life of haleigh

I always mistook discomfort for bad news. Anything even sort of remotely maybe wrong sent up all the red flags, warning signs, alarm bells. I never bothered to figure out why. So, even though I was learning to be with myself, I wasn’t getting to really know who I was. I wasn’t putting two and two together. Not searching for cause of my effects. I was sitting there with a stomach ache thinking, “this sucks” instead of thinking, “did I eat something that caused this?” So I chose to start noticing. To hear my words from other peoples ears and ask myself if I was a person I would be friends with. To listen to my intuition and see people for who they really are. To change my perspective from “why me?” to “why did this happen?” and not to blame myself but just to understand the course of events that led me here. You know that feeling when you’re in the water and you lay on your back with your ears underneath but your face is out? In that moment where you just feel really sort of light and un...

My friends tell me that my party trick is knowing every lyric to every song I've ever heard.  It's among my favourite party tricks (others, not so much). But for some reason, I just LOVE music. A good backstory, a good hook, everything about everything. I wish everyone could feel music the way that I do. So when someone shows me a song, its a very special thing for me. I always think about all things it could mean for them. If they're trying to tell me something that way, or if they just like the vibes. I learn all the words so we can sing it together. So I can understand it and understand them, too. And for the rest of eternity I will think of them when it comes on. I'll think about that one snapchat video where we couldn't even hear the concert in the background over the sound of us screaming along to Jason Aldean in that dusty field. Or when Water Under the Bridge by Adele came out and we couldn't help but laugh about what it meant to love someone. I'll r...

I had one guitar lesson ever in my life. He was a strange man with long hair and smelled like cigarettes and honestly, I was always better at piano so, needless to say, uninterested.   He said one thing I remember though: “don’t look at your fingers when you’re playing a chord, focus on how it feels. Close your eyes if you have to.”   He was trying to explain that feeling the chords out helps to make everything sound smoother, and it’s easier for your hand to memorize where to go.   I can’t look at the guitar when I play anymore. And so many other things. So many things I was doing out of desperate need for order, complete exaction. Routines and plans and everything else. Doing things because I was used to doing them, looking at the strings and knowing this how they’re supposed to be played.   But how does it feel? Is this even a good song?   Wondering how many times I’ve turned down this street and not known it’s name. How many times I had l...

Learning to love yourself is something you will do over and over again through every phase of your life. It’s a lifelong promise. You have to forgive every mistake, accept every flaw. Love yourself through rejection and failure and scary nights alone and bad news and bad people. You have to push yourself to and past your limits. Be brave and be exhausted. You will face every struggle with you and yourself only. You will only ever walk in your own shoes, on your own path. Some days you won’t have love for yourself. Some days you will look at the poster on your wall of that singer you adore, and look down at yourself and wonder why your waist isn’t as skinny and why your hair isn’t as soft. Some days you’ll see other people be successful and wonder why you aren’t there. And why, at just twenty-one, you haven’t done everything with your life yet. Some days, you will fight with the guilt of being lazy, or the awkwardness of that interaction with your friend. You will stare at a photo of yo...

Too mild, too careless, too careful, too caring, too honest, too drunk, too cold, too sensitive, too goofy, too serious, too clingy, too independent, too shy, too extravagant, too lazy, too high maintenance, too organized, too fearful, too reckless, too confrontational, too difficult, too bossy, too frugal, too indecisive, too smart, too dumb, too social, too sad, too much attitude, too fake, too chunky, too skinny, too many Instagram posts, too filtered, too outspoken, too religious, too healthy, too much. Just too much. For me? Too opinionated, too loud, too big of plans for my future, asks too many questions, says the same thing too many times.  You will always be too something for someone. Even the people I love most in my life are too much of something. One time, me and this girl really weren't getting along and I called my other friends for backup; you know, seventh grade things, and they all told me, "Haleigh, you're being too dramatic," and that it was too muc...

Almost got the job, almost had feelings, almost lived in a city, almost graduated, almost there. It’s just the worst thing in the world.  That constant anticipation leading up to it, and the often underwhelming feeling that comes after.  Nothing hurts more than an almost.  Maybe it’s because I’m an all or nothing type of person. Black or white. I’ve never met in the middle ground. And I always wonder why it didn’t work out.  Some of the best advice I ever heard was:  If it’s not a hell yes, it’s a hell no.  Apply that to any scenario in your life and you have your answer. If they don’t want you like a hell yes, then it’s a hell no. If it’s not a hell yes to staying in your job, then it’s a hell no. You get it? There is no maybe, no almost there, no middle.  This is the way I plot decisions in my life. If someone isn’t giving me hell yes, they’re giving me hell no. & vice versa.  I wish everyone could skip the almost. You either want it or you...

The bad news, and the very very good news is that it won't be like this forever.  It turns out I probably won’t live all the lives I thought I would. I might never be the girl who wears eyeliner wandering the streets of New York City in the rain. Or the girl who lives in a little house filled with plants by the beach. I might not ever get to go backstage with the band, or fly on a private jet. I might not have gardens to walk through or a sky rise office to look out from. I don’t know. I might.   But I’m coming to terms with the fact that my life is just my own and there’s no amount of Pinterest pictures or Instagram stories that will make my pieces fit into something else.   It’s weird to let go of that. That when I was 11 I had no idea who I would be at 15. And then I thought I knew. And then I thought I knew again after that. And now I think I know at 21. And the truth is I never will know, not until my very last day, when I look back and realize what it all ...

I'm sure you all knew this was coming. I was raised in a family where giving up is not an option. Those weren’t words at our house. It made me stubborn, but it also made me successful. It’s why I pushed through years of ringette, years of mean high school kids, years of relationships. It’s why I didn’t drop out of school when I was in second year, it’s why I FaceTime with my teachers to bring my grades up. I push because I’m not a giver upper. Maybe to a fault? Sometimes I don’t know when to give up. Arguing a point, never being able to accept defeat, never being able to hear “no” as an option.   In fact, I’m the best at not giving up. I took PE all through high school and only one time in my life did I ever hit the softball (a foul ball at that) and that was all I needed to call it a win.   But where is the line?? Giving up and surrender. What’s the difference?   I still don’t think I know. But I think the first thing I ever gave up on was love. ...