HAILEYANELA

If I were to swear on the Bible facing an audience of unfamiliar witnesses, I would attest to my character flaw of interpersonal expectations. My fanciful mind is utterly incapable of retaining lessons learned. It’s as if a wave of amnesia has swept away the memories of disappointment and disillusionment and left an empty canvas; ready to be repainted with a lesson that just refuses to adhere. I have a knack of throwing out chances to the undeserving; the ones that I know are sure to let me down. I can’t help it really. I am a deluded optimist at heart; earnestly wishing for change and improvement when I know none will come. I’m the kid with their fingers crossed, brow furrowed, and lip bitten; anxiously awaiting for things to go “my way”. My expectations aren’t grand in the slightest. They are usually centered on the forethought, or lack thereof, from others. Things that I assume to be common sense appear to have translated into intellect that far surpasses human courte...

c/o:  Sabrina Kellerman Photography I’m guilty of painting pretty pictures. Pictures of how I want my life to be viewed. I want crisp edges and smooth lines, not a defect in sight. A clear and in-focus image that everyone can praise, and my mother can be proud of. A picture that can garner Facebook “likes” and Twitter “retweets”; an image that attains the coveted “Life Goals” hash tag. Because who doesn’t want a life that can be applauded and placed front-and-center on the mantel of self-esteem? As a side effect of this deceptive exhibit of life, is the mass of people that assume they know exactly how you feel simply based off the carefully edited Instagram post. They surmise that the smile means happiness and contentment, and the success equals satisfaction and self-fulfillment. They believe the best, because the best is all that they can see. They view the performance from the front row, completely oblivious to the stress backstage behind the curtain. My frustration ...

There is strength in everything. Every action, thought, and word holds a well of power that is weightier than we can comprehend.   A naked word is nothing but a string of letters; but words stitched together with intent and purpose hold potential. They hold the potential to lift heavy hearts, to fortify crumbling character, to furnish the flame of faith, and possess the potential to empower beyond belief. We have the capacity to lead others towards a life of light, and knowledge of the value of their existence. We are literally capable of changing lives for the better.   And yet, the words may be turned in on themselves, maliciously shredded to the bone and cruelly corrupted. The brutal punch a foul phrase packs leaves a deeper impression than that of an empathetic expression. They’ve been used to dissect with disgust, criticize in contempt, to tease and taunt, and to brazenly beat down. Shamelessly and without thought they are dirtied for the sake of “speaking t...

Unbeknownst to myself, time has once again gotten the best of me. This semester has 2 meager weeks left to live, in which I'm to pack up & move apartments, ace my finals, bid adieu to my sweet Canadian, and GRADUATE (it's only my associates, but still...). what the heck. Somehow I've turned into this partial adult with responsibility who has to start planning for the future. Like can't I just be that 8 year old hailey with the Hit Clips and Britney Spears diary without a clue in the world? That'd be nice and easy.....but not exciting. And we all know how much I live for excitement and adventure.  I've dubbed my 20th summer as my summer of traveling, experience, intrigue, adventure, thrill seeking journeys, sunshine, and fun and festivities. My hellish "summer of '14" was the worst I've yet to endure and I fully plan on rectifying the season. I'll be in school and working for a good part of the warm months, ...

*please note that this was written for my english class, where our professor wanted us to take an emotion and make it tangible and realistic for our audience. I embraced the challenge of the poem, and wrote what I believe to be an equivalent of depression. do not be alarmed, this isn't based off personal experience* The cover of night and the shadows envelope me. Physically and emotionally I belong locked in a closet, which was exactly where I sat. The hospitable darkness and gloom didn't object my arrival one bit.   I wanted to cling to the shadows; I was trying to embrace a passionate emotion, but was it the wrong one? My hands were preoccupied anyways.   A dull set of crafting scissors in one shaking hand. The other fisted up tight, tight enough to feel my nails biting my palm. The pain of an edgeless blade is not crisp and clear; it’s thick with jagged edges. Any attempt at not crying was pointless and futile. I didn't cry for the smooth under...

When I thought of forever I pictured bliss. Sure I know bliss is more of a feeling and not so much a scene but I just imagined bliss. Lots of smiling. The kind where your eyes crinkle in the corners and you put all your little white teeth on display. Lots of morning kisses, sunshine through the trees, fingers interlocked so tight that a whisper of air wouldn’t be able to pass between the pressed palms, forehead kisses that make you swoon and your eyes droop in pleasure, dancing in socks in the cold glow of the refrigerator light. I imagined secret looks and shared smiles across the table, slow and sleepy morning murmurs, late night pillow talks and goodnights instead of goodbyes. Borrowed button ups but never borrowed time, because you both knew exactly how each other felt. Unfortunately the bliss I was looking for, wasn't looking for me. There were late nights of aloneness and deprivation. Locked in bathrooms crying in the tub with the lights off wishing I hadn't given ...

Love is a tricky thing. It can make you feel like you’re on the top   of the world; soaring far above the clouds free of any concerns and  worries. It feels infinite, as if there is no ending and there was  no beginning, just a limitless existence. Some say that if the  timing isn’t exactly perfect, then that little infinity can’t even  be birthed into existence. But our little sliver of time was  seamlessly aligned with the stars. We grabbed the moment and ran  with it, unafraid of the consequences. Those short months were full  of an immense amount of love, laughter and tears. I felt everything  stronger and more powerfully than I ever had before. He taught me  how to love again even if the affection wasn’t mirrored. So thank  you for being my best heartbreak.

A week ago I made the decision to go speak to my bishop concerning the confusion and frustration that I had been feeling for the past week or so. I explained to him that I had felt the need to  come up here to Provo, for some reason unknown to myself, but now I was doubting my decision to move away for the summer. I had many unrealistic expectations that weren't met, so I was frustrated with my situation to say the least. With all this unnecessary pressure building up we decided that I needed to axe a few things in my life. First on my "purge" list was social media. I would like to freely admit that I spend WAY too much time on my phone, bouncing between Facebook, Twitter, and Tumblr, there were so many things I could be doing with that wasted time. So with the determination to relieve myself of inessential burdens, I deleted all three apps from my phone. Okay, so I know I probably should have completely deactivated my accounts, but I wanted to see if I could manage to...