7 Lessons I Learned in 2014

We convince ourselves of absolute truths all the time.

We say, I will always do this; I will never do that; I would behave differently as a mother/boss/bride/ when my turn comes along. And yet, we really don't know anything until faced with the circumstance.

2014 was a mind-trip. Everything I thought I knew about myself, my career and my relationships sucker punched me in the face. I watched my identity blur. I received a smack down in relinquishing control. I became an expert in adaptation. Change or be changed, became my theme.

Below are seven lessons I learned this year:

1. I am not just my job - The first question people ask when they meet someone is, "What do you do?" It is a defining question, and something I struggled a lot with in the latter half of 2014. For almost four years, I worked in an agency, in public relations, and then one day, I didn't. Before this year, I also didn't like to identify myself as a writer, because in my mind, I wasn't a real one yet. But with time, I started to find my identity beyond self-consciously answering a question at a dinner party. And guess what? I was still the same person.

2. Count the small things - This year, I got published in a print magazine, became a freelancer, gained my first real client, and started putting myself out there more as a writer. My family also welcomed two new little members, Kate and Lorenzo. While these wins may seem small on someone else's scale, they became the biggest gratitudes of my year.

3. Sea salt is medicine - Travel is never frivolous. I credit my summer trip to Greece for bringing me back to life. I hung out under cliffs. I wrote in notebooks again. And I remember floating on my back in the middle of the Ionian sea and thinking, I am the luckiest girl in the world. 

4. Scout's Honour - This year, I had to face up to some truths. Was I really upset, or was my ego taking a hit? Am I acting like a victim, or should I change my outlook? Am I saying no because of my pride, or my heart? This year I chose to tackle the questions, instead of my usual reaction of lacing up my sneakers, and running in the opposite direction. I messed up a lot along the way, but I learned more than I lost.

5. What yellow brick road? I became a time traveller in 2014. The moment I thought a door was shut, or a road had a dead-end, I found myself turning around and walking back. I created fresh starts from old paths (which makes zero sense) but for some reason, it worked.

6. Finish something - I've been talking about the process of writing a first draft of my young adult novel for an entire year. This November, I finally finished it. While the first attempt was a disaster, (re: plot holes, character flaws and spelling mistakes) it had a beginning, middle and an end. And now I'm officially on draft two!

7. I wouldn't be caught dead wearing a pink coat - I don't wear pink. I don't buy pink. I don't even like pink lipstick. And yet, two weeks ago I was in Zara and I just had to have this pink faux fur coat. (See photo above) It has become my cotton-candy accessory during the greyest of winters. And I'm still breathing.

So here's to 2015 - a new year, a new outlook and a fresh start! x 

The List

While I can list the reasons why I haven't blogged in awhile (it's a busy time of year, the holidays can be overwhelming, I haven't been too inspired...) I decided to create a different kind of list. A little something to cap off what seems like the longest month of the year.

Here's a Not A Model To-Do: 

1. Call your grandmother. If you are lucky enough to still have one, call her. Chat with her. Tell her about your life. She will appreciate it. I called my grandmother the other day for a 10 minute conversation and at the end of it, she said, thank you. 

2. Do something kind. Do something for someone else that leaves you a bit vulnerable. Someone is having a bad day? Grab them a treat at the bakery or tell someone you like their outfit who you otherwise wouldn't speak to. Put yourself out on a kindness limb, and then watch as they react in a positive way, leaving you wondering why you don't reach out more often.

3. Treat yourself. This time of year can bring on the stress of making sure other people have everything they need, or want. Don't forget to treat yourself to something small as a reminder that you should always put yourself somewhere on that long list of people you care about. 

4. Take a news break. While the 24/7 news cycle never stops, I find that sometimes it's best to log-off, shut down and form your own opinions without an audience. Sometimes a tragedy can turn into a tabloid-like sensation and it's hard not to click on every advance, or read the angry person's political opinion on your social media feed. Turn it off. Think about the loss. Go and hug your family and friends instead. Say a prayer (if that is your thing). Don't add to the negative noise.

5. Reflect. Before the big change of year arrives, now is a good time to reflect on anything that has passed. How have you behaved? Do you crave change? It's time to take a step back, without always trying to improve (I need to get thinner, or get a promotion) and think about the character that you want for the coming year. 

x

The Shift Debate

I said, "I don't like any kind of change."

My parents chuckled in my face and told me that people who don't like change don't move away. Ever. And I like leaving. Yet, I stew over nostalgia. I crave looking back. I relish in remembering. Thinking about the small distinctions of a person, then and now. Me, 2.0. 2.1. The newer version. The broken version. The confident version. The scared version.

I get weary over the thought about starting again. I get so excited over the idea of change that I paralyze the move. The fear contracts inside my arms, hands, legs and feet, like ivy that crawls up and adheres and tries to become permanent. Permanence. I don't have much of that. I don't understand it. I do see it on the faintest line on my forehead. I ask, "When are you going away? I'd like you to change please."

Before I make a leap, I calculate the amount of nicks I may get from a fall. After it seems that I always forget to count the blows because I'm usually wiping something brilliant off my face.

It's always just the before.

Not A Model asks: How do you deal well with change?

If You Believe...

This morning my mom told me: "If you believe you will have a good day, you will."

While I don't quite like pep talks, or rather talking at all, early in the morning, I thought about what she said on my drive in to the city. I thought about the sweet long weekend that I had with my family.

With the new baby-blue eyed girl who's getting squishier by the minute and her bubbly brother Little, who may not be able to hold that nickname for too much longer. The way my grandmother, who seems to be getting older with each holiday, still manages to bring over spaghetti she made with her hands. How my cousins and I watch the same home movies and laugh at the exact same parts each time. The sound of my parents' silly arguments over each side dish before the guests arrive. The abundance of traditions, like how we must eat seven pies and go for a stroll after lunch. How if the cherry red walls in my aunt's dining room could talk, they would have nothing to share but photo book memories.

I thought about how when life is good, we don't seem to understand how good it actually was until someone is missing at the family dinner table the next year. Even my commute this morning wasn't so terrible.

Because the sky was spilling pink lemonade out of its pores, and my mother is always right.

Beginners, New Look - New Mantra

Notice anything different?

Look up.

I did a little revamping of the Not A Model logo. While that photo with the kitchen gloves and crooked heart has been a staple on this blog for awhile, it doesn't quite feel like me anymore. Granted, that photo was taken about five years ago, (and I haven't worn fuchsia pink washing gloves since) so it makes sense to want something that is a better representation of the person behind this blog.

The new logo was simply created by using the same handwriting that I use to scrawl in my notebooks daily. It's a scribble, a simple design, nothing fancy or too perfect - just like Not A Model's personality in general.

The other night I watched a movie with one of my best friends called Beginners. I won't give away too much, but basically it's about starting over, no matter what your age or stage is in life. (The father-figure in the film starts over at 75 years old). It's about trying a new direction and really, in life, if we embrace it, we're all beginners at something.

Lately, I find myself in a bit of a emotional slump for a better choice of a word, but I have decided that it's never too late to start fresh again - like with a new logo, a new look or a new dream plan, for example.

This week's Not A Model mantra is as follows:

"You can learn new things at any time in your life if you're willing to be a beginner. If you actually learn to like being a beginner, the whole world opens up to you." -Barbara Sher

Lastly, you also may notice the lack of a contributor tab up top as well. While I loved each and every post from my lovely female writing army, it wasn't quite working at the moment and it seemed for the best to close it right now. A lot of the girls have their own projects and adventures going on, so I encourage you to keep up with them! I may bring back the contributor program in the future, but for now, you can still read all about the favourites in the Not A Model archives. xx

Are you flat?

If anyone ever asked me to drink a glass of sparking water a few months ago, I would have spit a mouthful of fizzy liquid in their face.

While that is a large exaggeration, it was an indisputable truth that I didn't enjoy the stuff very much.

Lately, I feel that small changes in my tastes, interests and views surprise me. There are things that I never thought I would like or want to do and yet I find them flooding my mind with new possibilities. It makes me wonder about all of the things that I've previously dismissed and how many of them did I give a fair chance?

People are so quick to say, "I would never be the type of person who..."

However, I find it's always the people who say, "I would never do that job" or "I would never spend all of my time with a significant other" or "I would never get hair extensions" that end up finding themselves in a situation that causes them to re-evaluate or change their stance.

So sparkling water, yes, I've been guzzling it even though I used to despise it. Suddenly, there is nothing more refreshing than a glass of non-alcoholic bubbly. 

And really though, nothing is worse than being called flat (not in the chest way) but in the generic, boring, same old kind of way. It's about trying something new, even if you think you wouldn't necessarily like it, or be good at it. I drew the above photo with this design app and realized that I can draw silly things even though I'm not a design expert or know how to use special software. 

I'd much rather try and find the sparkling in my flat life. Wouldn't you?

Time, Back, Here - Not A Model Mantra

Where has Not A Model been?

While the below post marked the conclusion of my New York adventure, I haven't said a peep since.

While I have been busy, it's mostly in the business of settling in, not running off to another adventure. I'm back to a life that I don't quite remember how to navigate. I'm back to commuting, back to the suburbs, back to a routine and a city that doesn't quite feel like mine anymore.

From living in a city that literally never closes its lashes, I'm now living in a house where lights go off at 10 p.m. Oh and let's not talk about the dark drives in the morning or how I walk my dog at night and think, "It's too quiet here, like a horror film. Where are the sirens and the chatter and the people who want to hang around until the sun comes up?"

But I did meet a baby. She's my new cousin and Mia is her name. She's tiny and perfect and her main interests include sleeping and stealing our hearts. We've always been a family of mostly girls on my mom's side and she's another one for us to love and love and love.

It's all part of an adjustment, a new phase and a realization of a new self. The summer changed me in a way that I didn't quite understand until I returned. I'm still heartsick for New York, but it's almost Fall and a reminder that my favourite season always feels like a new year.

A new chance.

I guess the minutes are here and we just all have to find something we love to do with them. Beyond everything, lately, my mantra (in French because it just sounds better) and I don't feel like it some days, has been as follows:

"Le temps avec soi," translation: Time on your side.

I keep these giant paper pads by my newly organized nightstand to remind me of time.

How will you take advantage? Below are a few photos. Enjoy! xx

[baby Mia]

[my nightstand]

Surfing in Montauk - NYC Diaries

The moment we had to carry the surfboards on our heads, I knew I was in trouble.

"Holy heck, this is heavy," I thought to myself as I followed my roommate Julia and our laid-back surf instructor Jeremy to our surf lesson at Ditch Plains Beach in Montauk, East Hampton.

I've wanted to go to Montauk ever since I arrived in New York. I had read so many articles about the area as the place to be this summer and more importantly the place to surf. We took the Hampton Jitney (love, love the jitney) from Manhttan to Montauk to try and catch some waves for the day. Catch some waves? Ha! That phrase sounds as simple as catching a baseball.

Okay, let's get one thing straight: surfing is not even close to playing baseball. Not even a little bit close.

Thoughts that crossed my mind during my land lesson:

• Wait, we're paddling all the way out where?! 
• Without any sort of life jacket? 
• What colour did I reach in swimming classes again?  

Thoughts that crossed my mind once paddling to sea: 

• This is so cool! Kate Bosworth, eat your Blue Crush heart out. 
• Oh man, why did I watch so many episodes of Shark Week? 
• Ack! My arms are weaker than over-cooked spaghetti.  

Thoughts that crossed my mind while trying to surf:

• Riding this wave is not so hard lying down. Wooo!
• Okay, Amanda, try and stand up. 
• *Slips off board* 
• Ahh! I'm underwater!!! 
• Ahhh I'm going to drown!!!
• Where is my board?! 
• Get up!! 
• Ahh another wave!!
• What did Jeremy say about getting back? 
• *board smashes into body* 
• *knees scape on rocks* 
• Let's try that again. 

All in all, I never fully stood up on the board like Julia, the could-be-pro-surfer who was riding waves like she was secretly raised in Hawaii, but I did the best I could considering my fears and it was more than enough for me.

Afterward, we rinsed off and relaxed on the beach. As we sprawled out on our towels, I relished in the quiet sound of waves curling onto the shore, the whistle of the air twirling around in the sand, the sensation of my skin tightening from the sea-salt and the soreness from my limbs from trying something new.

After being engulfed in the busiest city of them all for an entire summer, I finally could hear my thoughts again. I sank my feet in the sand and decided that the best place to catch a wave will always be in-between my toes.

21 days - NYC Diaries

I've heard it takes 21 days to form a habit.

It's almost been a month here and I've been building a new routine that feels like my very own. I've been referring to this apartment as my "home" and sometimes I forget to tell people that I'm only here for the summer...

And I discovered a new cafe that felt like the moment you realize a first date is no longer awkward, and you want to stay a bit longer. And I sat in it for hours, watching people and writing in my notebook and creating and scribbling like I used to do.

And I can't seem to pass by any sort of book stand without picking one up. They stare at me like orphaned puppies just waiting for a new home. And I don't know where my e-reader is because these days I want real books that once sat in someone else's lap or hid underneath lost pillow cases.

And it finally rained, so I picked up and went to the Met for the first time and browsed the Schiaparelli and Prada exhibit and bought pretty postcards and thought about the type of woman I want to become. But I couldn't stay for too long, because I don't like the feeling of being lost, especially indoors. 

And on the weekend I had my first (of too many) sake bombs and I sat on rooftop patios with tiny lights sprinkled in the trees and I danced on darkened dance floors like that eighteen-year-old girl who just moved away from home with girls who I feel like I've known forever. And I ate can't-fit-in-your-mouth hamburgers on patio furniture that looked like something my grandmother would own in the seventies. And someone brought up me leaving and it was probably me, because I'm too practical to indulge sometimes.

And I finally called my grandmother because I promised I would and she told me she misses me and to watch out for the "bad people" and then asked me if I met anyone but then not to meet anyone here, because she doesn't want me to stay. I told her that I haven't been gone that long, and she said it just feels like it.

And I understand. 

Colds, Complaining and Carly's Voice

I'm lucky to have a cold.

A cold, (while it turns me into a miserable little child who just wants my mother to come to my apartment and make me stracciatella soup) reminds me that my immune system is slightly irritated and I need to take better care of myself. It also brings me down to a place where everything bad seems worse.

I recently read an article, "A New Voice for Autism" while sitting in my hair dresser's chair over the weekend and it made me change my perception of what it means to complain about "struggle."

The article is about an autistic girl named Carly and was written by her father who explained their family's journey and challenges with her condition. The article highlighted Carly's daily struggles with basic communication until she had a breakthrough while typing on a laptop.

It really resonated with me that when Carly finally found her "voice," she had this great desire to help other people. She believed that there were people out there that needed her kindness even though she was faced with her own grand challenges. She didn't seem to think negatively about her situation and ask for pity, instead she used her voice to be positive and educational. 

With relevance to my aforementioned cold, it is really easy to complain about our coughs and aches and pains. It takes nothing to moan about overcooked noodles, rude service, crappy weather and failed expectations. My social media feeds are half full of people bleating their mini "problems" to the world. But where does this get us?

While I can't say that I'll never complain about being sick (it does bring out the toddler in me) I am going to try and focus my energy on thinking of new ways to connect and help other people. I have many ideas but always seem to find excuses to make it work. After reading Carly's article, I no longer have any.

On another note, below is the latest mini-shoot from Stef. It was super quick and shot on the day of my birthday in the wee hours of the morning before work at a coffee shop. The shirt I'm wearing below I scooped up on my last trip to New York for $4.99 at a Salvation Army in Williamsburg. How pretentious and "hipster" does that sound?

Speaking of Williamsburg, I'm off to New York today for a PR-related trip in Manhattan and will be spending the rest of the weekend with Stef and some of our friends in Brooklyn!

Be back soon! xx

Note: this is a real phone call

Quarter Century

When talking to my mother on the phone recently, I relayed my thoughts about turning 25.

She told me that every year, on her birthday, she allows herself one hour to sit around and mope. She gives herself this limited amount of time to reflect on the year and soak in any feelings of nostalgia or "broodiness" as she calls it. She says that this hour has nothing to do with getting old in a vanity context (you won't catch my mother crying about wrinkles or contemplating botox) but she says, it's more about reflecting on the process of reaching another age and the mixed feelings that can come with that.

Once the hour is up, she goes about her day, practicing gratitude for life and starting fresh. There is no moping or sadness or complaining after that. She gets on with it. 

While I'm turning a big milestone today I can't help but think about the things that lie ahead and behind me. I have been thinking about the responsibilities that come along with getting older and the pressure to achieve certain things. However, today I will try and focus on the new adventures that lie in front of me and believe that wherever I am today, is exactly where I should be. I will not compare myself to other 25 year olds (past or present) and make my own path towards something new. I hope that I don't even use my allotted one hour.

Above is my first gift from my parents: a new pair of "real woman shoes" as I call them and a classic Kate Spade watch.

Here's to another quarter. xx

The Debbie Downer Diet

This is my life according to instagram.

Instagram, a photo sharing app for the I-phone, is creative in how it uses filters to haze out the bad while leaving a better version of everything from your puppy to your plate of pasta. Don't you wish your entire life was seen through these filters?

Last weekend I attended a funeral for my mother's good friend who passed away from cancer at the startling age of 35. When I heard the news, I was delivered a large dose of perspective, the kind that is shoved down one's throat instead of taken in small, prescriptive doses. It is hard to make sense of tragedy, especially when it hits close to home.

I decided to focus on one thing this week: less complaining. It's a conscious effort to channel the mind to only appreciate the good things, no matter how insignificantly superficial (like a shiny pair of shoes) or heartrendingly important (like my beautiful family) it is all part of the life that I get to build everyday. Why waste energy bemoaning the little inconveniences? 

So instead of cutting carbs, cut the complaining. You won't miss a thing.