I'm a Helmet Baby Mom!

It was ten weeks ago when we found out our little boy would have to be fitted for a helmet. In the months of physical therapy leading up to that decision, I kept thinking to myself, "His head will round out. He won't need a helmet. He'll be fine." Then the day came that his physical therapist said he should be evaluated. We waited a couple of weeks to first visit with his doctor. We were shocked when his doctor exclaimed something alongs the lines of, "Oh my god! Have you had him fitted for a helmet yet? His head shape is not right. This will not fix itself."

Bailey a week before his helmet fitting (Photo by Monkey & Peas Photography)

Devastated, I looked up photos of babies with helmets and sat in despair. I didn't want my baby wearing one of those. What would other people think? Would they think there was something wrong with him? Would they think that I did something wrong with him? That I somehow did something to him that caused him to wear a giant band around his head? My fears of being looked at like I was a bad mom were quickly flooding in.

Then came time for his appointment. We walked into the office, nervous about the events that were going to unfold. During his free evaluation, we kept being reminded about how imperfect his face was. How is eyes weren't symmetrical, how one ear was much farther back, how his head was protruding in various spots. On the drive home, my husband had to stop for a box of tissues because I couldn't stop crying. I don't think there's anything worse on this planet then hearing someone tell you how wrong your baby is.

His next appointment, I went with a brave face. I realized this had to happen and there was no choice. The appointment, however, nearly destroyed me. I had made my peace (as much as I could at the time!) with him wearing the helmet. However, when being measured for it, they had to take pictures of his head. To do this, they took a breathable netted fabric and pulled it over his head. The trauma of seeing his face like that still sends chills up and down my spine. He of course, wasn't bothered by it at all. He didn't care. He was his usual happy-go-lucky self, smiling away.

The day we arrived for him to be fitted, I sat in the car on the drive, mourning our cuddle times that would be undoubtably affected by his new helmet. I was sad over the pictures I'd have of him with a helmet on his head, not looking at all like himself. I was worried over if he would be bothered by wearing the helmet on his head. I sat there, fingers crossed that he wouldn't need to wear it too long. My husband, who was equally nervous but far more collected then me, tried to reassure me and calm my fears.

At the offices for his helmet fitting

When we arrived, we sat down in the room, waiting for them to bring the helmet in. My husband put Bailey into a toy car in the room and started riding him around. Bailey was so happy and having a wonderful time. After about five minutes, the woman came in with his helmet. She was a very nice lady, not at all like the other, more critical, people we had met on previous visits. As she fitted the helmet onto Bailey, I realized that nothing could ever take away my baby's adorableness and happiness. He was still the exact same baby I've always known and loved. Truthfully, I had built it up to be far worse than it is. He didn't even notice it was there as he climbed over my husband's lap and head dived onto the floor. He let out a cry, as his head hit the ground, almost as if he expected it to hurt. I say this because that was the last time he head dived with his helmet on and cried! The helmet has definitely had a wonderful bonus of protecting him while he learns new skills!

From the moment the helmet was put on his head, I felt relieved. Knowing that my fears were unfounded was a wonderful feeling. He was happy, he was still adorable, and even though I read stories that I wouldn't be able to cuddle him, I could still cuddle him as much as I always have.

A week after Bailey got his helmet!

It's been five and a half weeks since he first got his helmet and he is doing wonderfully. The weeks have zoomed by and he should only be wearing it for another month and a half at the most. Since he got the helmet, I've found that the majority of people actually know exactly what it is! On occasion, I have had to explain it to people, but it feels good to know I'm able to inform more people about what a baby helmet is for.

The first couple of days while Bailey adjusted to the helmet, he sweat like crazy and woke up back and forth throughout the night from some minor discomfort. For any other helmet baby mom's out there, just know that this did not last long! After the first week, he began sleeping through the night and has been sleeping from 8pm-8am most days. Of course, every baby's sleeping pattern is different, but rest assured, the helmet will not affect your baby's chances of sleeping through the night!

Bailey cuddling up to me during playtime

I'm not going to lie, I am looking forward to Bailey having his helmet removed. Not for any of the reasons I feared. However, the helmet sometimes tips into his eyes and I have to readjust constantly and feeding him his bottle can be quite a pain as the helmet is constantly sliding...to the point I've started just removing the helmet for those 10 minutes to make it easier on myself! I look forward to pulling clothes over his head without the extra step of taking the helmet off and putting it back on.

I know first hand how terrifying the process of getting your baby a helmet can be. The fear of judgement... But lets face it, as a new parent, it's easy to worry that people will judge your every move. The fear of thinking someone will tell you that you did something wrong is very real. But rest assured, while plenty of people judge about feeding jarred food vs. homemade food, breast feeding vs. bottle feeding, watching TV with your baby vs. keeping the TV always off, etc, very few people (if any!) are judging over the helmet. It's purpose is to help your baby's head shape correct itself. It may be purely cosmetic, but a irregular head shape can affect various things in their future, all the way down to wearing a pair of sunglasses one day!

If you are reading this because your baby will soon be wearing a helmet, I hope this helped you! Please know that there are other people with the same fears and worries as you. That we all get stressed over the idea of our baby wearing a helmet. However, just as my baby is okay, so will yours. And the good news is, you'll be just fine too.

The Aftermath (I Will No Longer Be a Victim)

I decided to write my last blog (read "The Untold Story of a Choice That Revealed Everything") with the knowledge that it would end all contact for me with those family members. Funny enough, all my blog did was talk about my true experiences and my personal feelings. But I knew. I knew that while they were okay with expressing their own feelings and their own versions constantly, that they wouldn't accept that my version was finally put out there. Interestingly, they then decided to end their relationship with my sister as well, who, while supported my decision to do what I needed to do for myself, wasn't even sure she shared the same sentiments as me, and who I made no mention of in my previous post.

My amazing family.

Maybe they wonder why I released it publicly? I can answer that very simply: every time our families have ever had a private conversation, we've been victimized and bullied. I wasn't going to stand for that anymore.

The best way to help yourself overcome a bully is to get support from others and to not live in the shadows.

That is why I decided to handle the situation the way I handled it. I refuse to be verbally attacked once again. I refuse to hear them voice their opinions while they never listen to me voice mine. I refuse to listen while they insult my family and myself. This was the only way my voice would ever be heard.

With my husband at San Diego
Comic Con for my former job.

I've never taken an opportunity like this one before. When my former boss bullied me and forced me to work 100 hour work weeks, which resulted in the carpal tunnel I now live with every day, I left my job, feeling guilty and apologetic. This boss constantly told me how weak I was, and I believed him. I let him demolish me every day as he tried to tear me away from my family. He would spend his days belittling my work ethic and telling me I was immature for wanting a weekend off, even after working 16 hour days for two weeks straight (all while he refused to pay me overtime). He would also tell me not to speak to my husband about my stresses, and make scathing comments about my other family members behind their back. At the time though, I couldn't stand up. I couldn't say to him, "This is wrong." He tried to break apart my family and constantly criticized how close we were, and yet, I couldn't defend them. And that made me feel terrible. I've lived with the guilt of that for some time. Never standing tall and never saying, "I've had enough." I let him bully me until I was too weak to believe in myself and those I care so deeply about.

Surround yourself with the people who
love you.

When you're mentally bullied, you constantly expose yourself until there's nothing left.

It's a long process that sometimes isn't even obvious to the person being bullied, until it's too late. But the fact is, it's every bit as dangerous as being abused physically. Some days, whether the abuse was from my former boss or my former relatives, I would find it hard to get out of bed. They all made me feel worthless, despite how many other people in my life care about me.

Over the years, I was constantly reminded of how unimportant I was to these people. Every time I heard that my grandparents would take an hour and twenty minute drive to Malibu regularly for a charity, or a four hour drive to Las Vegas, it drove a dagger through my heart. Why was it that anytime my family invited them to visit they would constantly complain about how long the hour and fifteen minute long drive was to visit us? And then if they did visit, they'd only be able to stay a couple of hours around lunchtime before claiming they had to head back before the traffic got bad? Yet, their last visit up this way, when we were given no notice and already had lunch plans (so therefore couldn't see them), they made sure to stay for dinner with a friend, only minutes from our house, and told us such after they returned home. Had we known they could stay in the valley past 3 PM, we would've made sure to see them after our lunch plans were done.

In some ways, I just got used to being treated as a granddaughter they felt obligated to see. However, as a new mother, I realized that I never wanted my son to grow up feeling the same way. The last time my grandparents visited, my grandfather turned to my mom, while standing in front of me, and said, "It was special having grandchildren. But there's nothing special about having a great-grandchild."

Nothing special.

The bond between my son and his
amazing grandparents is what every child
should have. (Pictured: My father and my son)

How on Earth could he possibly say that? My son means absolutely everything to me and to hear my grandfather, who I diluted myself into thinking loved me, say that my child was "nothing special", absolutely killed me.

Already, they had tried to take a piece of my incredibly special relationship with my husband away from me. I will never let them touch my relationship with my son. Never.

For once in my life, I finally decided to say, "Enough." I finally decided that I wouldn't let others affect my emotional stability or the emotional stability of those I care about. I've done it for far too long and I'm done with it now.

Stand up for yourself. Believe in yourself.

Whether it's a boss, family, "friends", or some random acquaintance, don't let them demolish who you are. You are worth so much more than that.

The Untold Story of a Choice That Revealed Everything

It was less than 5 years ago that I was sitting around the kitchen table trying to figure out who to invite to my small wedding. There were people who I knew had to be there. My best friend who lived in Virginia at the time was one of them. I hadn't seen her since 5th grade but we emailed almost weekly (or monthly as our lives got busier) ever since. Some family members like my grandparents were an obvious certainty. Then came the time to cut the list. 

Who did I want to be there? Who did I think would care to be there?

As I sat there, I thought back to the previous 17 years of my life since my family had moved to Colorado. Which family members had I talked to? Which family members had constantly tried to remain in contact with me? The answer? Almost none of them. It suddenly dawned on me that in 17 years, not one of them had even walked in our front door. Yet in the early years after moving, my family would always visit California to visit them. The reverse though...no. That never happened. In large part, that's why my family stopped visiting as I grew up. They felt the effort was never being made on the other end. Happy birthday phone calls and cards never existed nor did just an occasional chat to check in.

At the age of 3, you don't choose who's in your life. They choose you and by the time you're old enough to make your own decisions, it's nearly impossible that you'll think about these people as more than a name.

So when I sat down and contemplated who to invite, I created a category in my mind for relatives closest on the family tree that I wish I had gotten to know. These were the people I'd seen occasionally when my family would visit. This cutoff led me to not invite a family member and his wife that I had only remembered briefly meeting twice. There was nothing malicious about my decision. I honestly didn't see why this person would even care to be at my wedding. They had never contacted me before...so why would it matter now?

Looking back, I sometimes wish I didn't even invite some of the family members from this side of the family that I had, at the time, wished to get to know. There's one I'm still glad I invited. Throughout her preteen and teenage years, she'd message me to chat and constantly talk about wanting to visit. I'm sure she had no idea, but this meant so much to me. In a world where I thought the majority of my relatives didn't care, she was the only one who was constantly trying to reach out. I still wish I'd get a chance to know her, but sadly, it seems unlikely now.

After I sent off the invites, it was only a matter of days until the outrage began. I received the first email from my uncle (probably in my entire lifetime), telling me that I was an inconsiderate person and that I was lying about only inviting relatives I had been in contact with. He then called out the names of two relatives that were invited that he presumed I didn't speak to. Funny enough, these more "distant" relatives in his eyes, had visited multiple times in the recent years and emailed us back and forth. But looking back, maybe I was being a hypocrite. Not for inviting these "distant" relatives, but for inviting my uncle in the first place. After all, how much had I seen him either? A few more times I suppose then the relative that didn't make the cut off, but not by much. 

How much had he ever tried to get to know me when I was a child? Not at all. For some reason at the time though, it somehow seemed important to me to get to know my uncle.

Ironically, through this battle amongst the family, the only person who never spoke out was the uninvited relative. He was going on a cruise during my wedding and I hope he had a blast. I'd much rather that he be somewhere enjoying himself than at the wedding of a stranger. Sending him an invite would have only made it seem like I wanted a gift... And why should I get one from someone I don't know? I shouldn't.

It's five years later and the drama this unraveled still looms in the air. Every year for my anniversary, I try to no end to make it special because my grandparents and my uncles took away a piece of my wedding day that I'll never get back. They made the memory a tainted one. I'm sure some of them may even be smiling knowing that. "She deserves it." "It was her choice." But it wasn't. It was never my choice to be dumped by my family when I moved states at 3 years old. It was never my choice to not hear from any of you. It was never my choice to be ignored because of whatever underlying issues that were within the family.

About half a year after my wedding, I visited my grandparents, who were still angry about my decision. As I tried to explain how I was feeling, my grandmother interrupted me saying that she should never have walked down the aisle at my wedding. In a moment of rage, I responded with profanity that I rarely use and stormed out of the house in tears. It was so special to me to have my grandparents walk down the aisle at my wedding, and to know that it wasn't special to her, was as big of an insult as when my other already deceased grandmother told me at 12 that she wouldn't love me anymore if I married out of the family religion.

Once again, I was being told that this love wasn't unconditional.

Why was it my responsibility to have relationships with family members that never wanted one with me? Why was no one mad at them? Why was I always the villain? These questions pour through my head almost daily as I try to wrap my head around the most obvious answer. That they never truly loved me wholeheartedly.

After about a year passed, I decided to see my grandparents again. When I was 14, I chose to cut my other grandmother out of my life for the pain she caused me. I did not want to do it again. As we began to make amends, or so it seemed, I tried to move on. My husband and I began to do our best to go to family functions, such as my grandmother's birthday party and my grandparents anniversary party.

Then in the Spring of 2014, while on an early anniversary vacation with my husband in Europe, I received an incredibly hurtful email from a cousin of mine telling me that I was "self centered", that my husband was "fake and rude", and that I was "unwelcome into [her] life and the family as a whole." Somehow I was being yelled at for the conversation I had with my grandmother two years before. I was being told how much I hurt our grandmother and that if we all wanted to be a family again, I needed to apologize to everyone. Apologize for responding to a very hurtful remark that I never received an apology for either. The real question though is, when were we a family in the first place?

In my eyes, family is about being supportive and understanding. It's about communication, mutual love and respect. Family is not about ignoring people and attacking them for their own decisions, especially when you've never been a part of their lives in the first place.

The saddest part to me through all of this is that there is still a cousin or two of mine that I wish I could get to know. They've never responded to the drama but at the same time, I know it's a hard place for them to be in. And I respect that fully.

At the end of the day, all I can do is let this experience be in the past. It taught me what family truly means and what I want and who I want in my life, my husband's life, and my son's life.

Surround yourself with the people who always cared about you, effortlessly and unconditionally.

The other people are merely names that will eventually fade away as they distance themselves further and further. Don't let one stranger's opinion affect how you see yourself and don't second guess your gut feelings and your choices. You made them for a reason and the truth is, people will show their true colors over time.

I'm grateful that my son is growing up with already more support and love from here to New Zealand than I ever had. Already, he has grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins who speak to him almost every day, even if it's a Skype call from across the ocean. He couldn't have asked for a better family unit and I will continue to do my best to surround him with those who I know truly care.

Read my follow up story: "The Aftermath (I Will No Longer Be a Victim)"

The Rollercoaster of Confidence

It's hard to believe that it's been two years since we began putting together our plans and searching for the location for our very first restaurant, Aroha. Ever since that moment, we have learned a lot. About customer service, about management, about life in general. To say it's been easy would be a lie. Some days, I close my eyes and imagine what life would be like if we had never chosen this path. But honestly, as tough as it is, I could never wish for anything different than what I have. Somedays, I feel like I could crumble under all of the pressure but in the end I know, these experiences are only making me stronger.

Gwith and I in 2014 after signing the lease for Aroha

It's hard owning something that you care so deeply about, especially when you have the occasional diner who never gives you a chance. When we designed our restaurant, we wanted to create an intimate and romantic environment that would make our customers feel welcome every day. We had a limited amount of space in the building and we did our best to accomplish our goals. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't crushed every time I read an occasional review saying our interior looks like a cheap Denny's. Our interior was incredibly costly from our standpoint and we've tried our hardest to make it beautiful. I guess, for me, the hardest part is knowing that I came up with the design. On slow days, I can't help but blame myself thinking that I should've done something differently. That maybe, even as we're constantly growing, I'm the reason we're not packed every minute.

Aroha Interior at night

I know. It's silly. Especially when realizing that other times, customers walk in and compare our interior to sitting inside a magical jewel box. I guess at the end of the day, you just can't please every one. It's crazy how for every 100 great reviews, even seeing one bad one, can be crushing. When we run an ad on Facebook to try to increase our customer base and one person takes to it to say "I was unimpressed", they don't realize the potential effect that their response could be having on not just our business, but our family and our livelihood. I know. As an adult and a business owner, it should just be understood that this is life. People criticize and judge and it's our job to be strong enough to not let it affect us and our mindset. But why should the feeling of being knocked down just be understood? Can't people be supportive? My whole life I've dealt with people who just try to bring you down. From extended family members, to teachers, to bosses, and I just can't for the life of me understand why people need to destroy others to make themselves feel more important. When did people learn to have such a negative mindset?

Yesterday, I heard a story about a family friend's daughter who is beginning to have the same struggles at my former high school as I did. She was out sick for a few days before finals and was badgered by two teachers for being absent. She's a smart girl with straight A's but she's losing her confidence because these teachers feel the need to bring her down. When I went through these same experiences, I chose to drop out (read my blog, Confessions from a High School Drop-Out). No longer did I feel smart, confident, or capable. I lost all hope in my abilities and it's a struggle I deal with every day. It's nine years later and no matter how many things I accomplish, I still live with this shadow over my head. A shadow that I'm constantly trying to leave behind. But every once in a while when I think it's gone, it looms over me again. Sometimes, I wish I could go back to those days and tell these teachers that what they're doing is wrong. People are so focused on teaching children not to bully, but what about adults? I was never physically beaten up in school but I can't even begin to count the amount of times I've been mentally beaten by various adults in my life. From being told by relatives that I'm a "selfish bitch" and "not welcome in the family" for the decision to not invite someone to my small wedding who by all accounts was a stranger to me (read my blog, The Untold Story of a Choice that Revealed Everything), to being told by my Grandmother when I was 12 years old that if I married out of my religion, she would no longer love me, to being told by a school teacher that I would never amount to anything in life because I had health problems, and to being told by a boss that I wasn't working hard enough even after working 90 to 100 hour weeks.

Our wedding in my childhood backyard

I will never understand why people just can't be supportive. When I think that this is the world my son is going to grow up in, all I can hope is that I can do my best to surround him with people that care for him and teach him what's right and wrong. I want him to know more than anything that he is a strong, confident, and capable person that can accomplish anything. What worries me is knowing that my parents taught me this every day too...but at the end of the day, there were too many other people out there letting me know how much of a failure I was in there eyes.

Our son Bailey and I

So please, to anyone who's reading this blog, don't let this be you. Today (and everyday), remember to tell people, whether it's the bagger at the grocery store, an employee of yours, a family member, a friend, a co-worker, your boss, or just someone you casually strike up a conversation with, that they're doing a wonderful job... And before you criticize someone for not working hard enough or not satisfying your expectations, think about the effect that you're creating on their life and their mental mindset. Maybe there's another way to help them without knocking them down. Maybe all they need is to have a someone, even a stranger, make them smile, because maybe too many have already made them cry.

When I have a customer who tells me how much they love their experience at the restaurant and how welcome they feel, it helps get me through the hardest of days. Each time I feel like giving up, I hear these customers and it rejuvenates me to keep on trying. It's this mindset that helps me, my husband, and our employees continue to strive to provide the best service possible.

Thank you all for reading.

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30990 Russell Ranch Rd Unit C, Westlake Village, CA 91362
© 2015 Aroha Restaurant.

The Skinny Pregnancy

I've gone back and forth on whether to write a blog about this because it's such a sensitive subject for me, but at the end of the day, I'm hoping I can help someone else just like me because I'm sure I'm not the only one.

Let me start by saying that I've never had any eating disorders (just a lot of allergies!) and my body has always had a super fast metabolism that just can't be tamed. Since I've been an adult, I've been a primarily healthy eater and ate fish, fruits, and vegetables regularly, as well as took my daily gummy multi-vitamin. I'm allergic to gluten and dairy and my body has always had issues if I eat too much meat. I'm a light eater with a sensitive stomach and I've always done better with smaller portion sizes throughout the day (or drawn-out multiple course meals) rather than three big meals. It's always been challenging but over the years, I've managed to figure out foods that work for me...and my brilliant chef husband always finds ways to slip me extra calories with loads of olive oil and other hidden ingredients in my dishes.

June 2013 at 85 lbs

I'm 5'0 and never weighed more than 85 lbs in my life, not for lack of trying! Back in August 2013, however, I ended up with food poisoning and a stomach parasite that led to me being unable to stomach food for about five months. During this time, I dropped to 75 lbs and I was scared out of my mind. I woke up nightly panicking about my low weight and what all of the BMI information said online. I felt awful, had dizzy spells regularly, and was worried that my body was failing me.

December 2013, with my hubby and sister while I was ill at 75 lbs

However, after a round with antibiotics in January of 2014, I began to eat normally again. Of course, even so, my body, which took about four years to get from 78 lbs to 85 lbs (thanks to my chef hubby!), wasn't jumping up in weight at all. No matter what I ate, I still remained at 75 lbs. The most unhealthy part of this weight for me wasn't the weight itself in the end, it was the mindset I put myself in. Online articles would say how unhealthy my weight was and people would look at me stunned if I told them. I convinced myself I was unhealthy, despite the fact that I was now eating three healthy meals a day, with snacks in between, and on any day I didn't think about it, I felt fine. I looked thin but I didn't look frail anymore and I wasn't malnourished. I was the same weight I was when I was sick, but my body was now getting the nutrition it needed and felt fine...One of the worst parts of searching online for information was reading that women with such low BMI's can have trouble having children.

My hubby and I, at 75 lbs and healthy again, during Thanksgiving 2014

This year, I learned that BMI and health are all relative and being naturally "underweight" doesn't matter if you're taking care of yourself and getting the nutrition your body needs.

In February, my husband and I found out we were going to being having our very first child! We were instantly over the moon with excitement. Within days, I began looking up online everything I needed to do and what to expect during my pregnancy. Unfortunately, my google searching led me to all the data I longed to avoid reading - the dangers of having a low BMI during pregnancy. The thing that all of these sites leave out is that a seriously low BMI with a body you take care of and is just naturally low is vastly different than a malnourished body. First I read that having a BMI as low as mine meant trouble conceiving because your body is apparently too unhealthy. This was definitely untrue in my case. Then the articles continued with information that scared me for months. Supposedly, my chances of miscarriage were enormous or at the very least, I was destined to have a micro-premie or premie baby.

During my morning sickness, I dropped to 72 lbs and panicked daily about how I was going to gain the necessary weight this pregnancy. After all, my weight was already so "dangerously low" and now I couldn't eat again. After the first trimester passed, I began getting plenty of food cravings and eating. Still, I eat in what I call "Justine size" portions. Other people might think it was a small amount of food for a pregnant lady but I felt pretty stuffed after my meals. Over time, I started to gain weight and as the months passed, I realized all of the problems I read I'd have, weren't actually happening. In fact, as my parents and husband love to say, I was a textbook pregnancy! Every symptom I had fell in line with exactly when it was supposed to happen according to the books! When I finally found a doctor after months of searching, I went into my first appointment at 80 lbs. I was again terrified that I'd go into the doctor's office and be belittled about my weight. To my surprise, she never mentioned a thing. I looked healthy, I felt healthy, and the baby was growing fine.

This weekend, at 38 weeks and 6 days (at my final weight of 92 lbs), I gave birth to a healthy 5 lbs 14 oz baby boy. I didn't gain 40 lbs as the pregnancy websites suggest for "underweight" women but I feel and felt fantastic (other than every normal pregnancy symptom in the book and now postpartum soreness!), my baby grew perfectly well, and I feel like I'm starting this new chapter of my life with an entirely new outlook on myself and my health. What you weigh is all relative and has no true representation of how healthy your body is. How you take care of your body is what matters and don't let anyone tell you different. The key to health isn't the number on the scale, it's having a healthy mindset and taking care of yourself.

Baby Belly at 34.5 weeks, and 90 lbs!

When I first became pregnant, I searched and searched for an article about someone who was super skinny during their pregnancy and had a healthy outcome. All I found were the horror stories. I really hope now that I've written this, that anyone in a similar situation to me can now find a story that makes them feel good about themselves, their body, and their pregnancy. At the end of the day, all those articles taught me was that an unhealthy body can't cope with pregnancy. And that's how I now know...my body is perfectly healthy. :)

The Road to Success Lies in You

Hi everyone! It's been a while. For those of you who don't know, my husband and I are expecting our very first child this October - a baby boy!!! We are beyond excited...this also explains why I've been so absent from the blog these past few months. Pregnancy is a wild ride!

Today, I felt inspired to write a blog after seeing a post on Facebook about encouraging kids to read for the sake of their standardize test scores. Seeing something like this saddened me, angered me, and all around just made me think about the pressures from society my child is going to grow up in. I am grateful that I grew up with parents who didn't believe test scores and school were the be-all end-all, and I am happy that Gwith and I will raise our son exactly the same way.

I don't believe tests and school are the way to success. My belief is that passion, enthusiasm, and drive are what make you a successful person, which is why encouraging our children in their interests at a young age is far more important than anything else. For those of you who have read my past blogs, you know I dropped out of high school at 16 years old (read my story here). This was not an easy decision for me, or for my parents, but it was undoubtedly one of the best decisions made in my life. When I flashback to the day we decided I needed to leave school, I can still picture myself sitting on the floor, shaking in tears from the depression and insecurities school had taught me to feel. I felt helpless, stupid, and like I had no control or ability to make decisions for myself. That was the day it all changed. After crying in my mom's arms, she asked me, "Do you want to drop out of school?" Tearfully, I told her yes. While it was a struggle for my parents, they didn't show that to me. Without any hesitation, my mom saw the pain I was in and agreed with my decision. I originally planned to study online and take my GED...but life got in the way. Instead, I continued teaching myself what I loved: film editing. I was on Final Cut Pro daily, fine tuning my editing skills and learning the ins and outs of the program. In many ways, I still felt insecure and incompetent thanks to many years of my experiences in school. However, film editing was the first thing I knew I was able to do and helped me believe in myself. I created plans for an editing business and worked on a few corporate training video projects, but at 18, thanks to my parents, I ended up with the experience of a lifetime - an experience that taught me greatly about passion, hard work, and management. In December of 2008, my sister, a friend, and I, wrote a TV show pilot script called "Little Blossom". My parents loved the script and encouraged us to create it. Of course, I don't think they realized at the time what that meant...In January, I had built a website for our project. By the end of the month, we had advertisements for actors out on Craigslist, Colorado Screen Actors Guild, and had contacted numerous talent agencies in the Denver area. Throughout February, we began auditioning actors for our ambitiously sized script. When I say ambitiously sized, I mean, when we do a project, we never think small. We go straight to big. Not big. Huge. Our production required 40 actors, at least 15 background extras, a camera crew, makeup crew, and 15 various filming locations.

The audition process alone was life changing for me...and I can safely say, we had no idea how many people would find out about our "little" project! Before we knew it, we had days full of auditions with actors flying in from Florida, New York, Los Angeles, and Las Vegas. As three young women ranging in age from 18-21, and all looking about 15, we were beyond nervous that we wouldn't be taken seriously. As we prepared for our first day as casting directors, we put on our business suits, our serious faces, and walked in to the office that would be our audition room for the next month or two. As the auditions passed and the days continued, we really got the hang of what we were doing...and over time, we realized that the actors coming in were far more nervous than we were. I spent years assuming that adults looked at me as an insecure little girl. The moment that changed was when we had a 45 year old man come in to our audition room, shaking throughout his audition, because the three of us made him that nervous! I will never forget that day. I'm not going to lie, it was a pretty good day! Over the weeks, I stopped thinking about "will these people take us seriously?". I had a job to do, actors to hire, and I could care less. We were interviewing actors for parts ranging in age from 12 to 65! If anyone had a problem with us, that was their problem, not ours.

After the audition process passed and we had a full cast, we began writing contracts, release forms, etc. It was my first experience looking at legal contracts! I learned quite a bit about what the language in those and what needs to be added, removed, etc. As the summer arrived, my mother and I set out to find our various filming locations: the most challenging being a school for exterior and interior scenes! I fell in love with the outdoor layout of a school and we contacted them immediately. Unfortunately, they came back to us with a ridiculous contract. My mom couldn't understand half of it and as I read through, I realized it gave us liability for anything that happens on the grounds, whether we're there or not! I highlighted the line for my mom to read and we realized, as much as I loved the location, we had to find another school. The school we ended up at didn't have the layout needed to film the opening shot as I had hoped, but we made do with what we had!

Throughout June and July, we began holding rehearsals. During the rehearsals, we directed our various actors on their roles and prepped them throughout the summer. In the meantime, my sister Raishel, friend Rhiannon, and I, shopped for clothes for our cast and props for the sets. With filming right around the corner (our first day was August 1st!), we had to hustle. A couple of days before filming, one of our actresses got her character's attire and didn't approve. Her character was a flirty, sexy, high school student who wore shorts skirts, high heels, and tight fitting tops. The next day, she informed us that she had taken it upon herself to shop at some very expensive stores to buy "sophisticated" attire for her character and expected reimbursement. Needless to say, with only a couple days before filming, we had a decision to make...and the decision was easy. We had an ensemble cast so we cut her entire character (and yes, she was a lead!), out of the script, rewrote scenes, added a few scenes for other characters, and fired her. I had never made a decision so quickly in my life...but we had no time to cast someone new and we weren't going to let her do whatever she wanted! This taught me that no matter what issues arise in business, there are always solutions if you think fast on your feet.

Promo photo from the set of "Little Blossom" (August 2009)

Filming was a hectic and wild ride. Some days, we would wake up at 4:30 am, return home after midnight, write the call sheet, and do it all over again. It taught me how to work on very little sleep, how to schedule, and ultimately, how to manage. As the days continued on set, my sister and I co-directed the actors every day, repeatedly tried to teach the "professional" camera crew how to film (we quickly found out they weren't as professional as they said!), and tried to keep the makeup crew from having breakdowns when things fell behind. One day, a couple weeks into filming, we had our largest scene yet. We had about 25 people at a house, waiting to film a scene. The house was owned by our cameraman and he was supposed to have set up the set and scene in advance...but that hadn't happened. Instead, our cast was waiting around throughout the day, for him to finish setting up the scene. My sister ended up having a breakdown (As luck would have it, our ambulance had arrived for a scene and the paramedics were still there and able to check that she was okay!). My dad had flipped out completely and left, and my mom and I remained to deal with the exhausted cast members who were crying and having meltdowns, a fussy makeup team constantly getting angry and asking us when things would be done, and a lazy camera crew...I don't like to call people lazy but every time we went to check on them, they were sitting down and chatting while everyone waited for them to finish their work! It was probably the worst day of my life but somehow, I managed to do everything. I still don't actually know how, but I did.

After a month of filming, we finally wrapped production. A month or so later, my family left for our vacation to Australia and New Zealand, which is where I met my wonderful husband (read our love story here)! Upon our return, I went straight to editing the show and we continued into post-production, renting out a recording studio to record ADR for noisier scenes. In April of 2010, we were ready to premiere the show!

Photo from the premiere (April 2010)

Unfortunately, at the end of the day, we didn't have the connections or knowledge of the entertainment industry to bring the show anywhere. At the time, it was hard to acknowledge that, but in the long run, I don't think that experience had anything to do with pitching and launching a network TV show. It ended up being a major confidence builder that taught me about the strength I never knew I had.

That experience was the reason that when Gwith and I opened our restaurant, Aroha, last year, I knew we could manage it. I'm not sure if I had continued in school if I would have the confidence and self-respect that I have now at 23 years old. Maybe I would've found it eventually, but I tend to doubt it. Not everyone needs to experience a giant film production to find their confidence. The point is, we all just need to find something. Some people find their confidence through good grades and the school system...and that's awesome for them. However, some us find it through our creative outlets, our athletics, or our passions for helping people and making the world a better place. Society places far too much importance on school being the only outlet that can mark success. At the end of the day, only we can mark our own success and believing in ourselves is what gets us there. Grades are just a mark on a piece of paper and no reflection on our intelligence and work ethic. If grades and school truly marked these things, then by all standards, Gwith and I wouldn't be capable of being where we are today.

I hope as our restaurant builds in success, that one day Gwith and I can obtain the funds to continue forth with another big dream of mine. I was lucky enough to have parents that could fund my dream of "Little Blossom" and help me towards my passions in life. My dream is to begin a foundation one day that can do the same for other high school drop-outs like my husband and I. I would love to make other peoples dreams a possibility and help them build their confidence and abilities by letting them learn to write business plans, obtain the funds for their businesses, and gain management skills, or pursue their goals as artists, or any other career they dream of succeeding in. I truly believe that if more people were encouraged and helped on the paths they dream to take, they'll get there.

Believe in yourself and anything is possible.

It's Your Thoughts, Not Your Age, That Matter When You Get Married

I'm twenty-four years old and I got married at the age of twenty. Plenty of people would say that my age was far too young to get married. Yet, if someone gets married at the age of thirty, plenty of people would say "It's about time!". When did important life decisions become about a number, rather than just knowing when you're ready?

I am very much in love with my husband and I have been since practically the moment we met. But when I made the decision to marry him, my love for him was only a small part of my decision. For just being in love, does not make anyone ready for marriage.

Marriage is about being ready to spend your life compromising, sharing your decisions, and above all, understanding how to balance your needs while selflessly making decisions to benefit your spouse. It's about being ready to grow up and take on a million new responsibilities you never saw coming. It's about accepting your spouse for every single part of them, the good and the bad, and being ready to deal with the ups and downs that go along with that.

With things like Facebook now a days, it's hard for people not to compare themselves to their peers. At 24, I see all kinds of different worlds on my Facebook in my age group. There are the people that are married, the ones with children, some who are already divorced, and the couples who aren't married yet but have been together for years. Then there are the singles who are off in grad school, others beginning their new exciting careers, working non-stop, and then a handful who somehow still party and drink like they never left high school. The point is, every one is different. There isn't an age that makes you ready for the future. Only you can decide when you're truly ready.

At twenty years old, I was lucky enough to know. Since I was a little girl, the only thing I could remember wanting more than anything in the world was a family of my own. Before I met my husband, I had dated my fair share of guys and each one taught me about myself and what I was looking for in a relationship. They also taught me that sometimes, you only see what you want to see when you're in the moment. I dated a guy I really liked when I was 17, and yet, I don't even know why I liked him so much. Deep down, I knew he wasn't right for me but I didn't want to admit it to myself. When he broke up with me, I was heartbroken. However, as time passed and the blinders I had kept so tightly on came off, it was clear to me that he and I would have never worked out. I think what I liked about him was that he was a symbol of the independence I was so eager to have. However, this one major attraction didn't mean we were in any way compatible.

When I met my husband at 18, there were clear signs that made me realize over time that he was the one for me. However, the biggest sign was how natural I felt around him. Whether I felt ridiculously goofy or mind-blowingly frustrated, he always understood. I knew at any moment I could be myself and he would never hold me back, only help me blossom further. And I realized I did the same for him. To me, his "faults" aren't "faults". They're personality traits that make him who he is, and it is part of marriage to find the ability to understand and respect them. The fact is, if I had to choose between a lifetime of his faults or a lifetime without him, it wouldn't even be a choice. There is no world that I can picture without him. Like all big decisions in life, you should never hide from the negative sides you may see. These sides only help you decide what you truly want and what you're truly ready for.

At twenty years old, when he proposed to me, I didn't ever just expect the happy moments. I never went in with blinders on. I knew exactly who I was marrying and expected that we'd face challenges along the way. In some ways, I prepared myself for things that never even happened. Honestly, I feel like when we got married, we both knew who the other person was so well that we've never judged each other for our differences. Our annoyances or frustrations never give us thoughts of "maybe this isn't working". They only help us strive to be an even more dynamic couple.

The point is, no matter what age you are, falling in love is always easy. It's getting married, however, that takes a different level of understanding that only you will know if you're truly ready for.

Finding Your Creativity

I woke up in the middle of the night last night and I couldn't fall back asleep. There was a conversation I had earlier yesterday that had my brain spinning and I was trying to think of solutions. This conversation was in no way negative, it was one where I just wanted to find a way to help.

It was about finding your creativity. As an all around creative person, I know just how tough it is to hit a mental block. I've had a year go by where I couldn't write a single song and it depressed me beyond belief. I'd even sit down, try to write a few phrases, and then realize they meant absolutely nothing to me.

One day, I don't know how I realized my cure, but I did. After many stressful months of changes in my life and me trying to shrug it all off and "get through it", I closed my eyes. I let myself feel the struggles that I was trying so hard to mask. Suddenly, a flood of songs came to me within days. It's like I couldn't stop. Happy feelings. Sad feelings. Fearful feelings. Loving feelings. They were all there again and the second I let the words hit the paper, I could feel the thoughts I had kept bottled inside of me for months leaving me. Once the songs were complete and I sang them repeatedly, I ended up with closure.

At the end of the day, I realized. Creativity has nothing to do with anyone else. Creativity is personal and it's private and it's something you do for you. If you eventually choose to share it with others, you do. But there shouldn't be any pressure to do so. First and foremost, you have to do it for you, and the only way to do that is use your creativity like your own personal diary.

The fact is, every book, song, or painting is every creators own personal diary. And yet, through months of struggling with my own emotions, I found comfort in singing other people's songs. Trying to relate to what they were singing about. The honest truth though is, nothing other than your own art will "cure" you. Because even if you love a song, a story, or a character, and it makes perfect sense to you, at the end of the day, you can still shrug it off as someone else. Yet when you create it, when you write it, there's no one else it stems from but you.

So, here's my advice. If you're going through a creative block right now, I want you to close your eyes. Picture that little box inside of you that holds your emotions. Take a key, unlock it, and let your emotions come out. If you're a writer, write about it. Start your novel by creating a character that feels what you feel, thinks what you think, fears what you fear, experiences what you've experienced. Even if you can't think of how to begin the story, begin your prologue with your character talking about their own writer's block. Their own fear to let their emotions loose. Begin from there and let your feelings guide you. Don't worry about the imperfections in the story, the chapters that you skip, write from where you can and write from what you know. Don't plan to show your story to anyone. Let it be personal and don't be afraid to let this character express everything you feel.

My go to first phrase as a songwriter when I'm struggling to find the words is, "Today, I woke up". Whether I write it into my song or not, I begin from that place, because for me, my feelings and emotions are always in the front of my mind when I awake. As the day progresses, a million distractions come my way but if I think back to how I felt when I opened my eyes and what was on my mind, I can always work from there.

The fact is, once your emotions are free, it's easier to write, sing, paint, etc. about anything else. Every story, even the fantasy stories people write are somewhere based on their feelings, thoughts, and experiences. But to get there and write a story that you or anyone else can connect with, you first have to deal with your reality and discover your own emotions.

If you just open that little treasure box inside your mind, you'll discover a lot about yourself, and once you open it, you can begin to deal with it. The beauty of creativity is that you don't have to deal with it through analysis or long discussions. You can deal with it in the most personal heartfelt way you know how. Through your own art and your own characters. Somehow, my songs always begin with my struggles, but they always end with a conclusion. Like any story, there has to be a beginning, middle, and end. If you start your story from the beginning (or even the middle!), eventually, you will find your own conclusion because there's no other way for it to end.

The True Definition of You

It's funny how when you're a certain age, or when you're still trying to discover who you are, how you latch on to things to help "define" you, yet the only thing in this world that defines you ends up being you.

When I was 16, I was obsessed with Buffy the Vampire Slayer. If I could've become Buffy, I think I would have. I couldn't go a conversation without somehow connecting the show and I most certainly couldn't go a week, if even a day, without watching an episode (or a full fledged marathon!). I was obsessed with going to conventions, meeting the actors, and getting their autographs. I had to get prop replicas and always made fan music videos. Everything in my life somehow related to the show. If I was depressed, I was season six Buffy. If I was trying to work out my own teen years and problems in school, I was high school Buffy. My obsession with Buffy continued for a few years. Until one day, it didn't. Don't get me wrong, I still love the show. It will always be one of my favorites. But my world somewhere around 18 stopped revolving around the show and with each passing year, it slowly faded into the background.

Convention photo with Buffy the Vampire Slayer star, James Marsters, and my sister, Raishel

What changed? Me. My life. At 16, all I wanted was to escape into some fantasy world. Now, at 24, everything is so different. Back then, if I was given the choice to watch TV or go out, I would've gladly chosen TV (unless it was somehow Buffy related of course!). Now, given the choice, I would always choose spending time with my family or driving off on an adventure with my husband or working on some creative project.

It's ironic. At 16, I would've been the first person to defend why TV is amazing and necessary in life. In fact, I did so on many occasions with my parents. At 24, I understand it's entertainment value and to an extent, I still understand the lessons that a person can learn from a show. I mean, I did learn at six years old never to drink and drive thanks to Party of Five! It opens up conversations and it allows you to learn about different perspectives. However, shouldn't life do that? As a reformed TV addict, I now constantly wonder what good being obsessed with a TV show does. In the end, I feel like it can become more of a mask than anything else. Someone else's story that you use to hide behind when life gets tough.

I'm thankful for the people in my life, who without knowing it, helped me remove my mask and discover my passions and reclaim myself. Through some incredible life milestones, from getting married to moving to CA to opening our restaurant, I've learned that I don't want to escape my world, I want to embrace it. When things are complicated and I get scared of what's to come, I no longer turn to TV as my comforting friend. I turn to the people around me for guidance or support.

Our Wedding (September 3, 2011)

The truth is, no material thing in this world will ever define you. That's why our obsessions and interests change year after year. It's why something we loved one year may repulse us the next. Because truthfully, the only definition of you is what comes from inside. It's your thoughts, your feelings, your real world experiences. Everything else is just a mask. Don't get me wrong, it's okay to love these things and life wouldn't be life without having interests and hobbies, but the point is, it's also equally okay to wake up one day and feel differently. You should never let it define you because life changes and you're constantly evolving.

In the end, never lose sight of who you actually are at the core. Because that person is amazing and deserves to shine...and that is something a TV show (or any other obsession for that matter) will never provide.

Aroha Restaurant: Our Craziest Night Yet

I'm not going to lie - Saturday night was amazing in a lot of ways but today, I'm still feeling an endless amount of anxiety.

The truth is, nobody and nothing you do is ever perfect. And especially not on the first try. That night was definitely one of those examples. Things didn't run as smoothly as they normally do and service was slow, even though for us, it felt like a marathon was being run. First of all, our last "busy" night was in November, and we served around 65 people in 3.5 hours. Before that, we slowly built from serving 30 people on a Saturday night, to 40 people, to 50 people, etc. We still had a few hiccups with 65 people but in general, we had eased into it.  Suddenly once December hit, our Saturday nights slowed to a halt. Last week, we served 30 people for 3 hours. So imagine our surprise this Saturday when 85 people showed up in a 2.5 hour timeframe...

For the very first time since we opened, not a single table at the restaurant was empty. It was amazing to know so many people had suddenly decided to give us a try. Of course, I've been wishing repeatedly that we and our staff had expected it!

With only four people in the kitchen preparing three course meals for 85 people within a 2.5 hour time frame, I'm surprised a majority of the tables actually got served in a timely manner. I was even more surprised while making the rounds from table to table that one table actually got their main courses too early!

Luckily, for the most part, the guests were incredibly understanding. They know we're new, they see we're working hard, and they have amazing confidence that we will get our pacing down. Unfortunately, there's always a customer or two that you can't rectify the situation with no matter what...and it completely kills me.

For me, it doesn't matter that 81 of our 85 guests were happy and understanding. In the end, all I can think about are those four customers who left unhappy. Why? Because I truly want everyone to be happy. I want everyone to have the best experience possible and to know that we couldn't give it to them devastates me completely. To make matters worse, Yelp, always comes around to haunt you. Again, countless five star reviews but when that one one star review creeps up, it's heartbreaking every time. I wish I could say I'm sorry to them or turn the clock back to make things run differently. But truthfully, no matter what I wish I could've done, I'm pretty sure if I repeated the day, it all would have turned out the same. No matter what, we couldn't be everywhere at once and I can't continue to beat myself up for it.

Because that's the thing. When you're running your very first business at 23 and 26 years old, or any age for that matter, your going to mess up. You're going to have an off day. But how else are you ever going to make something successful in life? No one succeeds at anything in life without screwing up the first few times around, because honestly, that's the only way you learn.

The most hurtful thing to me is to have our work be chalked up to being a result of "amateur management". The hardest thing about being a young business owner is that all of our mistakes are considered a result of us being young and therefore incompetent. Yes, we're young. Yes, things did not go as planned. That's not amateur, that's just life. For a fresh new business, there's no way mistakes aren't going to ever be made. However, many restaurants have these problems after years of being open, with experienced managers over the age of 40. In the end, I feel proud because we're only four months in. In four months, we've dealt with so many challenges and have managed to arise to the occasion practically every single time. So we made a mistake. Who hasn't? In the end, all we can do is learn and grow from the experience. And for the last year, my husband and I have done exactly that.

For the rest of our time in this industry, and in life in general, we will continue to learn from our negative experiences and use them to our advantage.

So to those customers Saturday night who left unhappy and angry, I am sorry. We didn't intentionally fall behind in the kitchen and we didn't intentionally avoid apologizing to your table. We will however, continue to intentionally work to fix these problems so they do not happen again on our future busy nights.

My 2014 Wrap-Up

Have a Happy New Year Everyone!

This year has been one wild ride. If someone had asked me a year ago where I saw myself today, I guarantee I never would've imagined this.

It has not been an easy year. To be honest, it has probably been one of the most difficult years of my life thus far. I feel like I've been tested time and time again and some days it's been really hard to see whether I'm passing or failing. But if there's one thing I've learned throughout the year, it's that it doesn't matter. What matters is that you try. You give it all you've got. So many people let fear run their lives and it keeps them from experiencing everything this world has to offer. In the end, not trying is the biggest failure of all.

Last year, my grandfather passed away. While I've had other people I've known pass away, this was the first time it affected me as greatly as it did. When he and my mother-in-law both passed, a huge part of me shut down. Suddenly I realized how short life really was and I couldn't help but think about all of the people in my life right now who one day, won't be here. This feeling was so strong and caused me to push away from those I love dearly and dreams that I once had. After all, in my mind, why does it all matter if you can't trust that it will always be here?

In the past few weeks, I'm not sure how this realization finally came to me but it did. I realized how much it does matter. Doing things you dream to do and being with the people you love matters. It's the reason why just weeks before my grandpa died, he looked at an album of his life and said, "I really did have a wonderful life." I realize now that when he passed away, there was no fear. There was no regret. He passed away with a smile on his face knowing that in the almost 89 years he was given, he succeeded. He had a million stories, a family he loved with all of his heart, and a lifetime of memories. The good, the bad. It doesn't matter. In the end, it's all just one long story. So where does it lead? What is it all for? I guess those are just two of life's many unsolved mysteries. We don't know and we probably never will. But if everything in life leads somewhere, than maybe death isn't an end. Maybe it's a new beginning that we just can't see.

This year, I've gone through so much change. I feel like I've been spending months battling where I am in life. Am I enough of an adult or am I too adult? I'm 23 years old and I feel like I've been having a far too soon mid-life crisis. The truth is, there is no timetable on who you are or where you are. You just are. Some days, I want to feel like a kid. I want to talk for my stuffed animals, watch "The Little Mermaid", and daydream about my future. Other days, I want to feel like a teenager again. I want to walk around in my shorts and crop top, film a wacky video, and play The Sims. And then other days, I want to feel like my "grown up" self. I want to dress in my fancy clothes, manage my business, organize the house, and run errands with my husband. I don't know if this is what being 23 is all about for everyone. But for me, this is where I am in life. I'm a little bit of everything and maybe that's okay, because maybe, I'm supposed to be. In the end, this is me.

The conclusion I've come to as this year wraps up, is that it's time to stop running. I'm an adult, I'm a kid, it doesn't matter. I am who I am and I'll continue to grow and change. At the end of the day, I think adulthood is just about accepting responsibility and allowing yourself to grow. We spend all of our childhood and teen years fighting adults because we think they're holding us back from growing up. And yet, when it's time to truly become an adult, the only person holding us back is ourselves. It's a scary world. No one's ever going to argue with that. But at some point, we just each have to take that leap and allow ourselves to experience whatever the future may hold. Because in the end, not experiencing it is far more terrifying than anything else.

Every year since 2005 on December 31st, I've filled out a recap of the year. My recaps include everything from fun facts like my favorite TV show and how we spent the holidays to heartbreaking moments and greatest memories. My favorite part, is that every year I fill out a prediction titled "Next year will be the year of...". I never look at my recaps or predictions again until the year comes to a close the following December.

Here's what I wrote on December 31st 2013:

"Next year will be the year of...accepting adulthood, moving forward, and becoming a stronger woman."

It took me almost exactly a year to get there, but somehow, through all the struggles, the tears, and the doubt, without even realizing it, I did.

If I had looked at that prediction three weeks ago, I would've looked down, closed my eyes, and wished that it were true, but I would've known that it wasn't. It's weird how the heart and mind heals when you least expect it to. I don't know how or even when it happened. But just like everything else in life, it just did.

In almost every way, this year was full of the unexpected. Yet somehow, in almost exactly a year, I got to exactly where I wanted to be.

Life Lessons I Learned from "Beverly Hills, 90210"

First of all, if you've never watched "Beverly Hills, 90210", you have missed out big time and you need to fix that right away. For the record though, and to quote my silly dad who once said to me when trying to get me to try food, "I didn't say it was good, I said you should try it."

There is no better way to describe "Beverly Hills, 90210". Frankly, the show sucks. There is absolutely nothing redeemable about it and I understand why people laugh at the idea of watching it. And yet, it's one of my favorite guilty pleasures. Why? Because it's absolutely that ludicrous. It's an experience you won't get from any other show (as far as I know) and you're likely to laugh for years over the ridiculous moments of it.

We are all used to shows from back in the day trying to teach us life lessons. Don't have unprotected sex, don't go out with abusive people, don't do drugs, etc. However, no show did it better than 90210. Sorry, did I say better? I meant worse.

The point is, there is no show that can teach you Valuable Life Lessons more than BH, 90210!

Click through the slide show to learn some things that your parents never told you.