You’ll Never

Never is a hard word to swallow or say.

But I can guarantee you this one thing: you’ll never be as pretty as the super model selling things to you.

No matter what you buy, no matter what you try.

And I want you to sit in that pain for a minute… and then realize that you’re not going to look like that super model because you are too busy looking like you.

And what a wonderful thing that is.

So, be yourself, above all else. You can still do it with the make-up, dress, bra, workout routine, that you found online.

But be you while you are doing it.



Don’t Forget to Count Yourself

When I was a little kid, one of the first books I read was “The Five Fishermen.” And it was all about five fishermen who went fishing, and for some reason they had to count themselves, and the one that was doing the counting only counted 4 fishermen because he forgot to count himself.

Don’t forget to count yourself. I don’t mean when you’re fishing. But when people are giving their opinions. When you’re deciding how to live your life. When you are trying to be the most authentic you.

Without you, there is no fifth fisherman and you forfeit your place at the table.

Speak up and count yourself in.



A Love Letter to My Hair

This week, instead of posting new things I want to stay silent and instead allow other POC voices to come through. This is a particularly moving piece about one woman’s journey with her hair. I loved this post and I hope you do too.

Let me just say, this is the longest amount of time I have ever spent on a blog post. It is a wide open door into a hidden part of me that I never …

A Love Letter to My Hair


We all know one (or are one).

A b**** – A woman (a word mostly used for women by women) who is loud, obnoxious, arrogant, pushy, and bossy.

But have you ever noticed that women call each other b****** when they simply don’t like what they’re doing? It seems a woman can’t ever stand up for herself, a woman cannot speak her mind, a woman cannot call out the errors of others without looking like a you know what.

Well, you know what? I’m not a Starbucks barista. I’m not here to put whip cream in your latte and a smile on your heart. I don’t have to be nice all the time. I can be respectful while still getting what I want.

I don’t have to be afraid of the b word anymore. Actually, it sort of has a nice ring to it. (Maybe I should change the old blog name to b****dailey).

At the end of the day, don’t be afraid of what people think of you. Because at the end of the day, you don’t have to spend time with anyone but yourself. After all, there’s a little b**** in all of us.


I’m sorry if I’ve already written on this subject (and maybe even titled it the same thing.) But that just happens. There’s some topics that seem to roll around in my head all day and I have to revisit them. 

And what exactly rolls around in my head all day? The fact that we compare ourselves so much. We don’t have the same car, job, clothes, things as other people, and that somehow makes us lesser. Even personality. That person is funnier, nicer, and smarter than us, and we suddenly don’t measure up in any other category as well. It’s as if the brighter someone else’s light is, the more we should dim our own. 

But I’m here to tell you that that’s not true. That this life is not either/or. It’s very much “and.” You can be something and someone else can be something, and you can both be good. The difference is that you’re just…different.

So the next time that you feel the need to compare, remind yourself that there’s a lot of people on this earth. And somehow, we all have the right to exist in it, even though we’re not all the best at everything. But you’re not an ultimatum to someone. You’re a whole universe unto yourself. 

Like No One is Watching; Like Everyone is Watching

Here’s a paradox for you: We feel the most secluded from the world when we’re in our cars, and yet we are surrounded by windows. Maybe you’ve gotten into your car and tried balancing your checkbook or have taken a selfie…with the whole world watching. (At least the entire parking lot.) You’ll notice pretty quickly that there’s always an audience.

And then, we’ve all had a time where we’ve stepped into our car, turned the key in the ignition, and blasted our favorite song from the radio. We’re feeling good, and most importantly, we’re alone. So, it feels like the perfect time to transform into the best karaoke-singing, high-note hitting, grooving and moving, actor or actress in a music video.

And I have to agree it does feel good.

I truly don’t know what comes over me on my ride home, but I find myself uncontrollably belting out my favorite songs. And you know what? I try to make sure the windows are rolled down to get the full effect of it all. (You know, so my hair can whip around and go in my mouth, and I can choke a little bit on the chorus).

But there’s something else that I’ve been doing rather subconsciously on my rides home besides singing along to my favorite tunes: I’ve been turning down the music when I pull up to a stop light. Actually, I shut it down altogether. And for what? So that the person in the car next to me doesn’t confuse my singing with a cat dying? So that the person in the car next to me doesn’t find out that I have no shame when it comes to Shakira? So that the person in the car next to me isn’t annoyed while we’re both waiting for the light to change?

Why? Because we’re all supposed to “dance like no one’s watching,” right? It’s been beaten into our brains that we need to act “normal” when other people are around. We can’t let anyone else see how we act when we’re really alone. Essentially, we can never be ourselves because it’s “embarrassing.” Even when we’re in the relative privacy of our cars. And sometimes, even when we’re in the relative privacy of our own lives.

Because that’s the point. No matter where you are, you’re waiting for someone to watch you or judge you, consciously or subconsciously. Even if you don’t realize it, you may be turning down the dial on yourself only to accommodate someone else.

And do you know what I say to that? Act like no one is watching, so you can be truly you. And act like everyone is watching because it doesn’t matter if they are.

You can have it both ways. And at the end of the day, you’ll wonder why you ever thought you couldn’t.

Do It For The Story

This was both the slogan and the excuse during college.

Wait, you have a test tomorrow? No, no, no, dude. DUDE. We need to rob a bank, grab some corn dogs, jump the fence to the community center, and draw mustaches on all of the “Rent-a-Cop” posters. 

And any sensible person would at least ask why. But your friends already knew the answer: It’s so that you can be the coolest person at the party, strangers gathered around, beer in one hand and the other hand slightly raised in the air, describing how you scaled the fence to the community center only to find that your best friend was hanging from his underwear at the top. Like your friend, all of the people at the party are also hanging: on your every word.

And really, this isn’t news. Humans have a long oral history. We love stories. It’s how we communicate dangers, humor, and understanding. We are completely fascinated with telling others what has happened to us in order to warn them or simply make them laugh.

But that’s the key. To tell a story, you need an audience.

Which brings me directly to my point. You can have all the money in the world. You can jet-set to Japan to see the sunrise only to race back to New York to see it again. You can wear bikinis in Hawaii and parkas in Alaska in the same weekend. You can rub elbows, and maybe even noses, with celebrities. You can buy a mansion and have a wing just for your dog. You can invest that money, donate it to charity, and make it all back again.

And that would be great, truly. But it wouldn’t mean anything without someone to talk to about all of your adventures, all of your experiences, all of your fears. It would mean nothing if you couldn’t share it with at least one other person (romantically or platonically).

You see, as a young person who is not entirely sure what she wants to do with this box of chocolates we call life, I’ve always figured that if I had enough money, all of my problems would be solved. I could travel the world, like I want to. I could buy a house and rescue all of the homeless dogs, like I want to. I could feed the hungry and make a difference, like I want to. Yes, I could eat lots of corn dogs, like I want to.

But in the end, what would it amount to if I couldn’t tell my story to someone? Is a sunrise seen alone as sweet as one shared? For that matter, is a corn dog?

That’s a lesson this social media generation can relate to: “pictures or it didn’t happen.” Well, your life is one snapshot in a billion. If there is no one to appreciate its beauty, does it really matter that it happened?

And I know, it’s sort of like a “if a tree fell in a forest” argument, but I wonder if I didn’t have life already figured out in college, when I did everything for the story. I wonder if I’m not trying to complicate everything now that I’ve graduated.

The point is, you can rob a bank, eat corn dogs, and draw mustaches on unsuspecting Rent-A-Cops. But if you have no one to talk to, no one to laugh or cry with, no one to enjoy the stories of your life with, you have nothing.

In the end, it isn’t what we leave behind. It’s who we leave behind, and what we shared with them that truly matters. Write your story and make it a good one so that others will want to share it, too.

Why I Was Not as Impressed with Lady Gaga Last Night

I told my dad to shut up tonight. This is not something I do often. This is not something I want to do often. But I think it was warranted, at least for a moment. Why don’t I tell you what happened, and you can decide? (As if you have a choice…)

We were watching a recap of the Oscars on the nightly news when Lady Gaga’s performance of the Sound of Music came on. In her flowing white gown and her equally white hair, she belted out the songs formally made famous by Julie Andrews and countless others. No one could deny that she did the Sound of Music franchise justice (after Carrie Underwood almost buried it completely).

Then, after her last note rang out, my father said the following: “If only she didn’t have a trumpet tattooed on her arm…”

And so, I said the offending remark because I am sick of people judging others for what they choose to do with their lives and their bodies. But then I thought about it. And I realized that my dad had only said what so many people had written in articles all over the Internet about the performance (so, sorry, Dad).

Everyone could not stop talking about how great she looked. But what they were really saying was how normal she looked.

You see, everyone liked Lady Gaga’s performance last night because everyone understood it. Because for once in her career, she wasn’t wrapped in meat, she didn’t have a mask on, she didn’t look strange. She looked like us, and she sang like she was “supposed” to sing. And everyone was shocked at how good she was! And yet Lady Gaga fans were saying, “uh, duh? Where have you been since ‘Poker Face’? She is tremendously talented! Not everyone has to sing opera to be considered a good singer!”

Now, as a Lady Gaga fan, I understand this reaction from the world, to a point. I definitely fell off the bandwagon when ArtPop came out. It was too politically charged with far too much symbolism (I know, coming from an English major that’s a bold claim.) After her latest album, I felt that she was trying way too hard, drawing inspiration from her fans instead of from the wonderful person she is, creating a vacuum where we drew on her and she drew on us.

Of course, I think we can all understand where Lady Gaga is coming from with her past appearances, even if we wouldn’t also wear shoulder pads that are the size of our own head. At one of her concerts, she talked extensively about how she was bullied as a kid. And you don’t need a psych degree to know that most of those costumes are her armor. She also said that she was told that she was too “broadway for pop, and too pop for broadway,” and so it is obvious that Lady Gaga has spent a lot of her time trying to fit in somewhere.

But along the way, has she lost herself?

We see it time and time again. Sometimes, the “persona” in Hollywood is really a shtick. Sometimes, when celebs get to be famous enough, they shake off the excess and turn into what the rest of the world wants them to be because they’ve made it, and they don’t need to draw attention to themselves anymore. And sometimes, that’s okay. I get it, anyway you can make it, you should. But I thought that Gaga’s creativity was a part of her, and not a complete front.

I don’t think the Internet is right to applaud for her not looking “crazy.” It sends the message that she shouldn’t be who she is because if she isn’t that person, more people can appreciate her talent. If she was more mainstream, she could make a real “comeback.” If she did what we expected her to do, she would be more successful.

In the end, I don’t care how Lady Gaga dresses. I don’t care how well Lady Gaga sings. I just hope that she stays true to herself because so few free spirits do, especially under the glaring eye of the media.

So, Lady Gaga, if that was just a quick dip into the normal gene pool, then I hope you don’t listen to anyone about how much “better” you look. I hope you continue to be yourself. And, if this is who you have been all along, then, welcome to the rest of the world. You will truly be at home here.

A Cold Hard Look at Happy

Don’t cover your ears. I promise this isn’t about Pharrell’s latest hit.

But another musician has a good question for you: Laura Marling. She asks, “When were you happy, and how long has that been?” 

Well? Don’t let the good lady wait. How long has it been since you were happy?

If you’re looking at the ground, avoiding contact with this blog post because you can’t really remember the last time you were happy, I don’t blame you. And if you can remember when you were happy, but you’re ashamed because it’s been awhile, I don’t blame you either.

Because here it is, straight no chaser: we put too much pressure on ourselves to be happy. And then, when we are, it’s hard to pinpoint why.

Throughout your day, you experience a lot of emotions. A range, a wealth, a deluge. And they span the Richter scale of negativity and positivity (not necessarily in that order. Sometimes it’s more like positive, negative, negative, negative, positive, negative, positive, sleep). We collect feelings like a deck of playing cards: Stress, confidence, panic, sheer panic, confusion, delight, etc. And all of those feelings get pushed aside because someone has told you that you should be happy, all the time. Because if you’re happy, everything will be alright.

But happy is like anything else. Getting skinny won’t solve all of your confidence problems. Getting rejected from a job or from a love interest does not mean you’re the absolute worst. And likewise, being happy won’t fix all of your problems.

You just have to have a positive outlook most of the time about most of your life. Everyone gets down, everyone wants to employ a fetal position sometimes, everyone has an Achilles heel that when pinched turns you into the Incredible Hulk when you’re usually like Hello Kitty. But, somehow, everyone gets through it. And somehow, you do too.

So, let’s get technical. (Talk nerdy to me).

The definition for “happy” that you’ve been operating under goes a little something like this: feeling pleasure or enjoyment because of your life, situation, etc.

But the full definition of “happy” includes this little gem: favored by luck or fortune.

And BAM! You’re back in your high school English class, and you realize that Juliet (famous for her Romeo) does not talk to a “happy” dagger because she is feeling pleasure or enjoyment (because she isn’t) but that she is lucky that she has the dagger. (Morbid stuff, huh?)

So, maybe if we stop forcing ourselves to be pleased with our situation. If we stop trying to draw smiles on our faces when we really just feel like screaming into a pillow (or multiple pillows, or a full mattress), maybe then we could strive for happiness. But until that time, we need to see our lives as lucky or fortunate instead of simply pleasurable. We need to take the typical “happy” pressure off ourselves. If you’re gonna smile, then smile like you mean it.