Author: Lauren Reed

While I’m rarely one to promote sitting in your car and sulking after a long day of work, school, or just a downright bad day, sometimes all a person needs is a good cry. 

Maybe nothing hurts at all. Maybe you just need to feel something. Maybe you just feel like crying and don’t even know why. Maybe you just feel like crying because you can.

Nothing beats a good cry, like a good cry with a good soundtrack. 

Below is just a tiny collection of some good cry-to songs and videos in no specific order.  

Listen. Watch. Cry. Repeat if needed.

Spoiler Alert: some of the videos are REALLY sad. 

Brad Paisley and Alison Krauss- Whiskey Lullaby 

“He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger,
And finally drank away her memory.
Life is short but this time it was bigger
Than the strength he had to get up off his knees.”

Maria Mena- Miss You Love

“Your t-shirt lost its smell of you,
and the bathroom’s still a mess.
Remind me why we decided this was for the best…”

Christina Aguilera- You Lost Me

“I feel like our world’s been infected,
And somehow you left me neglected,
We’ve found our lives been changed.
Babe, you lost me.”

Pink- Family Portrait

“In our family portrait we look pretty happy.
We look pretty normal, let’s go back to that.
In our family portrait we look pretty happy.
Let’s play pretend, act like it goes naturally.”

Mandy Moore- When I Talk To You

“When I talk to you
I want you to know everything that I am
Don’t want to know what life would be without you.”

A Fine Frenzy- Almost Lover

“So long, my luckless romance
My back is turned on you
Should’ve known you’d bring me heartache
Almost lovers always do.”

Molly – Lil Dicky feat. Brendon Urie

“If I woke up and I called it quits (’cause I’m thinking of you)
If today I gave up all of this (I don’t know what to do)
Maybe I could get you back tomorrow
And that’s the hardest pill to swallow, baby.”

A Great Big World and Christina Aguilera- Say Something

“Say something, I’m giving up on you.
I’m sorry that I couldn’t get to you.
Anywhere, I would’ve followed you.
Say something, I’m giving up on you.”

Katherine McPhee- Say Goodbye 

“I just want to hold you ‘til you know I’m sorry 
But I just keep it all inside 
That way it won’t hurt so much 
When we say goodbye.”

 Alanis Morissette- Your House

“Forgive me love
If I cry in your shower
So forgive me love
For the salt in your bed
So forgive me love
If I cry all afternoon.”

At around the age of one, my sister pushed me into a corner and I gained a nice, large bump on the head. From what I hear, this injury was followed by a trip to the hospital. I was fine, but I should’ve known then that being the second born was not going to be easy.

At eight years old I broke my wrist roller-blading down a hill that was much too big for my uncoordinated, disproportionate, self. I wanted, and needed to prove to my siblings that I could, and would cruise down that driveway like a champ. Needless to say, I may not have cruised like a champ, but I certainly fell like one.

At ten years old, I learned first-hand, what the “No More Monkeys Jumping On The Bed” song was truly all about. I may have not mastered the art of jumping, but at that point in life, I mastered the art of sucking it up. For a child that once cried at the sound of a raised voice, not a single tear fell from my eyes when my head hit the ground. I heard a crack, wondered why I couldn’t move my neck, and I shook it off. (As much as my stiff neck would allow, of course!)

At twelve years old, I became the only child of four to get a cavity. Not only did I have to endure that awkward numb face experience after a cavity has been filled, but this all occurred on the most important day of every year, MY BIRTHDAY! And, of course, I was forced to listen to my parents conduct a lecture on the amount of sugar I must be consuming and the importance of floss. My siblings didn’t floss, why should I? 

Honestly, I could go on and on about the many things that happened to me as a child that were (kind of) out of my control. While injuries and such happen to all children, no matter their hierarchy in the family tree, it’s different when you’re the second born of four. Things happen, and your parents either shake their heads because the event could’ve been avoided, or worse has happened to your siblings.

In my case, it was usually the latter.

I was lucky and am lucky for the love I’ve been given from my parents and all three of my siblings. But, truth be told, it has taken much growing up in order to truly feel, one hundred percent, blessed for what I have. This isn’t because so many terrible things have happened within my dysfunctional family, but because I was a middle child. And, that’s a good enough excuse for attention craving, as any.

Similar to most families, by the time three of my four siblings became teenagers, many life-changing events occurred. 

Our parents split up, my sister’s health spiraled out of control, my barely younger brother’s young self had demons of his own to face, and my youngest brother was simply just a child trying to understand things we never had to deal with at his age. To say the entire family was experiencing a whirlwind of emotions is an understatement.

Me? I was always just there.

I was a little sister.

I was a big sister.

I wanted to be so much more.

I cared about the many things that were rocking my family’s world, yet found myself so wrapped up in questioning why nobody asked how I felt about things.

I saw tears, shaved heads, missing cars, and even a door taken off it’s notch. Yet, at the end of those memorable (unfortunately) days, I felt guilty for thinking about myself, at all. Eventually, doing something for just me seemed like a far away thought, an unacceptable thought. 

I didn’t need help, or support, or anybody to ever worry about me because according to dysfunctional family dynamics, I was normal. So, why worry about the second born? 

She’s resilient. She’s fine.

I had become resilient. I was fine.

It’s amazing the many things you realize once you move out of the home you grew up in. At 18 years old, I had held one job that paid minimum wage, which was obviously not enough to get me out of my hometown.

I may not have been outwardly “worried” about, but I was appreciated and loved enough to be blessed with the support (and money- thanks Mom, you rock!) to get out of my hometown to attend college, without any kind of scholarship (hello student loans!).

This left me with one terribly daunting question:

What kind of child, wishes worry upon their parents?

A middle child.

As a middle child, you hear things. You keep secrets for the sake of being a part of something. You “accidentally” trip and fall, only to remember that your resilience has already been noticed, so don’t bother. You stay up all night to let your older sister sneak back in, but when you’re older and ask the same favor, it’s not encouraged.

You do anything and everything to seek acceptance from your siblings. That’s all you ever wanted.

It’s funny, because it’s all you’ve ever had.

But, FUCK (sorry, mom)

YOU’RE SO LUCKY!

I’m a big sister, and a little sister. And, how many people really get to say that?

Shut up, Middle Child.

You are noticed.

You are loved.

You are awesome.

And, those crazy siblings of yours aren’t too terrible, either.

Having recently reached a quarter of my life, I have to admit, I’m nowhere near where I thought I’d be at 25. I thought I’d be taller. I thought I’d be wiser. I thought I’d be a few years into my career. I thought I’d know, one hundred percent, what I’d be doing with my life.

That’s the thing about the future. You never know where you’ll end up.

But, no matter where you want to go or don’t want to go, every single trip is an experience. Whether such lessons be good, terrible, or a bit of both, to say I’ve learned a lot in my 25 years is the understatement of the century.

I could probably go on for pages and pages about where I’ve gone, who I’ve been, or even who I pretended to be. For the sake of my sanity (and yours), here are only 26 (one for good luck, of course) lessons I’ve learned in my 25 years of life…

1. If it hurts, let it. There are many ways to mask pain. Drink. Eat. Sleep. Serial Date. Escapism isn’t the answer. Plus, if it hurts, imagine how great it will feel when that hurt ends. Trust me when I say, it will end.

2. Have faith in something. Whether it be religion, love, or chocolate. If you have nothing to believe in, what do you have?

3. Be the kind of person who says yes, when appropriate of course.

4. Know how (and when) to say no. If you don’t want to do it, don’t. If you know you shouldn’t do it, definitely don’t.

5. Make your significant other breakfast. There’s a likely chance you will continually fail at making pancakes and your bacon may not have the perfect amount of crisp, but the effort counts. It really does.

6. Go on the most epic date of all time with the most epic person of all time: YOU.

7. Cry. Better yet, allow the person who made you cry, see you cry. It won’t be easy, but to be vulnerable in front of another is rare. To be vulnerable in front of another is special. Even if it’s the first and last time, it’s something, it really is.

8. Admit that you care, but don’t pretend you do, if you don’t.

9. Be honest. I can’t say this enough, but just do it.

10. If he looks you in the eye and says he no longer loves you, believe him. He won’t change his mind.

11. Follow that gut feeling. If it doesn’t feel right, it likely isn’t. Nobody knows you, more than you.

12. Love your curves, but don’t neglect your health. Some people really are just annoyingly skinny. Those people are lucky. As for the rest of us, walk, bike, dance. Do something, anything, to get that heart rate up.

13. If there’s music playing, dance. Actually, even if there’s no music playing, dance. Dance wherever, whenever, always.

14. Listen to your mom. She will tell you things you don’t want, but need to hear. She will say out loud what you already know, but pretend you don’t. Listen. I promise you, she knows. She’s been there.

15. Be a good friend. While it seems like an easy task, the older you get, the harder maintaining friendships becomes. Make an effort. If that effort does little, let him or her go. People grow apart.

16. Don’t build walls. We all do it. Nobody enjoys being vulnerable, but people will only try so hard to knock those walls down, and if you don’t let them, they will stop trying. An empty room with nothing but walls is a very lonely place.

17. Pick up the phone when an old friend or family member calls. Better yet, make the call yourself! It’s easy to shoot a text, email, or Facebook message these days, but hearing a loved one’s voice on the other line is so much better.

18. Say “I love you?? over and over again. Say it and mean it. Say it so the receiving end knows you mean it. Don’t be afraid to say it. The worst thing that could happen is unrequited love, but then, at least you know.

19. Cuddle. Whether it’s with a dog, a pillow, or an actual human being, sometimes it’s nice to have something to hold onto. Sometimes, if you choose the latter, it’s nice to have someone hold onto you.

20. Get educated. If college isn’t for you, great, but there are so many other ways to learn. Take a free class, read a book, watch the news. Listen. You can learn so much about the world around you by simply listening.

21. Go to the movies alone. Trust me on this one, it feels so good to have no distractions.

22. Date lots of different people, like actually date. If the offer comes past 9:00pm, it’s likely not a date. Go to dinner. See a movie. Walk around the bay. Actually do something with someone else. You won’t like everyone. In fact, there’s a chance you won’t like anyone. But, you never know.

23. Take a break from dating, but don’t pass up a good thing just because you’re being stubborn. It’s important to give yourself time to regroup and be independent, but don’t do so just to prove to yourself you can. Do so because it’s in your best interest. You shouldn’t have to prove yourself to yourself.

24. If you’re unsure, don’t take the road less travelled. While I urge all to try something new, sometimes it’s okay to stick to what you know. Sometimes, you should stick to what you know.

25. Be yourself, one hundred percent of the time. Many won’t like it, but many will. Many won’t just like it, they will love it. Those are the people who deserve to be around you. Choose your people wisely.

26. Ask questions, lots of them. It’s okay to not know, but it’s no fun to keep wondering. Don’t know something? Ask. Lost and need some help? Ask. Don’t wait for the answers to come to you, find them.

You can learn a lot in 25 years, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that I still have so much to learn. I may actually, officially, qualify as an adult at this point in my life and while it’s hard to recognize I’m not where I thought I’d be, I’m learning to keep learning. 

I’m learning to be happy. I’m learning to be nothing more and nothing less than me.

Who am I? Beats me.

What am I? AWESOME.

Similar to many 20-something-year-olds, I have created and maintained quite the relationship with alcohol. My drink of choice? Red wine. Lots and lots of red wine. I’m actually, drinking some as I write. I mean, what better way to do it? 

In honor of just being downright awesome, I have decided to drink a glass, or two. By glass, I may mean bottle, but does that even really matter? 

When I drink, I think. 

Sometimes I think odd things. Sometimes I think sad things. Sometimes I think things that are so funny I literally Laugh Out Loud. I rarely ensure others know I’m “LOL?" but it still counts, right?

In honor of my delicious $6 dollar bottle of Cab from Trader Joe’s, I’d like to present to you some of the things I think, when I drink:

I should probably Snap Chat a picture of my huge glass of wine so everybody knows what a heavy hand I have. 

Shoot, maybe I shouldn’t, I’ve done that too many times. People might think I drink too much.

Do I drink too much?

I worked all day, I deserve it!

UGH! I work tomorrow. At least I still have three more hours before I have to sleep.

Is my alarm set? 

Seriously, how do I keep setting my alarm to PM?! 

It’s always AM, you dummy. Get it together.

I wonder if there are any sad movies on Netflix I haven’t watched.

How has The Notebook still never made it to Netflix? This is not okay. 

Whispers to self, “If I’m a bird, you’re a bird."

Ugh. Fuck you, Netflix.

I should probably FaceTime my boyfriend so he can see how big my glass of wine is.

He’s not impressed. 

My mom’s going to be really disappointed with how far from literature this piece is. She probably won’t like that it’s about drinking, either. 

Sorry, Mom! I love you!

I, no joke, thought this would be a really good idea.

Suddenly all the things I think that I think when I drink… are likely not funny at all to other people. 

Those other people suck.

Or, do I?

…

…

…

Nope.

Still awesome!

As a twenty-something-year-old young woman, I spend much of my time gawking at myself in the mirror. 

I see more than one chin, arms that jiggle, and a stomach that rolls when I sit. I want to tell you I appreciate my green eyes and that I love these boobs my flat-chested friends would die for, but I don’t. My thighs touch when I walk and I can barely fit one leg in a size zero. 

These insecurities started at a young age for me as well as many people I have surrounded myself with throughout the years, and I’m sure they will continue to haunt us throughout our womanhood. 

But, despite what I see in the mirror, I know what’s really behind all that “fat." If your ribs stick out you’re too skinny, but if your ass jiggles you’re too fat. I just want to scream at the top of my lungs:

WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM US WORLD?!? 

There’s a sad, but real truth behind these commonly shared insecurities. I am so much more blessed than many. I’m not the first girl to struggle with body image and I can assure you I won’t be the last. 

I may view my naked body and cringe, but I’m quick to believe that donut was well worth it. Sometimes I overindulge and feel guilty, and sometimes (most times) I do not. 

I want to speak for those girls who can’t enjoy a donut, for those who calorie count. I want to speak for those who eat that donut, but never once welcome it into their stick thin bodies. I want to speak for these girls, but I can’t. 

I want to tell these girls how beautiful they are, how much they deserve to feel it, to really believe it.

I do not hold back when admitting my flaws because I know they exist, but, like most girls, often find myself wishing them away. 

I often find myself eyeing the girl beside me. Comparison is the route to all unhappiness, yet nothing is a more difficult struggle than to hop on that train to self discovery, look at the girl in the mirror, and say the most terrifying and fulfilling words of all time:

I FUCKING LOVE YOU!

I was falling in love, while my family was falling apart. 

I was fifteen when Mom sat us down and told us some things were going to change. She and Dad decided to “separate" in order to “figure some things out." My siblings and I were young, but we weren’t stupid. We knew temporary separation rarely remained temporary. What should have come as a surprise didn’t shock me in the least bit.

I grew up in a perfectly happy home and although I carried around what I like to call the middle-child blues, I never once felt unloved. 

I saw love all around me. I saw it in my father’s eyes, felt it in my mother’s touch, and I swear I saw that spark everyone’s always talking about when my parents kissed. And they did kiss, a lot. 

At the time those kisses made me cringe, I mean what’s more disgusting than watching your parents make out? But, those kisses served as a constant reminder of how lucky I was to live in a two-parent household. 

I was lucky to be surrounded by so much happiness, by so much love.

When I try to think back to a time they weren’t happy, I picture myself. I picture my brothers, and I picture my sister. We were growing up and it’s as if we refused to notice all the change my mom promised was to come, had already happened.

I would love to say that witnessing a twenty-year marriage end, destroyed my entire world, but it didn’t. I want to tell you that I stopped believing love existed and that it was impossible for me to open up to the opposite sex, but that’s not true. It was the same year my parents fell out of love that I fell in love for the very first time.

I didn’t bother to cry to my friends or waste energy hating one parent or the other. I didn’t fear I would repeat my parent’s mistakes, and not once did I question whether I was loved or even blame myself for the act of them falling out of love. 

I let myself fall despite the proof that even the best of loves end.

I let myself fall in love, and as most teenagers do, I ultimately fell out just as quickly. I remember feeling pain but have no recollection of what that pain actually felt like. Like most great first loves, it was great one day, until it wasn’t. 

My first heartbreak shook my world, but I didn’t blame my own ending on my parent’s divorce. 

I didn’t blame my new-found lack of trust on being a child of divorce and I can promise you I never, ever blamed my inability to let go on the D word. The fact of the matter is, I am a child of divorce.

I was fifteen years old when the world tried to break me, but guess what world? I am a child of divorce, and I don’t care. 

I’m a child of divorce, and I still believe in love. Bad things still happen, but I still have faith love overcomes all. I have a mother and I have a father. They may have failed in loving each other, but they have beyond succeeded in loving me.

Guess what world?

I’m a child of divorce, and I’m turning out just fine.

We never actually knew each other, but I knew who she was. She was (is) pretty. Maybe (at some point), she was kind. Maybe (at some point), she seemed special. I don’t know her, but I’d like to. I’d like to scream at her. I’d like to maybe even push her just enough to not hurt, but jolt her a bit. I’d like to hate her. I don’t even know her, but I’d like to.

I’ve recently been fallen out of love with. Despite my ability to accept what I cannot change, it’s been a difficult truth to accept. Could I have done something different to change his mind? Did I fail to love him the way he wanted, or the way he deserved? Maybe I said too much, without saying anything at all. Maybe, just maybe, I could never be her.

We spoke little of the girl who broke him. Despite the years that had passed, something still lingered. Something still hurt and I suppose I wasn’t enough to take that hurt away. Maybe I wasn’t her in the best ways possible. Maybe he knew I would never stray. Maybe he knew I loved him too much. Maybe, just maybe, it was too much too soon. I don’t know.

Truth be told, there is very little of me that actually wishes to be her. She lost him too. 

I recently found a series of letters written to her. The letters were never given, but date back to his college days, when the two young loves attempted (and failed) at the dreaded long distance thing. The letters were filled with innocence, love, and complete adoration. The letters were words of the future he had hoped to one day spend with her.

I wanted to be mature after my snooping led me right where I hoped it wouldn’t. I want to say I understand because I was young and in love with another once too.  I want to shake it off because that was then and this is now, but I can’t. 

Where are my letters?

He loved her then, and he doesn’t love me now.