Monday, 28 December 2015

/ / 2 1 : 0 9 / /

Do you know what it feels like when you realize that you're walking on this earth, breathing this air, living in this world, for no one but yourself?

It feels pretty amazing, if I'm being completely honest. It feels like you're finally free. It feels like that first day of spring when you step outside and don't get cold without a jacket. Like all the pressure of other people's opinions is that jacket and you can finally leave it inside.

I got to thinking about this when the subject of me getting more tattoos came up in a conversation with my parents. They were awfully negative towards something that makes me happy and confident. I'm not saying they don't have the right to have an opinion, we just don't understand each other perfectly. But I was never asking for their permission. I will get more tattoos, as soon as I have money and 100% sure ideas, even though my dad told me that "a human skin is not a map". Because from my point of view, that's exactly what it is. But tattoos are not the point here. They're just an example.

This year I have realized that this is my body and I can look the way I want to without anyone having the right to say shit about it. I can wear whatever I want to, as long as it doesn't offend anyone (exception: if you get offended by my legs showing you can fuck right off), because this is my body and I'm the only one who can decide what it looks like and what I do with it. This is my life and I can do whatever makes me the happiest.

And so can you. You don't have to listen to anyone's bullshit about your dreams being ridiculous or your priorities being messed up or anything like that. You should only listen to yourself, listen to what you think about yourself and your life. If you think your life is too boring, change it. If you don't like your hair right now, change it. If your grades are too bad for your liking and the way you're studying is wrong for you, change it. Make changes, but don't make them for your parents, or your friends, or the society. Make them for yourself. Inner motivation is what matters; when you do something because you sincerely want to, you can always do it better. You also don't have to tell anyone why you're doing something, you don't owe anyone any explanations.

I am now happier than I've probably ever been, after I've learned not to worry about what others think. Hopefully one day my parents will see that too and stop trying to drag me down (great song, that one). I just really want them to be proud of the confident person I've become. Of course I still have moments when I'm not totally comfortable in my skin, everyone has. But lately I've had a lot less of those. Maybe I will wait with the tattoos until I move out, though. Wouldn't want to spend the rest of my life fighting with Mom and Dad over something that shouldn't even be that big of a deal. 'Cause there's some good stuff in them too, you know. They just don't always know how to show it. Or maybe I'm just short-sighted when it comes to that.

So, happy New Year, everyone! I genuinely hope that next year all of you will learn to love and respect yourselves. (Here's my confidence boost -playlist, it's what I always listen to when I'm feeling down. Just saying (also a great song)) If you already have, congratulations! You rock.

"All the love as always." - H.S.

Saturday, 28 November 2015

/ / 2 3 : 0 8 / /

I got bored so I thought I'd write a little something.

Then I was like "Oh shit, I have nothing deep and sad to write about".

Then I realized that maybe that's a good thing.

Because I am honestly happy. Okay, I'm not in the best terms with my parents right now and that affects my mood quite a lot sometimes, but aside from that everything in my life is good and amazing and wonderful and whatever positive adjective you might think of.

And didn't I just tell you all that I wanna write about less serious things in my last post? It's funny how that seems like such a hard thing to do after all the bad feelings I've had. Why is happiness such a difficult feeling to process?

Maybe you shouldn't process it at all. Maybe you should just let it be, because if it comes to you to begin with, you're pretty damn lucky. So you shouldn't think about it that much and just let it be there and enjoy it while it lasts. It won't last forever, ya know.

But then again, and I'm more with this theory, maybe you should  think about happiness because it gives you another great feeling: gratitude. When you think of the reasons you're happy, you learn how to be thankful. Thanksgiving isn't a thing in Finland, but I think it really should be. And not just because of all that food, even though it would a great bonus. No, it should be a thing because too many people get caught up in all the bad stuff in their lives and forget to be thankful for all the good stuff, the stuff that makes your eyes shine and your head buzz.

Right now I can see that stuff in my life. I don't know if this happiness is over tomorrow when I wake up, or next week, or next year, but right now I have that stuff.

When I spend time with my friends, I can see my eyes shining in the pictures we've taken together. When I listen to Christmas songs (no it's not too early for that shut up) I can feel my head buzzing. Sometimes I just feel the happiness from head to toe and I'm so thankful that now is one of those times.

I reorganized the furniture in my room today and now I feel like Christmas can really come, I'm ready. And it's not just that, I feel like a whole new person, actually. I'm just bursting with happiness and inspiration and energy.

This post will probably annoy a lot of people, since happiness isn't really a common feeling for us Finns, right? But I'm happy. I'm so happy happy happy and I'm sorry if you can't take it but I really hope you will be happy too. Of course you will, everyone will eventually. And when you are happy, spread it. Spread the love and happiness to everyone around you. That doesn't take any of it away from you, in fact, it does the opposite. Don't believe me? Try it.

Thursday, 15 October 2015

/ / 1 8 : 3 6 / /

I really don't know what I think I'm doing with this blog. Half the time I don't even remember I still have this, which is good I guess, since taking too much pressure was why I stopped writing this last year. I'm just kind of lost and it's also hard to write anything nowadays because I don't have an O on my keyboard. (My brother broke it by throwing a chocolate bar at me. He missed. The rest is history.) 

Anyways, I think I want to start writing about less serious things again. I'm not gonna start posting random pictures of what I eat and wear again (we have Instagram for that, don't we?) but I like writing and I want to write about things that make me happy or confused or angry or amused. Right now I'm happy that I'm going shopping for the first time in ages on Saturday (with a few amazing girls). I'm confused by all of my coursework and deadlines and books to read. I'm angry that it's so cold outside because I love summer and I'm still hoping that maybe winter stops existing this year. I'm amused in advance by the fact that Mom and I will try to carve a pumpkin lantern tonight.

But right now I also wanna tell you about my first tattoo. There's a story behind it and it's long as fuck and most of you have probably already read it on Instagram a few weeks ago but I wanna share it again, because I love my tattoo and it honestly means the world to me. I want everyone to see it because it's awesome. Here we go.


(It's a bad, unedited pic but that's my tattoo. In case you didn't figure that out yet.) Every time I see the ink on my skin, I smile. No kidding. And the story? Let's skip to the very beginning.

25th of April, 2013 was the worst day of my life (at least thus far). That's when I heard that one of my best friends had committed suicide. It was like my whole world was shattering to pieces, leaving me in the middle of it all, wondering what the fuck is happening. 


After that I was in a very dark place for months. I seemed happy all summer, and for tiny moments I actually was, but I paid for all the smiles at night, when my own thoughts came back to haunt me, to continue from where they had left the previous night. Amongst all that deep grief, I felt anger and most of all guilt; she had been unhappy enough to take her own life, she had been depressed right before my eyes and I hadn'
t noticed, or had made myself believe I didn't. During those dark months I decided I would someday take a tattoo for her, so that I could always have her memory with me. 


So I struggled with myself, but somehow managed to stay in my senses. And then it all turned around, not suddenly, but kind of without me even noticing. I had been drowning but now it felt like I was floating. And it was all thanks to something I did just as a joke.


In August 2013 I went to see One Direction's document This Is Us. I had always more or less liked their music but that's when I realized that they care. They care so much and are such sweet, down-to-earth guys that I couldn'
t help but join the fandom and become one of those embarrassing teenage girls who like that stupid boyband. And I haven't regretted it for a second. 


I constantly joked about being so obsessed with them but I don't think I let anyone know how much they really meant to me, how much they helped me. And, even though I cant say they literally saved my life, I don't know where I would be if it wasn't for them. Not this happy, that's for sure. Because of this band I got to know two of my best friends. Without them I would have missed out on so many laughs and deep conversations during these two years and I'm so lucky to have them. They make me glad to be alive. 


So a few months went by, and it was all about the boys making me smile when I didn't really feel like it and accidentally learning all the lyrics by heart. Then, November 25th, their third album came out. I obviously loved it, but there was one song I didn't just love, I adored it and listened to it on repeat and just felt like I could never let go of it. It touched the darkest and saddest corners of me. It made me cry and realize that I could get through anything, even her death, if I just had my loved ones around me. It made me think of her and hope she could've heard a song like that. 

A year passed, nothing special happening. In October 2014 it was announced that Helsinki, Finland, would be one of the stops on One Direction's On the Road Again Tour. I can't remember crying that much from happiness ever before. We got tickets and it hit me that I would see my biggest idols, actually see them right in front of me. 

Another five months passed. This year, on 25th of March, Zayn left the band. Right from the start he had been my favorite, even before I was a fan there was something interesting and special about him. He has made me smile more than anyone else and his voice always sends chills down my spine. Anyway, it happened almost precisely three months before their show in Finland and I was devastated that I wouldn't see my sunshine after all, but that's a different story. You don't want to read about me crying for days and almost failing a few exams because of it.

Soon it occurred to me that this wasn't the end of anything, that the other four would continue making music and Z just did what felt right for him, got out of something that made him unhappy. To me, he symbolizes courage. He left the group knowing a lot of fans would send him hate and the media would be all over him but he did it anyway. He has taught me to always listen to my heart, stay true to myself and never sacrifice who I am for anyone. I should do my own thing, follow my dreams and not give a damn what anyone else thinks. He has been such a huge inspiration to me. Around that time the final look of this tattoo started to form in my mind. 

This summer things got worse again, and along with all of my old feelings, which for some reason came back to the surface, I felt really anxious and sad most of the time. That One Direction concert was one of the few happy moments of my summer and I was desperately waiting for school to start so I would have some content in my life, something to distract me from my thoughts. At the end of summer I finally settled on my idea and decided that it's time to get a tattoo appointment. 

So here I am, with a One Direction song title in Zayn's handwriting on my right ankle and I couldn't be happier, as foolish as that may seem. Even if some day I don't really care about the boys' music anymore, this tattoo will always remind me of the best times during my teenage years and how I got through the worst. This kind of also shows that I will still equally support all five of the boys, no matter where their paths might take them. So this is for them, and for her, but first of all, for me. During the years I have struggled not only with losing a friend but also with insecurity, big disagreements with my family and just felt inexplicably anxious and trapped. Now I feel free and have a constant reminder that I will find a way through the dark. 

So, I think I want to start writing about less serious things again.

Saturday, 11 July 2015

/ / 1 3 : 3 2 / /

When you think you're over it but find yourself crying over an old letter in the corner of your room. When you think you're over it but find yourself staring at her house every time you drive past. When you think you're over it but find yourself listening to the rip-playlist you made after it happened. When you think you're over it but find yourself often unable to say her name out loud. When you think you're over it but just find yourself doing things that clearly prove you aren't.

Because the truth is you don't get over something like this. At least not in two years. You think you have because most of the time you feel perfectly normal but then there are moments that make you realize you'll never be over it. It's mentally impossible. It's even physically impossible, you get into a situation where you remember her and your mind feels okay with it but the next thing you know is that there are tears streaming down your face.

The reason you can't get over it is probably the fact that you don't know. You don't know anything. There are so many questions. You look back to her last months and realize you didn't know anything. You were so perfectly unaware of her pain. You still don't know what it was that pushed her over the edge, that confirmed her life wasn't worth living. And you never will. You'll live the rest of your life with all these questions eating your mind alive, causing sleepless nights and joyless days and guilt and rage and frustration and everything in between.

Then you start thinking, really thinking. You considered yourself one of her best friends yet you don't even know what was her favorite band. You only know her ringtone was Birdy's version of Skinny Love. "Come on, skinny love, just last the year." If only you had known that was exactly what she would've needed to hear. If only you had pleaded her to last the year, maybe everything would be different. But how does that help now? It doesn't. She's gone and not coming back.

Her presence is everywhere you go. It's in your bedroom, where you used to spend hours talking to strangers on Omegle with her. It's in your kitchen, where you once made pizza with her. It's in your previous school, where you always sat with her at the round table in the lobby after school. You especially know her presence is everywhere when you're shopping with a friend of yours who never talks about her feelings and all of a sudden she says "those kind of cardigans always remind me of her".

Miley Cyrus sings: "When my world is falling apart, when there's no light to break up the dark, that's when I look at you". But what if she's gone and you can't look at her smile and twinkling eyes anymore? What if she's now the darkness that you struggle to get through? What are you supposed to look at if your sources of light and darkness are the same?

It's time to remind yourself that there are so many other beautiful things in life to look at, to help you lighten up your darkest nights. It's time to understand that even though you're far from over it, you wouldn't be even this far down the road to recovery without your family and friends. Because they're your rock. They don't even need to say anything, it's enough that they make you laugh and smile and keep you in your senses. They need to just be there.

No one can get through this life alone. You want to look after your friends, after all the time they've put into looking after you. You want to make sure none of your friends are now feeling how she felt. But there's the bitter part; you can't save anyone before you've saved yourself. And that's what's nearly killing you. There's literally no way you can prevent this from happening again. You're so full of fear you wish you could just gather all your friends around you and guard them at all times. Because what if it happens again and you'll be right where you started?

Sunday, 3 May 2015

/ / 0 0 : 1 4 / /

"All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights. They are endowed with reason 
and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood."

That's a quote from The Universal Declaration of Human Rights. It was published in 1948. 67 years ago. And it still hasn't come true in so many places. Why?

Because people are sick. Some people are ready to fight with guns and sacrifice themselves rather than give someone the rights they deserve. Some people beat other people up for trying to get the rights they deserve. Some people actually dedicate their lives to trying to remove the kind they don't think of as people from this world (the obvious example: Adolf Hitler).

People fighting against people. That's all it really is. No one is any more or less of a person than another. If I, as a 17-year-old, understand this, can it really be that hard for all of the politicians, the people who get to actually make decisions, to realize? It can't. It's not about misunderstanding, it's about not wanting to do anything about it. Because it's just easier to let people fight against people. 

"Everyone is entitled to all the rights and freedoms set forth in this Declaration, without 
distinction of any kind, such as race, colour, sex, language, religion, political or other 
opinion, national or social origin, property, birth or other status."

The way I see it, nothing you can't affect yourself can affect to your social status. The things you were born with don't define you. It's the things you do. If a person goes ahead and murders someone, then yes, it's justified to take their freedom and put them behind bars. But whether they're black or white or something else, a man or a woman or something else, it has no effect on their situation. At that point, everyone's on the same line.

There are a couple of specific topics I want to write more about. One of them is gender minorities. I happen to be a girl and that's okay. I feel like a girl, I look like a girl, and I want to be a girl. But someone can look like a boy but feel like and want to be a girl. Or someone might not feel like either boy nor a girl. And somehow that's not okay in some people's eyes. Which is just not cool. I can't even imagine how difficult it is, living in this society full of gender rules and expectations as something else than a man or a woman. I think we shouldn't feel the need to define ourselves. Everyone should be able to just be who they are and do what they feel like doing without stressing about their gender. Do what feels right for you as long as it doesn't hurt others. And something like this just possibly can't hurt anyone.

Gender brings us to feminism. I'm probably going to write a whole post about this sometime, but let me say this: anyone who thinks this world doesn't need feminism is either really stupid or lying to themselves. If feminism was about making women stronger than men, like most people seem to think, then I would agree we don't need it. But it's not. It's about making women as strong as men. Or more like acknowledging the fact that women are, in fact, as strong as men. And there's a lot of work to do on this field.

Then there are gay people. I just recently got to know that in Finland, homosexuality was a crime until 1971, when it became "just" a disease. It wasn't until 1981 that it was actually legal and healthy to be gay. In seven countries you can still get executed for practicing homosexual behavior. Even though there are parts of this planet where homosexuality is considered normal and gays can even get married, we can't ignore the parts where things aren't going that well. If two people love each other and want to be together, how can anyone tell them it's wrong? There's also the question about gay couples' adoption rights. The most common argument against it is that "a kid needs both a mom and a dad". What kind of bullshit is that? Should we forbid divorcing too? There are so many kids living in terrible circumstances with abusive parents, and some people really think that's better and healthier than having two loving parents of the same sex? This is another subject I could write about forever. 

Well, something like a teenager's blog post obviously can't make a difference. But at least we've got straight white men's privileges covered, right?

Saturday, 11 April 2015

/ / 1 9 : 3 3 / /

We might not think about it too often, but a single person's behaviour can change someone's day, for better or worse. You can smile at a stranger who's just lost a family member and they might see light at the end of the tunnel. Or you can frown at a stranger who's just gotten engaged and they start to think of all the reasons why it wasn't the best decision of their life, without even noticing it themselves. If everyone was nice to each other, or at least tried to, this world could be a better place. Putting others above yourself every once in a while would probably decrease the number of people with mental issues, help developing countries and just lift the mood on this planet in general.

Double standards and hypocrisy are a couple of the major issues while discussing this subject. Some people seem eager to tell others what to do and are saints in theory but when it's their turn to do some good they often let their true colors shine bright. I'm not saying I've never done this. I might be one of the worse hypocrites existing. I sometimes notice I criticize people a lot in my head and then end up doing just like them. But lately I've really started to give some thought to this. 

When I'm about say something about someone I try to stop for a minute and think - is this something I could say to their face? Also I think judging people based on their appearance is total bullshit. If someone has done something unacceptable it's a bit more understandable and even then - who knows what's behind their situation? So I'd say judging people in general is quite a big load of bullshit. If you have an unbearable desire to do so, at least keep your thoughts to yourself.  

It's not just about not being an asshole towards other people, although that alone is a great improvement to some of us. It's also about being nice. Flashing smiles, giving compliments. Of course this isn't necessary to do if you absolutely despise someone. But your friend can be having a terrible day and you telling them their hair looks nice could make it all a bit easier. Don't forget those closest to you.

There's an eternity of things wrong in this world and good manners are something anyone can do to make it all slightly better. Being nice to everyone isn't two-faced, it's called maturity. It doesn't cost you anything either, so why not try? Making others happy often makes you happy too. Mind your manners.

Sunday, 8 March 2015

/ / 2 1 : 4 3 / /

"Oh God I just got an F on my test, I'm so depressed"

"If I don't get those shoes before her I'm gonna kill myself"

"I didn't know what to say to my crush, my social anxiety is so bad"

This is the kind of stuff  we hear daily. A person who says those things has no idea what they actually mean. I have to make it clear though that I probably don't know either. I've never been mentally ill. But all of us aren't this lucky. And those people deserve better. They don't deserve to listen to other people make fun of their disorders, they have it hard enough already. 

Social media can make so much harm. It is possible for people to appear anonymously on sites such as Tumblr, and that means people with mental illnesses can express themselves without being afraid of their family or friends finding them (I'm not saying people can't openly tell how they feel but when you're facing your darkest of times you probably don't want anyone to know). So here's the problem: they start posting pictures like this. Which is okay as long as the person who posts them actually feels that way. But then other people take part in it because they think the picture matches their theme or they just think it's somehow cool in general. And that's what I want to write about. Romanticizing mental disorders.

Being mentally ill seems to be the greatest thing of our time. People think they can get attention by saying they're depressed and quotes about sadness are always more dramatic than the ones about happiness. I can't even imagine what it feels like, watching people turn something you suffer with every day into a fashion trend. That could even make someone's disorder worse, noticing how no one actually understands what their life is like. 

Why is it such a bad thing to be happy? I've had hard times lately, I've been suffering with insecurity and issues with my family, but I can still honestly say I'm happy. I can say I feel temporarily anxious, but I can't say I have anxiety. I can say I feel sad today, but I can't say I'm depressed. I can say I had one panic attack a week ago, but I can't say I have panic disorder. We should feel thankful for what we have; mental health. We should embrace life and try to help those those aren't capable of doing the same. What we should not do is purposely try to be like them.

Anxiety is not cute. Depression isn't fascinating. Suicide is not tragically beautiful. Now the latter is a thing I actually know something about. My friend committed suicide, and let me tell you: it was not beautiful. If someone thinks they should commit suicide to be remembered, it doesn't work like that. After you're gone, strangers post "rip :(" on Facebook, even though they aren't completely sure who you were. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the gesture, but that's not worth dying for. They will go on with their lives and most likely forget you even existed. Of course your loved ones will remember you, but they will spend the rest of their lives thinking, "What could I have done differently?" They will be in so much pain that if you saw it, you'd wish you could undo everything. They will be mad at you, for leaving them without your presence. And. That. Is. Not. Beautiful.

There is one quote I saw and it got stuck to my brain. "Suicide doesn't end the pain, it simply passes it on to those you love." And that is honestly so so accurate. If any of you has ever had suicidal thoughts, I want you to learn that by heart. No matter what happens in your life, think about those you love, those who love you. Of course you should learn to love yourself etc, but this could be the thing that changes your mind on the last second. This may sound like a cliche, but it gets better. It always gets better. I promise. Also, if you ever want someone to talk to, I'm here. Even if you don't know me that well, even if you don't know me at all, I want to help. I don't want anyone to feel like they have no reason to live.

Now that was kind of off-topic but I just really wanted to say that. But my point is: Something beautiful can sometimes come from mental illnesses (they say the best pieces of art come from pain and maybe that's true) but they themselves are not beautiful. It's cruel to claim you're depressed or stuff like that just to get attention or to make your Tumblr, Instagram or whatever look better. Just think about other people. Just always think before you hit post. You don't know what it's actually like.

((I bet some of you thought my comeback was just a joke by now, but that's not the case. I've actually been throwing around topics to write about in my head and I have quite a few posts coming, I just need to find time for writing!))

Sunday, 22 February 2015

/ / 1 5 : 4 7 / /

Guess who's back? Did not see that coming, did you? I know for certain I didn't. I thought I was done with this. I just have a lot in my mind right now, and when I have a lot in my mind, I write. And sometimes writing about imaginary characters' lives isn't enough, I'm selfish enough that I have to write about mine. I'm not gonna write that much about my life this time, though. More about my thoughts. Things I have in my mind when I say I have a lot in my mind. Things I want to see other people have in their minds too. 

See, I've been struggling with wanting to change the world. I just didn't know how to. I'm not a good speaker, or good at making people like me, so there's no way in hell I'm gonna become a politician. I'm not artistic, I can't go paint aggressive, symbolic graffitis about my opinions. So I almost gave up, deciding I'm just gonna be an average person who takes care of no one but herself. And then it hit me. I like writing. I express my thoughts the best that way. And I still have this lame ass blog, with almost 200 followers, desperately waiting for my comeback (or not). 

I'm aware that less than 200 people are not much. They're practically nothing, in a world of 7 billion or something people. But each of those, what, 185 people have a family, maybe (hopefully) friends. And maybe they happen to tell someone that "oh, by the way, I read a spectacular blog post today" and then maybe that person is curious enough to read it, and then that person tells their family and friends and that's the way to spread the word. Clearly, I'm never gonna change the world, but perhaps I can change like 0,00000000000001% of it. 

You've probably figured it out by now, that this isn't a lifestyle blog anymore. This is my way to try and make people think with their own brains. Or at least my way to think with mine. I deleted a lot of pointless posts, leaving the ones that I can honestly say I've poured my heart into. I'm not gonna post often, but I hope my posts will be the kind that stick to your head.

And why am I writing in English? In hopes that maybe someone googles something related to my posts, and ends up here. And it's quite obvious that there are more people likely to google in English than in Finnish. I just hope I won't make an unbearable number of typos. Cheers.