Quotes:

• “The good news is you plant the seed. The bad news is all plants grow.”
• “I stopped confusing intensity with intimacy.”
• “Struggle doesn’t make me worthy. Existence does.”
• “Even pain was proof I was still alive enough to love.”
• “No matter where I’m at, I’m always going to be loved by those I’m energetically matched with. So I’ll be obsessed. And unapologetic. Because I’ll be loved either way.”
• “I can’t reason it. I can’t reason why I just can’t be myself. I can’t reason why I never give up. I can’t reason why despite having no engagement, I post and I write even when I don’t want to. Yea I see potential, but statistically, financially, and most importantly analytically, there’s no reason for me to continue going; in fact there’s more reason to stop. But even if I died tomorrow, I will do it all again in another life. And honestly, I think that’s why I chose to be here. Everything I stopped myself from doing, everything I withdrew on, I came to do in this life. That’s why I have a million passions. That’s why I can’t not be myself. I chose to be here to put everything that’s been on my soul’s heart into the world one last time.”
• “I know what it feels like to be my dream self — happy, worry-free, and radiant — and I can feel that anytime.”
• “I realized that when God told me to be silent a long time ago, I interpreted that externally. I assumed he wanted me to close my eyes, lock the door, pray in silence, learning and abiding from within, giving power to nothing external, etc. But then it hit me: He didn’t mean external silence. He meant internal. He wanted my mind to be silent. Silent from doubt, worry, and thought in general. I can meditate and not hear a peep from anything outside of me, but that’s not the silence he was referring to.”
• “I can feel my mom’s presence. Just because I’m thinking about it. To call something, a thought, not only do I give it life, I give it presence.”
• “I also wanted to mention my further grace to God. I am at a point in my life, in my wisdom, where it’s not only impossible to go back, but I don’t even identify with remnants of my past. I physically look at past situations as if they’re separate alternate lives or memories of an alternate life. Which they are.”

“But that’s just my nature. I love searching. Finding. Revealing. Hiding. And I think the biggest misfortune of all was when I realized as a child, that everything I was curious of or found special to my own experiences; there was already a name for. What a crime. A crime to my life. I felt robbed. What am I if not what I search for? What do I hold to myself if everything is already in the hand of another?”

Asking “why” like it was a prayer… or a curse.  

Every problem, every situation, every event had to have a search for reason. Why did this happen? Why do I feel like this? Why can’t I let it go?  And every “why” just led to more questions. More spirals. More noise.  

Then I read this line from Etel Adnan’s “Mount Tamalpais”: 

“The night freed us from our obsession with reason.”

To call my life an obsession stopped me in my tracks. We’re always encouraged to pursue our curiosity, we’re always told to keep asking why in the pursuit of reason or emotion. And it remains encouraged. Curiosity is the root of fruition. 

But then it turns into obsession. Trying to reason my way into peace. Into healing. Into control.  

For years, I treated healing like a riddle to be solved. As if peace would come if I just figured it out. As if love and pain have words to perfectly describe it, and when I found those words, I’d finally have it all. Just one more breakthrough, one more page in my journal, one more late-night analysis of someone’s tone or timing.

As if reason would free me from the weight of being human.

Some things are meant to be experienced.  

Some pain isn’t meant to be solved. Some beauty isn’t meant to be explained.  

Some healing isn’t logical. It’s *felt*. It’s lived. It’s breathed.

So now marks a point in my life where I surrender to mystery, not confusion. 

To being alive without always needing to know why.

What are you still trying to understand that might just want to be felt?

But in life, everything has its polarity. When I lost my mom, the idea of gain felt not just impossible, but cruel. What could I possibly gain from her absence? How could anything good come from a life no longer lived?

Yet, this past year, I’ve seen my mother in ways I never did before. She’s in every part of my life, nudging her way in: whispering her thoughts, stirring old memories, making her presence known. Sometimes, I catch a whiff of her perfume. Sometimes, I feel her energy settle into a room. And sometimes, as crazy as it sounds, when I’m stuck between choices, I see her face, tilting me toward one. Maybe it’s her. Maybe it’s what she stood for: motherhood, guidance, clarity. Either way, she’s there.

I’ve always second-guessed myself. My boyfriend calls me the “queen of overthinking.” Every decision is dissected, every possibility analyzed. I’ve been this way for as long as I can remember. with thoughts looping, tangling, unraveling, only to start again.

Trust has been my lesson these past few months. Trusting the unknown. Trusting myself. And when she appears, when I feel her presence, it’s like a quiet confirmation. A reminder that I’m exactly where I need to be. Because if I weren’t, she wouldn’t be here.

So how does she work for me? What does she do behind the scenes? A familiar scent, a passing thought — these are reminders, but is there more?

I imagine her on the sidelines. I’m not a sports person, but I see her in the audience of my life, nodding when I make the right choices, laughing at my jokes, crying when I cry. She works through the unexpected blessings. Like when I applied to a modeling agency despite having Erb’s Palsy, remembering her words: “Learn to love your arm, because I won’t always be here to remind you.” She works when I’m in a dark mood, and a memory of her lifts me. She works by letting love move through me, not against me.

She’s here, every day. And for those who don’t believe our loved ones exist beyond death, let me tell you this: what she represented will always outlast her. She was guidance, creativity, love, and clarity. Clarity that things are unfolding as they should. Clarity that we are always supported. Clarity that love never really leaves. Not in this world, and not in the next.

There was pain, yes, but there was also a finality: a quiet goodbye that allowed me to grieve, to make peace with her absence. It felt like a new way of having her in my life: a softer, more distant version of her presence. As hard as it was, I knew that grief would come in cycles: when I see her favorite coffee shop, when I want someone to do my nails with, and of course, every holiday and accomplishment.

But with my dad, it’s been different. As my only parent left, it was almost forceful to become best friends. He was the one I could talk to about anything, the one I turned to when I needed advice or just someone who understood me. But what I failed to address were the years of absence, arguments, and resentment. Before I knew it, his priorities shifted, though I didn’t want to see it at first. Unfortunately, these changes began loooong before I could fully accept them.

Looking back, I realize how much I tried to ignore the truth. I forgave him over and over again for being absent in ways that mattered most, for neglecting our bond when it wasn’t convenient for him. I pushed it all down until I couldn’t anymore. Now, it feels like I’ve lost him. I no longer feel like his daughter, and that sense of belonging, of being his little girl, is gone.

A few days ago, I woke up with one of his old songs stuck in my head. It’s funny how memories have a way of resurfacing when you least expect it. The same two lines played on repeat, as if they were trying to tell me something:

“Live life and don’t be scared, just beware,
‘Cause it’s a jungle out there.”

I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe it was a sign, I thought, a way of reconnecting. Or maybe it was just a reminder to keep going, even in the silence between us. But the urge to call him didn’t come without hesitation. Deep down, I knew something wasn’t right. It’s not that a phone call would solve everything.

*Since writing this, I have reconnected with my Dad. Our reconnection is continued below.

Still, I decided to try. For months, I had avoided it, telling myself it was useless, that the father I remembered was gone. But something urged me to call, and intuitively, I did.

The call was hard. At first, it felt like talking to a stranger, with polite pauses and shallow conversation. But slowly, cracks appeared in the distance. It wasn’t the deep, effortless connection we once had, but it was a start.

After exchanging ‘I missed you’s’ and hearing his apologies, I realized he may have been different, but he was still here. And for the first time in months, I felt like maybe I could rebuild, even if it wouldn’t look like it used to.

The phone call quickly revealed the effects of absence. He didn’t know about my work life, my current relationships, and I barely knew of his. It felt like talking to a stranger who read a book on your life.

A few days later, I decided to call again. At the core of our closeness were updates: updates on what I did today, how my grades have been, what the latest gossip was. But the next conversation strayed much further from simple updates, it was instead a scene of retrospection. He addressed the lingering fact that we had to discuss the past. He believed it was necessary to move on. And as I agreed to a certain extent, part of me just wanted my Dad back.

I didn’t want to recollect the past several years. That can be done at anytime; it will be done at sometime. But while I had him, I wanted the simplicity of calling my Dad when I got a new job offer, when I needed his advice, when I read a new article and wanted his take on it. But it was obvious he wanted to tear down the wall before moving forward, and I just wanted to climb over it.

So we addressed some issues. And within there was the brutal honesty of telling him how I had felt — about the absence, the hurt, the grief of losing him while he was still alive.: not only within the months of not speaking, but sprinkled within the years after Mom died.

It wasn’t a magic fix. One conversation couldn’t erase years of distance. But it was the beginning of something new. I realized that while I was grieving the father he used to be, I also needed to make space for the man he had become.

Sometimes we grieve not for a person’s death, but for their disappearance from our lives while they’re still alive. I still believe that. But now, I also know that grief can evolve into something else. It can soften, change shape, and make room for new beginnings.

The father who used to write songs for his children, who was my confidant and my best friend; that man is still gone in some ways. But the man who heard me that day, who picked up the phone, is someone I’m learning to love in a different way. It’s not the relationship we once had, but it’s something. And I’ve realized that something is enough.

Writing this is difficult. I’ve hesitated to share this part of my life because airing family matters is uncomfortable. There’s always a fear of judgment, or of feeling like I’m betraying someone by speaking out. But this is my story, and as uncomfortable as it may be, I know that stories only truly affect those who see their own reflection in them. Some will relate to this and feel understood; others may not. But for me, writing this is a way of finding my own healing.

Grieving someone still alive is a unique and complicated sorrow. It’s not like grieving death, where there’s an endpoint, a place to find closure. It’s about living with a constant ache, accepting that the person you loved has changed in ways you can’t undo. But it’s also about realizing that loss doesn’t have to be the end. Sometimes, it can be a new beginning.

Turning 20 is a significant milestone, and I’ve always dreamed of living in NYC in my twenties, embracing the city life, and working in media, beauty, or fashion. I’m thrilled to be doing exactly that, interning at Estée Lauder. For my birthday on July 11th, my boyfriend came from Virginia to ensure it was a weekend trip I’d never forget, securing us a place in New Jersey so we could enjoy both New York and New Jersey. He planned an adventurous weekend filled with surprises, love, and excitement.

Waterways

We kicked off our trip by taking the ferry to explore the iconic New York City skyline, followed by a hopeful kayaking adventure on the Hudson River. Before coming to New York, I didn’t realize the state is made up of multiple islands, giving us countless opportunities to explore different towns, beaches, and waterfronts.

Art and Nature

About a year ago, I joined a fashion and tech group that hosts events in NYC. They recently held an event at the MET Museum, screening the new “Sleeping Beauties” fashion and tech exhibit. Unfortunately, the waitlist was over two hours long, so I couldn’t get in. Determined to see it, my boyfriend got us tickets to the MET. Even though we faced another waitlist, we managed to explore several other galleries before closing. Each exhibit sparked conversations, making us feel more connected and deepening our relationship, which was especially meaningful after months of long distance.

From the elegance of the MET, we moved to Central Park. The park was buzzing with summer energy, and the New York heat made for a hell of a stride.

Thrills and Excitement

No birthday is complete without a bit of thrill, and my boyfriend knew just where to take me. We spent the afternoon at an amusement park, one of my favorite places. We rode roller coasters, indulged in funnel cake (a childhood favorite), and I got to fly in the air (literally).

Shopping and Foodie Galore

Times Square was next, with its crowds, street performers, and dazzling advertisements. We visited the largest Forever 21 I’ve ever seen and the Disney Store. i left Times Square with a new dress and some jewelry ready to wear for back-to-college season.

Then we found Anita Gelato, just a five-minute walk from Times Square. The line was out the door, and for good reason. My boyfriend, a self-proclaimed gelato critic, was eager to try it. Inside, we were greeted by a luxurious ambiance and the best gelato I’ve ever had. I chose salted caramel while he opted for chocolate pistachio.

Another foodie highlight was Cellar 335, an underground restaurant in Jersey City. The cozy, eclectic ambiance and food made for a perfect evening. We savored our steak and soup and toasted to my birthday, making the first night of my birthday weekend one for the books.

With my family and some friends unable to visit, it made me realize the importance of cherishing the people who show you love, especially in ways that resonate deeply with you. Living in New York, it’s easy to take these experiences for granted. But my birthday reminded me to appreciate every moment and the people who make them special. Each adventure, from the waterfronts to the museums, was a reminder of how lucky I am to have someone who cares so much about making me happy.

To my readers and everyone who made my 20th birthday so unforgettable, thank you. Your love and effort are the greatest gifts I could ever ask for. Here’s to more fun, laughter, and love-filled adventures in the years to come!

*This post may contain affiliate links. If you click on these links and make a purchase, I may earn a small commission at no additional cost to you. This helps support Living By Bella and allows me to continue creating content for you. Thank you for your support!

I’ve taken breaks from Living By Bella, and while I dislike inconsistency, it’s what I’ve been giving you. After months of rest from this newsletter, I’m here with a renewed commitment.

Revival, Renewal, Revelation

These words capture the essence of how I feel whenever something new awakens in me: a passion, a love, a friendship, a loss, anything. My passion for Living By Bella has always remained true but has wavered at times. Recently, I watched an interview where the interviewee said, “I feel like a fraud because I haven’t reached as many people as I’m supposed to.” This perfectly summed up my feelings. Despite having over 2,000 subscribers, I feel that Living By Bella hasn’t reached its full potential. I turned my passion into a business and regretted it because, at its heart, this wasn’t a business; it was a form of self-expression and connection.

I am so thankful for every reader and supporter. I don’t want to make any false promises or announce another relaunch. I just want to be honest. I will always write and keep this website running. If I’m not writing an article, someone else will. I will continue this newsletter, or “mini-magazine,” because I receive so many awesome responses from you all, saying that it’s helpful, nice to read, or a pleasant weekly reminder. So, I want to apologize again and make sure you all know I’m here to stay, even if I’m not always at the forefront.

Career

This past year has been a whirlwind of growth and discovery. As an intern at Estée Lauder, I’ve been diving deep into the world of data science, a field I’ve grown increasingly passionate about. My role involves working on various tech projects that not only challenge my skills but also allow me to innovate. It’s a thrilling experience to be part of such a dynamic industry.

Living in New York has been a dream come true, filled with both challenges and triumphs. The decision to move here, live with a stranger, and chase my career goals was daunting, yet exhilarating. My days are a blend of work, networking, and exploring the city’s vibrant culture. Balancing my tech aspirations with my love for writing has been an ongoing journey. Changing my minor to journalism was a decision fueled by my enduring love for storytelling. I believe that we don’t have to limit ourselves to one path. Embracing all our passions can lead to a more fulfilling life. The future of work is multifaceted, and I’m excited to be at the forefront of this shift.

Social

The social aspect of my life has seen some of the most profound changes. Navigating the end of significant friendships and the loss of family members has been a period of intense emotional growth. These experiences have reshaped my approach to relationships. In New York, I’ve had the opportunity to meet new people and build a network that aligns with my values and aspirations.

My current relationship has been a source of joy and stability. My boyfriend’s visit for my birthday was a highlight, filled with memorable experiences that strengthened our bond. From enjoying the city’s culinary delights to exploring its cultural landmarks, we created wonderful memories together. This period has taught me the importance of aligning my social connections with my inner values. It’s a reminder that true connections come from a place of mutual respect and understanding.

Spiritual Life

Spiritually, I’ve embarked on a journey of deeper understanding and connection. My exploration of philosophy and my relationship with God have provided me with a sense of peace and clarity. Viewing God as the source of inner wisdom has transformed my approach to life’s challenges. This spiritual growth has been a cornerstone of my personal development, offering a foundation of strength and serenity. If you’re interested in learning more about my research, philosophy, or beliefs, email me here with the title “Article Recommendation.” I’m excited to hear your ideas!

Final Thoughts

Thank you for allowing me to share my journey with you. Your support means the world to me. I’m committed to maintaining the integrity and passion of Living By Bella, and I’m excited to continue this journey with all of you. I missed you, and I thank you.

Love, Bella

Recently, I confronted a challenge I hadn’t fully recognized before – the issue of vulnerability. A close friend shared with me his recent experiences in the realm of love, when he disclosed personal details to his new date. I cautioned him that his openness, honesty, and love might be misconstrued as a weakness, leaving his vulnerability to possibly be taken advantage of. To my surprise, he responded, “My vulnerability is my power. No one can take that from me, especially when it’s one of the greatest things I control.” His response took me aback and had me pondering; I had never considered vulnerability, even the act of oversharing both the positive and negative aspects of life, as a source of power.

I used to be exceptionally vulnerable, sharing openly to compensate for my fear of inadequacy: believing that people could only connect with me if they knew every detail about my life. However, I’ve recently become overly private, unintentionally cutting off communication and leaving friends and family unaware of my whereabouts. Reflecting on my friend’s dating experience, I recognized that vulnerability had previously granted me numerous friendships, connections, and empathy, both with familiar faces and strangers alike.

This letter serves as a reminder to be truthful with oneself and embrace vulnerability. Not driven by fear or scarcity, but by strength and love. You don’t have to disclose every detail of your life to be vulnerable; instead, express your genuine emotions to foster connections you might not have otherwise experienced. Let vulnerability be a source of strength and a catalyst for authentic connections.

Wishing you all courage and authenticity on your journey.

With love,

Bella

Sometimes we get so caught up change we lose awareness of what’s going on. We no longer become aware of our feelings, how our actions affect others, or what’s truly going on behind the scenes. We focus so much on the solution – “What am I going to do now that the meeting is cancelled? How am I going to get to work if my car won’t start?” – that sometimes we forget to provide care for ourselves in the moments in between. Instead we judge ourselves, telling ourselves that we shouldn’t be upset, or that this is just a part of life – a way to ignore our emotions and behave like it’s unnatural to have them.

Personally, I’ve experienced various changes this past week, and got so caught up in the situations, the consequences, and how to fix the problem, that I lacked the awareness to conceptualize that maybe all of these changes are linked.

Maybe there’s a reason I’ve been put in more out-of-my-comfort-zone situations lately. I’ve had to put in more volunteer and club hours than time on my personal hobbies or goals. I’ve also gotten my hours at work cut in half, giving me more days out of the week to be free than I’d like – but maybe both changes are a signal to me to focus on other aspects of my life.

We all know change doesn’t feel good. We’re told over and over again it’s supposed to bring you new knowledge and that all change is good in the end. But the truth is, change is a process. It’s a definite part of our universal system. Take out the words “good” and “bad”, and now you just have a part of life – change – that you don’t have to conceptualize or judge. You don’t have to see it as positive or negative, you just see it as what it is.

So although I just stated that maybe these new personal, mental, and even physical changes are happening to me, all in the quick span of a week, for some unbeknownst reason, maybe there’s truly no reason at all. Maybe this is just a part of the universal system, a system of ups, downs, and turnarounds.

So I encourage you, when you’re undergoing a series of changes (even small ones), to become aware. Are they all happening in a certain time frame? Do they all have a common denominator? Are they all school related? Health related? Or, maybe you’ll have a week like me, where your job, career goals, social life, financial security, and everything in between, changes and shifts seemingly out of nowhere.

But it’s not a bad thing, nor is it necessarily a good thing. It’s all a part of a larger cycle. So please, please, find the joy in the next week’s small daily activities. Try something new. Do something you love. And most importantly, take care of yourself in this new season of changes.

Love, Bella

Conflict is a powerful mirror that reflects our inner selves. Within the midst of disagreements and clashes lies an opportunity for self-discovery.

Finding Our Triggers

When faced with opposition, we feel angry and defensive: These emotional reactions serve as signposts, directing us toward areas that require further exploration. By understanding the root of these reactions, we gain insight into unresolved issues and unexamined beliefs, and we usually find things that have subconsciously upset us over time.

Our Communication Patterns

Our communication tendencies become apparent during conflict. Are we quick to defend ourselves? Do we avoid confrontation altogether? Conflict shines a light on our communication strengths and weaknesses, helping us understand how we treat those with different beliefs and how we listen.

Realizing Assumptions and Biases

Conflict often arises from differing viewpoints and assumptions. Exploring these discrepancies encourages us to confront our biases and preconceptions. By questioning the origin of our beliefs and considering alternative perspectives, we become more open-minded and able to engage in constructive dialogue.

Our Big Ego

Conflict can act as a mirror reflecting our ego’s role in interactions. Are we driven by a need to be right? Do we resist compromise to protect our self-image? Do we feel prideful, or that our opinions and beliefs should top others just because? Recognizing these ego-driven tendencies allows us to choose whether we want to be led by our ego or respond with humility and understanding.

Testing Our Emotional Intelligence

Emotions are central to conflict, making it a prime arena to develop emotional intelligence. By recognizing and managing our emotions amidst disagreements, we enhance our ability to empathize with others, regulate our own reactions, and navigate emotionally charged situations.

Embracing conflict as a teacher offers a unique perspective on personal growth. By acknowledging conflict’s potential to illuminate our emotions, communication patterns, biases, and ego-driven responses, we embark on a transformative journey of self-discovery. As we navigate the landscape of our inner world through the lens of conflict, we cultivate resilience, compassion, and self-awareness. 

Remember this next time you have an argument or need to resolve a conflict. And since you’re friend is someone you care for and vice versa, take note of what is or has been bothering you, explain how it makes you feel, and politely offer a solution. It’s important to confront these things quickly and clearly, or else you’ll have a blowout from built up tension – and hopefully it doesn’t happen at a party either.

Our Ancestors

Picture our ancient ancestors roaming the wild. Survival was the name of the game, and wanting more was a survival strategy. It was hardwired into their minds to gather as much as they could – food, shelter, and other resources – to weather the unpredictable storms of life. Fast forward to today, and this ancient urge still lingers, whispering that more is better.

Keeping Up With the Kardashians

Social media, flashy ads, and even those reality TV shows that promise a glimpse into the ‘good life’ have a way of convincing us that we need more to be happy. One of the most popular shows of our time is a prime example for the constant need for more. The culture around us sends a constant message: if you’re not striving for more, you’re missing out.

FOMO: Fear of Missing Out

Everyone seems to be on some fabulous adventure, dining at the coolest places, or getting promotions left and right. Suddenly, your own life feels a little less exciting. The fear of missing out nudges you to join the race for more – more experiences, more likes, more everything.

So What Do I Do Now?

While wanting to grow and achieve is fantastic, it’s essential to find your rhythm between ambition and contentment. It’s like savoring a delicious meal – you enjoy every bite, but you’re not in a rush to finish it all at once. Practicing mindfulness and gratitude can help you hit the brakes on the ‘more’ train and appreciate the ‘now’ a little more. So, there you have it – the tale of the insatiable human spirit. We’re wired to want more, and there’s no need to fight it tooth and nail. It’s about striking a balance between embracing your inner explorer and finding joy in the little things you’ve already got. Maybe, just maybe, the secret to satisfaction isn’t always about piling up the ‘more’ but discovering the ‘enough’ that’s been right here, waiting to be noticed.