe, I would find what I needed to be whole on my own. However, as most of us have experienced, love is a lot more complicated than pie.

I’ve always been a different kind of girl.

I was raised like the great saying, “it takes a village to raise a child.” For many years I lived with my mother, my grandmother, at least two aunts (occasionally three), and a cousin (sometimes up to four of them). None were married and it was a rarity to hear them talk about relationship love. But, I had always dreamed about it. I thought that someday I will find love and that happiness would overflow into the hearts and soul of my family and perhaps open their hearts to the idea of it as well.

As I grew older, unfortunately I saw first hand why the walls were placed around my family and the idea of finding my soulmate slowly began to fade away and eventually it died. As I rolled through my teenage years, I was determined to find out who I really was. I wanted my own identity completely free of a male dependency. Most girls were wearing mini skirts and low cuts tees, I was wearing pants decorated in chains and band shirts. Most girls were wearing make-up and curling their hair, I was a fan of ponytails and never woke up early enough to “put on my face”. Even as a grown adult, make-up is barely a friend of mine. Most girls looked forward to school dances, I enjoyed dancing in the park with headphones that might as well have been sewn into my ears. Overall, I was hardly a girly girl.

Now at 26, I look back at my last relationship and how much it hurt to see it fail as miserably and painfully as it did. It was the lesson that my family tried to teach me from the very first time I felt butterflies in my stomach because of a boy at school. They wanted to protect me from the hurt that they knew followed from caring about someone so much. But, like all good lessons, I had to learn it on my own. The same thought always ran through my mind; I wasn’t good enough. I didn’t look pretty enough or feel cool enough. I lacked a bubbly personality and I always spoke my mind. I couldn’t help but think that these were the reasons why love has never worked for me or my family. No one ever really loved us for who we truly were, people always wanted us to change.

This time something is different within my soul. I realized that I will never fully be whole because the people you allow into your heart are the ones that help fulfill the proverbial pie. Each slice is dedicated to a hard taught lesson, and baked with the real love in life. My prince charming may not have been MY prince after all, but my dreams for love have resurfaced. The drive has ignited a passion in me that I thought I lost long ago. It is up to me to feel worthy of being fully loved. One day someone will be strong enough to love me at my worst, not just at my best. One day a man will find it sexy that I prefer hard work over handouts. The sway of the leaves on a sweet summer day is more appealing to me than a manicure or an hour of covering up my natural look. Relationships take work, not love. Truly loving someone should come without condition, it should be effortless and honest.

Someday, love will not be more complicated than pie.