I remember watching Glee. The pilot episode came out the end of my junior year, and then resumed my senior year of high school when I’d already been chosen and named Show Choir Captain (which of course was the biggest triple threat honor and validation one could have as a senior in the arts, right?). ;)

I’ll remember how I felt after the pilot episode forever. A spark lit up inside of me. Of inspiration? Of drive? Of acceptance? 

All three!? It made this little choir nerd feel COOL! I remember being blown away because there was nothing quite like it at the time, representing teens unabashedly following their passions whether it seemed cool or not, right or wrong. To just be! The next morning at school we all chatted about how badass we felt and how we would bring that energy to show choir. How cool it was that such a show came out when we were seniors, in a very “Watch out world, this is OUR year” way!

Little baby Kirstie transferred to Martin High School, with its renowned and arguably top music and theatre program of high schools in that area, for freshman year; which felt simultaneously like a nice clean start and incredibly horrifying. I had a few friends from community theatre but not too many in my grade and not too many that I shared classes with.

I was one of two freshman to make show choir my first year, and while I was excited for such an honor it immediately ostracized me. No one knew who I was or where I had come from, and that made me few friends and a few enemies. Although I wasn’t popular in high school, I don’t think I was unpopular…I ran in the theatre and choir crowd and took all AP classes, even graduating in the top 30 of my almost 1000 person class. 

My amazing mother instilled a strong worth ethic in me, so I valued working hard in school. I loved the schedule, I loved taking notes because I liked looking at my handwriting and cursive, how neat it was. I liked to highlight and color code everything so it was easier and more enticing to look at. I loved immersing myself in studies and extracurriculars which I balanced well, the curriculum only made harder if I skipped studying to hang with friends, which then turned in to grueling all nighters. 

But…sometimes I’d go to first period exhausted (sliding in to my seat right on time or late, you know how I roll) and there would be a Starbucks coffee on my desk from my best friend Will. Or after school when I’d planned to walk home, my friend Jory would give me a ride, but only after we got snow-cones and belted “If Only” from The Little Mermaid musical in the car all the way home.

That’s just two tiny examples of how amazing my friends, how amazing their hearts were. I cherish my time at high school and the people I met there with all my heart!! I feel so fortunate to have spent the BEST times, the worst times, and all the times in between with them. We explored family hardships and disputes, our own sexualities, our fears, our dreams with each other.

My friends were diverse. They were FUN! They inspired me with their work ethic. We all weren’t even pursuing the same thing, and in a way that made all of our uniqueness that much more precious. 

I think that’s how Glee was. A bunch of unique people, all doing their own unique things, then finding each other by sharing a common love and becoming friends.

So senior year show choir, we all became a bunch of Rachel Berrys, Santana Lopezes, Finn Hudsons, you name it. Glee had given us, or at least me, this new sparkly confidence. It reminded me that music was exactly what I loved, and what I wanted to spend my life pursuing.

After I graduated and months flew by, I didn’t watch the show as religiously like I used to. I’d catch a few episodes here and there, ones where the characters development and newfound growth  intrigued me, but my life had taken a turn and I just didn’t have the time anymore.

July 13, 2013. I was at my ex’s brother’s wedding when I heard the news. 

Cory Monteith had died from an overdose.

I’m not sure if I’ve ever cried about a celebrity’s death before then. Although I hadn’t been close to the show anymore, a part of me felt immediately heartbroken. Heartbroken that he’d been alone, heartbroken that he was doing what he was doing in the first place, but had the ability to keep edging deeper and deeper into a point of no return. I had romanticized about a relationship like Rachel and Finn, I had admired his and all the characters hearts and purpose. I had rooted for him. They in a way, felt like my friends, because that’s how I viewed my friends in high school. He was an everlasting part of why and where I was now, because Scott, Mitch, and I formed our trio for a contest to meet the cast of Glee that first season. 

People made fun of me that day. You don’t even know him. Why are you so upset?

I watched The Quarterback and then I couldn’t watch Glee again. Occasionally it came on TV, but it didn’t feel the same to me.

To me, Glee was the first show of its kind, representing and making heroes and stars out of people who would have normally been called losers. I’d never seen representation on screen that made me feel special as a Latina or as someone pursing “not a real career.” As the season progressed it evolved past the cheeky humor and delved in to real-world topics and teenage struggles. 

Seven years later, with Naya Rivera being found the day of Cory’s passing, I couldn’t help but feel like he played a role in guiding her home.

I think Naya was incredibly underrated. The show obviously had its main frontrunners, but Naya’s character transcended the “normal” teen woes of wanting to be a star. Through her sarcasm and wit, she was more complex. She had more to hide. She had more to give.

I loved seeing a Latina woman on the screen, a REAL one, not just an actor with darker features. I loved seeing her delve in to her sexuality with her best friend, and her experiences made my own feel valid. I thought what courage it must take to sit down with your hispanic grandmother, who you love so dearly, and be able to share a part of them that they maybe wouldn’t understand. I was crying from the second that scene started, thinking I’d maybe never have the courage to be that open.

I’ve thought of Naya and her family a lot this week. I’ve seen how many people loved her. While I never met her, I know her and the rest of the cast left a special mark on my life journey, and I will forever be grateful for them, and her.

I will remember show choir practices, in our sparkly, itchy  outfits, preparing for contest.

I will remember sneaking up in to the auditorium catwalk to sneak kisses with my best friend.

I will remember making the silliest videos when we all went to All-State choir.

I will remember belting and dancing on our cars to “Don’t Stop Believing” at the local Starbucks parking lot.

I will remember holding my friends tight crying as we all wore our different college shirts in our final performance as a show choir, having no idea that I was about to go out and be a part of something greater.

Glee brought together a hodgepodge of people. And that’s what Pentatonix was too. And it brought us together.

So I guess at the end of the day, all I want to say is… thank you, to Glee. To Cory. To Naya.

For creating special characters, that lit that special spark.

Rest in peace.

I started the last two chapters, happy to have something of substance to talk about, me being at home, improvements I was seeing, maybe even some rightful disappointment at some people’s lack of care in their actions…but like clockwork the beginning of the week brought in new developments and my mind drifted focus. My fingers lost the spark to write about feel-good situations when the chaos in the world seemed to extinguish the flame.

I was in Texas just two weeks ago but it honestly feels like forever, as if time is confused on what pace its on. The USA seems to be confused as well.

Theme parks across the nation are opening up. Some flights are back to full capacity. The world seems caught on a pendulum of thought: “Are we good enough to pretend and pass like we can go back to normal?”

Meanwhile, people are still getting sick. People are still dying. Protests are still happening, although it apparently doesn’t serve the media to still be airing that. Justice has still not been served for those we’ve lost: Breonna Taylor, Vanessa Guillen, Elijah McClain, and so many more. The media and internet is ablaze with people ridiculing, attacking, or making fun of each other, on top of everything going on.

I wonder if I’m a part of that sometimes. While I still think protesting for “bar lives” is unfathomable and tone deaf, while it was so easy to ridicule because it was so insanely insensitive to compare to the BLM movement, did I help to further a narrative full of spite? Did I egg on anger and divisiveness, did I unintentionally help create arguments online? Did I give a platform that I don’t agree with more attention by calling attention to it?

I’m all for the hard but important conversations. I love them, to be honest. My family and I had many thought-provoking conversations when I was home, about what they’ve experienced with racism, about our opinions on all sides. It was wonderful to expand our ways of thinking using past and present! I think we all walked away with more rounded backing to our opinions, me included, and I’m thankful to have a family that can be so open and willing to discuss.

Yet, those conversations can’t be condensed into however many characters can fit in to a tweet. The art of negotiating is not all about winning, it’s also about empathizing. It’s about explaining and getting the opponent to understand your side and school of thinking; if you just tear them apart for their lack of understanding or different opinion, how can they ever fully understand or want to, especially if you are the one trying to teach them something not in their wheelhouse?

Racism, of course, is non-negotiable.

Everything else, and it’s a lot, that we have encountered in the last few weeks (mainly dealing with COVID) feels like it’s cumulatively driven us to a breaking point, to a point where I don’t really feel like I live in the “United” States of America. I feel like we are now all pitted against each other, immediate to defend our point, and jumping to 10 because honestly we are tired of the bullshit.

I get it. I do. But in the last few days while I’ve watched coronavirus cases develop, “Karens” making a fool of themselves in public places and endangering people’s lives with their sense of entitlement, while watching Hamilton for the first time and seeing good and bad critiques, Kanye running for president, while I’ve cried over Vanessa and what happened to her only to have someone try to belittle my reaction compared to others we’ve lost, I realized something.

Chaos. All chaos.

How can we make real change when we are all just screaming? How can we move mountains when we are pushing from two opposing sides? And while we have made progress, will we have the sensibility to keep with it or will our boiling frustrations overrule and distract us from our end goal, lasting and transformative change for the betterment of BIPOCs and everyone?

I’m not hating on our progress. And I’m not vilifying people’s reactions to things not in your school of thought, albeit insanely frustrating things. I’ve been there and am there. The amount of Facebook posts I’ve written novels for, the shock I feel on a daily basis for some people, is all still there. Yet, my sadness for this world and how to heal it has crept in and bated me.

What can “I” do to make a difference?

Hating and bashing things is our new normal, our humor has become intertwined with it so much that we ridicule and make jokes out of everything. Click-bait headlines only stoke the flames. Coronavirus is still surging every day, and you know what, some people can’t pretend to go back to “normal” amongst it all.

The entertainment business, for example, won’t be back up and running for… who knows? I wouldn’t be surprised if Broadway was closed for longer than a year. We rescheduled our tour in hopes that we would be able to go, but with the way things are looking I can’t help but feel distressed about the outlook for the entertainment industry/shows all around. So many people’s “normal” won’t come back at all until we get a headway on this virus, and it’s gonna take us all coming together for that to work as well. We have to truly be THE UNITED states of america.

As a side-note, Pentatonix has never been this stationary since we started…and that’s bittersweet too. Never take anything for granted, guys.

So while I dissolved into a puddle over Vanessa and how I don’t even know how to help mediate the world anymore, with people at each others throats literally and figuratively all the time, with good people and bad people on every side, I returned to a very old school of thought for myself. 

Be kind. 

What can “I” do every day? 

Yes, use my platform as a strong voice of advocacy, try to filter through everything to make sure I’m posting facts and not scare-mongering or leading anyone astray from what they should be seeing.

I’ve protested. Signed petitions. Written emails. I tried to raise awareness and bring everyone along with me on my journey as I learned, which I thought was helpful.

But I forgot about the most important thing, the thing that’s been ingrained in my head since I was a child for better for worse, the one thing that even though practiced vehemently, never always comes back guaranteed.

Be kind.

I lost that somewhere along the way, a bit. I could feel my soul hardening at how cruel some people can be, I felt how easy it was to smite and bash people’s names who have done far worse. I felt my eyes cloud with hate.

For a long time I thought the battle was human vs earth and I was always so sad to see how easily we destroyed such a precious gift. 

Now I know at its core that the real problem is human vs human: how to one up each other, how to be more successful, how to win, how to be MORE all the time. That feeling has been slowly poisoning us and our empathy and compassion towards others. That feeling is not about bettering oneself, it’s about greed and it spreads like cancer. 

For a long time, I didn’t want to “be kind” like a Disney princess anymore. I was tired of trying to use kindness as a shield as if people’s actions did not hurt me. I was mad at my kindness for blinding me and letting me get hurt. I thought the phrase “kill them with kindness” was stupid, because I was the one that kept getting hurt.

But my kindness did not do that to me. I did not do that to me.

People did. Hurt people. Confused people. People that had problems within themselves that were in no way a reflection of me. People with opposing views. Those people are not my fault. Those people don’t get to have their anger bleed in to my life, they don’t get to poison my disposition with their greed and animosity.

What can I do?

Every day, I can make a point to not be divisive. To not so easily make fun of things, belittle, call names, etc.

I can tone down my “complaining” online. I can not get so upset and rush to attack people that would be hard to get my point across to anyway online, so I don’t work myself up for hours about one internet troll when I could be doing other more important things. Why lose sanity over someone only wanting to argue? Why revert to the name bashing, why invite more stress and anger in to my life, even though there’s enough anyway with what’s going on in the world?

As I uncovered more history, had more awakenings and understandings, and dealt with my own personal stresses, I felt my strength oscillating and now I know why. I was so hardened with hate and disbelief, I felt like a fool living in a world that said it was something else. And…I left my best ally behind in my own rush for MORE.

Kindness. 

Empathy. Understanding. Patience.

So for July, I’ve decided to take care of myself a little more. Take care of others. Make sure that I am not contributing to anyone’s pain, and only being an ally to amplify voices that need to be heard. 

There’s a kinder way to say everything. There’s a kinder way to live. Amongst all this chaos, maybe if we were all a bit kinder, we could ease the waves of tension and calm the storm. Maybe if we could see past ourselves, we could make a lasting change for us all.

I changed my bio the other day. We must be like the sunflowers, pulling toxicity from the ground and air. Nature’s helper. I said I would be like that.

They don’t contribute anything negative, they just stand tall and strong, a mediating force in a world that needs purifying. 

So, I will armor myself with my strength, knowledge, and kindness. 

And see about tomorrow. 

I got the bamboo in my backyard trimmed yesterday, like the proper adult I am. Though it’s now lost that unkept, tropical, “we could be anywhere” vibe (ya know with my suuuuper cool inflatable pool and all that staycation “make the most of it” stuff…), I’m happy that it looks cleaner overall and clears the power lines that it was getting dangerously close to..

Yet in a way, it feels bittersweet! Sweet to premeditate issues and be on the safe side, but bitter to snip away bits of its voice. Within the past few weeks, the unbridled bamboo would whistle and screech in the wind as if weeping for the bloodshed and violence that I’d also been weeping over for days. I’d lie awake at night, desperately trying to empty my brain that was already filled to the brim, but just couldn’t rest while nature literally knocked on my door.

On one of those windier nights the bamboo tapped on my bedroom window, firstly scaring the shit out of me, as if trying to lure me outside whispering secrets. My brain was an absolute mess trying to compartmentalize my thoughts and feelings amidst everything going on. The sound of its erratic movement stirred my anxiety, and I sat alone in the dark trying to decompress, but kind of nervous of its foreboding presence. I felt like a child, hearing and seeing shadows in the night. I even joked to the very asleep Ben that the wind sounded truly angry, for it wasn’t a peaceful sigh like bamboo so often does but harsh, abrupt shrieks demanding attention.

Well, Nature, you got me! I hear you!

A few days ago I walked through not one, but four different plant nurseries. Laugh if you want, but the Nursery Crawl starting at 11am was not on my to-do for that day, and no did not involve any adult beverage. I was so happy to be amongst the innocence of nature, the stillness, the beauty. 

Although I left the good boys alone longer than they’ve been used to since quarantine, I had to get out of my house and the consistent circling of helicopters. My house didn’t feel right. My backyard didn’t feel right. Nothing familiar felt right and I didn’t want to run away, but I just needed a moment to really clear my head in a space that felt unadulterated and open.

The flowers, the succulents, the trees, even the little peaceful water machines grounded me back from reeling. I walked aimlessly through the gardens, picking whatever sparked my eye, asking questions, and laughably came home with a car packed full of plants!

I’ll admit, I’ve barely been able to keep a Chia Pet alive in the past and I’ve accidentally killed anything and everything that doesn’t make noise (aka I don’t have a natural green thumb). Give me a succulent, I’m too overbearing and nervous and overwater it. Give me a plant, I forget to water her enough!  

This time is different though, you guys! I’ve obviously been doing my research and trying to re-home and love on them in the best way possible, and of course anything is easier to look after if you’re around and literally home in one place, but it also just feels so good to pour love in to something and watch it grow. I’ve even been propagating (I want you all to look that up because I had no idea what it meant a few weeks ago, haha)!

The patience and nurture it takes, the excitement when you see it root, is as lame as it sounds SO COOL. Nature is insanely beautiful and fascinating. If one would just take the time to listen, to nurture, to understand we could reap the benefits synonymously, without one taking advantage of the other. I think the best thing I’ve found in quarantine is that I want to be using and connecting with my hands: growing, cooking, painting, writing, creating. Being one hundred percent involved in the work I am putting out. CONNECTING with the work I am doing.

The past few weeks, this whole quarantine, as you know have been transformative. I feel like I’ve been shedding skin of old habits, of past hurt, of feelings or situations that I brushed aside that I am just now uncovering and understanding their brevity. Noticing scars of old burns I’d rather kept forgotten.

I feel like I was hurt and demoralized for years, so draped myself in a safety blanket of contentment, cruising happily and not pushing any major button because I was tired of conflict, anger, hate, and fear. I was blessed and happy thinking how a thousand horrible situations turned out a-okay, even brought the most amazing people in to my life, and that I was better and happy for it. I preached to be bright and positive, but was preaching it in hopes I’d latch on and the positivity would give me strength to face my days. I could wear my silence like a badge of honor, and thank the heavens that I somehow held it together.

I don’t want to be silent anymore.

I can’t, anymore.

By saying that, I also don’t intend to be irrationally brash and I’d never want to step over voices that should be lifted to be heard not spoken over. 

By saying this, I just mean I don’t want to wear my safety blanket anymore. I’m not afraid to stand up for what I believe is right. I think back a few years to the music and distant voices that soothed my soul (shoutout to my queen, Sara B). I remember in my darkest times wishing I could put in to words how I felt, the quiver of my tiny voice as I tried to stand up for myself, and wishing that someone would have just stood up for me.

That’s all I needed. An ally. A real one. Someone to be on my side. Someone to see I was suffering, and unjustly, and even at bare minimum just notice. Just open their eyes, and SEE and try to do something about it.

Again, if you really truly see, and don’t try to close your eyes, how can you sleep knowing what you saw? How can you make cruelty in any form okay?

So…has my voice gotten louder? Yes.

Has it gotten stronger? Yes.

Have I lost thousands of followers, after posts saying people should be judged on the caliber of their heart and not the color of their skin and that everyone should grow up being accepted and loved? Yes.

And I don’t care. It’s a shame, but if the above is something you don’t believe, I may be the wrong person to pour your attention in to anyway. That is said with all the love in the world.

Maybe it’s just all the La Casa de Papel I’ve been watching. Maybe it’s seeing everything with my new eyes. Maybe I’ve just been comfortably sleeping and praying that I can live in a world without conflict, knowing very well in my core that although I’d never intend to incite, I can’t brush off the bad like it doesn’t exist.

My past has made me stronger, my platform makes me accessible, so I must try to plant little seeds of goodness along the way and do everything I can as an ally for people’s rights to live, love, and be accepted for who they are. I am not perfect. I never will be. I believe I express myself well, but I’m listening and learning every day and will continue to do so. All I know is this.

I will stand by you when you are feeling down or oppressed, because you and everyone deserves to be treated with respect and love.

Yes, you.

I had a horrible migraine Monday night. It was one of those that you feel after holding back tears all day, or letting it out all day, it was centered right in-between the eyes on the upper bridge of my nose. My eyes sweltered under discomfort. The icepacks or a cool touch to the head, something my mom would always do (she always has cold hands), couldn’t even console me. I didn’t feel feverish at all, but the pain was sharp and pulsating like a nervous heartbeat, over and over, until I couldn’t concentrate on TV or anything anymore I just had to go to bed and hope I could fall asleep. 

I rarely get those kinds of headaches, that placement and severity. I’m usually fortunate to pass with dull, achey, temple headaches; and even my hangovers are never so pointed and jab-like.

My mom on the other hand, has dealt with migraines for years. I remember her pain as a kid, waking up in the morning wondering where she was, only to find her in the dark in her room, barely able to speak sometimes. I was always so sad to see her in such anguish, all alone in the dark. Silent. Still. While her head throbbed as if a brass band was playing “The Music Man” at too loud a decibel.

We watched a lot of horror films, my mom and I. In contrast to all the Disney films, I grew up on Jeepers Creepers, Scream, Final Destination and all the Freddy, Jason, true horror classics (yes, and all seven billion of their sequels). When she would be in bed, in the dark, we’d joke that she was a vampire needing her rest and that she needed to stay in the dark unbothered, and that lightheartedness to the situation made us smile and contented us.

Monday, Ben asked if migraines ran in my family, and though I told him about my mother’s constant battle with them the last couple years I was hoping mine felt more situational as opposed to genetic. Fingers crossed on that, and kudos to mom and those who get migraines for sticking it out cause they can be a big B-I-T-C-H.

I say situational, because it’s been A WEEK to say the least, with big things and confrontations happening in the public eye and in my own private life. The last two weeks have been incredibly eye-opening, painful, uncomfortable, moving, you name it. An entire rainbow of emotions (Happy Pride, by the way, cuties, I haven’t forgotten about you all).

I feel as if I’ve transformed into a new person with big, wide, new eyes, shedding some old skin that felt a little naive and a little out of touch with how the world, not should work, but how it’s REALLY been working. I’ve been talking to my black friends and fans, talking to my Hispanic family and hearing their stories, and talking amongst my friends and respected mentors. I’ve been doing some soul-searching and digging through memories of my own cop experiences (one, for example, at 17 with two white males [we were pulled over and eventually surrounded by 4 armed cop cars that got us out of the car, surrounded us, and wouldn’t tell us why] and wondering but knowing how that situation could have been if they were black), my jokes of being white-washed or assimilating in to white culture and not focusing on my own, and me coloring my hair blonde and wearing colored contacts not MY brown eyes for so much of my life and wondering what the intention of it all was for. Was it genuine or was I doing it to fit in, did I think it made me prettier, or more likable? Did I think or know that it would get me roles, because many ingenues or leading ladies at the time didn’t look like me?

At a point, at multiple points, all the things I’d uncover or watch in recent news had my stomach hard and in knots. Every new clip made me feel like I wanted to throw up, but I couldn’t stop now that I had SEEN.

I was confused. Hurt. Believing what I’d seen, but needing other facts as if I was missing something completely because it all did not make sense to me. How COULD it?

I apologize for all the reposts and rants, but I hope it’s stayed in line with being something you should SEE, regardless of if its uncomfortable or not, so that you KNOW what is happening, while also trying to call action to addressing the issue but moving FORWARD towards a solution. I don’t want violence on my page. But now it’s hard to turn a blind eye.

The organized BLM LA protest on May 30th changed my life. After the speeches, we wanted to continue marching, moving, using our freedom of speech and combining our white, brown, black, and all colors in-between of voices so that we could be ONE VOICE UNITED to be HEARD. 

I don’t think I went to the front lines because I was white-passing and felt safer, or because I was a woman so could be “less a threat.” I went because my black allies, who I didn’t even know, asked us to because the front was starting to get unnecessarily violent. I went because I had done nothing wrong and planned on doing nothing wrong. I went, in a way, to be an innocent. Because if I was in the front with no bad intention, the people beside and behind me would be okay.

As we walked through the crowds, their hands on my shoulders, their thanks, flared something visceral deep inside of me and I knew I was here to protect and mediate, and in a way, fighting against hate in whatever form as if I was a newborn Avenger. Someone cried out “I love this, this is what this movement is for!” and that has stayed with me as so many lighter-skinned protesters made their way to the front. Because that IS what this is for. Not to divide, but to unite to fight for justice against those that have unnecessarily been wronged.

I’ll never forget one black man that my friends and I urged to stay back beside us in the lines that had pushed to the front. He was angry. Upset. Hurt. Defiled. I’d never understood the pain the black community felt. But as we tried to reassure him, block him from the batons (from THAT COP), bring him back to the safety of the group, when I was hit in the ribs and the face as collateral because he would have been hit so much worse, the last thing he said as we pulled him back was “I want them to hear me.” And suddenly I felt holding him and consoling him was wrong, like I was a part of stealing his voice from him even though all I wanted was to keep him safe. Suddenly I felt so upset, so angry; although, of course, I’ll never even know HALF of that feeling as a non-black person who, to my knowledge, has never been treated differently for their identity.

I’ll never forget the way he said it. With so much hurt and pain, the anger fading in to just pure anguish and loss.

I felt like I’d silenced someone, so all I could do was get back to the front. It was my turn to be silent and let their voices carry behind me.

I’m sure you’ve seen the video going around, the stillness before the cops were ordered presumably to push the line back. While I can have a whole blog post of levels and steps they could have taken before the cop bashed through my canvas sign with his baton, you can look at the video and see for yourself. People getting hit because they were at the front, with no provocation. The man striking me with a baton, honestly probably because I had said openly to watch out for him, because he was showing a LOT of premature violence, because of how quickly he went after the man we were protecting; yet then only pushing the white girl next to me with his hand, even though she unfortunately was struck multiple times from another officer.

All awful!! All taken a step too far. I’ve never been more in shock. Ben was trying to pull me off the floor so I wouldn’t get stepped on. Our friends were hit by rubber bullets. Our other friends on another street running from tear gas.

The tear gas, the rubber bullets, the bruises and the ache have *I PRAY* started to leave Los Angeles as all the protests have started to become more peaceful and more organized. Since, I’ve been to three and they were all just, beautiful, and moving, each one getting better and bigger as the week went on. I carry a sense of pride and love seeing the aerial footage of all the people Sunday, and I think back to what my May 30 experience was compared to June 7th. I heard it was the largest protest yet. And while I felt like a sardine in a can, it was so packed, it was beautiful and it’s a memory I’ll hold forever!

I sidebar to say, I may no longer be cheering at the literal protesting frontlines with you for a while  — I must return to Texas soon for family so must safely quarantine  —  but know the fight for equality, for justice has not ended just because it’s not trending anymore! I think I’m gonna have to shackle myself to my house so I won’t leave, haha, but know there is so much you can be doing from your home! As my grandma said, after the protests which are the catalysts and the calls for change the REAL reformative work begins!! And the road is long! 

The most important thing, in my humble opinion, is to show up. To not be afraid. To ask the questions. To educate yourself through your friends with their experiences or through history.

Humbly, you must think, but what even can I do to help?

Showing up isn’t JUST protesting. It’s signing petitions. Donating to charities. It’s calling local reps. It’s doing the research and thinking, what can I do to lend my voice to help create a better world for all and doing it authentically if even imperfectly because deep down you also want to right these injustices and demand change! Do it in public. Do it in private. But do it because you believe in it!

I know everything feels a bit dark and overwhelming right now! The amount of times I’ve needed a “break” and then wanted to cry because my black friends and fans don’t get the opportunity to take “breaks” is countless. But your mental health is important for you to be the strongest ally you can be!

And if you’re afraid of backlash, understand that many are hurt. I know many feel nervous to speak up in a damned if I do, damned if I don’t kind of way. But EACH of your voices are, and have always been so, so important. And each and every one of you have an important say and CHOICE/VOTE in to where we lead our country!

Someone told me this week that although sunflowers follow the sun, when it is cloudy and dark, they turn to face each other and share their energy!

I don’t know if that’s a million percent scientifically accurate, but the sentiment brought me to tears. In times of darkness, we should all be able to lean on each other for support.

We can all be sunflowers in the dark. <3

Love you all.

I battled again with my thoughts this week. My disdain, my disappointment, my disbelief of what’s happening across the world with coronavirus and this HATE. This racism, this rebellion. It’s a lot. It’s too much, at times. I find myself rambling in to thought as opposed to typing grammatically correct, fully-formed thoughts.

I keep typing and erasing. Venting and pulling back. Not knowing what else to throw in to this tumultuous climate, not even for traction sake, but just wondering what other noise I want to put out in the world?

Another desperate voice that breaks under the pressure of hostility. Another seedling of thought prematurely ripped from the dirt to become smooth concrete, wiped and sealed away, hardened and cold.

As I battle, I don’t know if I have ANY answers right now. I only feel the hurt. I only feel… honestly and uncomfortably, hate, in a way. Anger. Disbelief. The way the world has been moving feels unfamiliar to my nature.

How could people blatantly proclaim and demand personal freedoms with disregard for anyone other than themselves? Where do they draw that line? How do they SEE?

How can we turn a blind eye when what we have KNOWN has always been around is now being filmed and blasted all over the internet, in such an OBVIOUS way there is NO denying?!

This is not the movies. 

I have watched murder. 

I saw someone die.

That doesn’t leave you.

What it does leave behind, is you gasping, yelling at the screen, tearing up, hesitating but needing to watch again because there’s just. no. way.

Racism isn’t “supposed” to be like that anymore. It should have never been, but we have come too far for these injustices, made too many strides.

Or have we, besides advances in technology that are able to capture evidence of these crimes?

Sickening. Sad.

Honestly, what makes it worse for me? These protests that scream white supremacy.

We all want to “get back to normal.” I agree that our nation’s economy is suffering. I agree that EVERY worker is essential to our economy to keep it moving and flowing.

However, marching with guns and demanding rights written in to our constitution, which is by the way a document written when people OWNED people as property, is tone deaf!!! White privilege and privilege OVERALL demands the fruits of their labors, but does not hesitate to think of the people it will crush along the way. Even amongst rising cases, there are still localized protests! 

We can all agree that the economy is awful right now. It’s a frightening time. Whether other choices could or should have been made, we are here now and we have to play with the cards we’ve been dealt.

A lockdown was chosen, as opposed to just letting us all loose with a virus we did not fully understand, not to pussyfoot or mess up the economy but with the intention to PROTECT minorities, elderly, immunocompromised, children, people that would suffer! So many minorities would have, are, will suffer ALWAYS and as HUMANS it should be in our NATURE to balance. We can’t just tip the scale in fortune’s favor and hope we won’t be touched, or be lucky enough to have the means to take care of ourselves financially or medically if we fall ill. Those less fortunate do not have those options, could spread amongst themselves, won’t be able to make means, etc!

We are not some weird dystopian young adult novel or Black Mirror where we just shove the poor/compromised/unwanted away. 

Or are we?!?! Turning back restrictions may not hurt you. Running to the beaches might feel nice on your skin and hey, congrats on being able to even be around one.

To be young and live out your life! Or to be old enough that you’d rather get sick than be cut off from your choices!

These principles aren’t inherently bad, but given the situation we are in, it’s just too small picture!! It’s selfish. What those choices can hurt, are the people that are not you. The people that are working tirelessly. The ones that wish they could stay at home but can’t afford to do so.

You can say that’s everyone, because obviously with no source of income, you can only last so long. I feel that, everyone is feeling that in different ways. 

This is fucking hard. And it’s harder for others. And it’s easier for others.

But we MUST start respecting those around us!!! The violations are selfish. They’re hateful. And hate and selfishness breed each other.

It’s not wearing a mask because you don’t feel like you need to, even though even in a SMALL percentage it could help slow the spread.

It’s publicly and openly defying orders because it’s for YOU and not for anyone you might affect.

It’s waving your weapons around unnecessarily and sparking more discord. I remain baffled at the screaming white protestors with guns clawing at police while they try not to break the line, when you know damn well if it was any other person of color it would not have been so “peaceful.”

It’s being able to leave your knee on someone’s throat while they beg for air.

I don’t know what else to say. I feel like a broken record. The world doesn’t revolve around just you or your opinions. Other people were put on to this earth to co-inhabit peacefully. Not one is better than the other. The earth is trying to heal, trying to teach us something,  To slow down. To see with eyes unclouded by hate. We shouldn’t be trading blooms with blood.

Next time you claim give me liberty or give me death, know that sentence is not just for you.

Try to see past yourself. 

As always, stay safe as can be and my heart is with you all in this hard time. xx

>>Delayed post because birthday week had all the friend surprises and snuggles and I got a bit distracted but…still wanted to post<<

It’s my birthdayyyy week~! My biiiiiiirthday week!

The dreaded time has come? The anticipated event is here? Honestly 28 felt so far away for quite some time, I’m kinda in denial that one, it’s May already and two, I’m going to be 28 this Saturday!!

So far I’ve been filling the week with cuddles, some friends and family calls, and oooo another BESTIE PRODUCTIONS vid?!? We had planned on releasing earlier, but why the rush? Why take the joy out of creating for fun by setting deadlines that don’t really matter? 

Anyway, we hope you love it! It’s always important to unite and spread some relatable cheer especially in such a divisive climate! More on that coming…I don’t mean to do it but…soon. Lots of moving parts and our lives are picking up in different and amazing ways but we still hope to get it out!

Phew. No hashtags here! ;)

So many events happened over the last few days, good and bad! Some even that I am disappointed in, ashamed of, or at a loss for. But! This week is all about self-care! I’ll save the heavy for another time. ;)

Self-care, in its many facets, is so important! Self-care is making healthy food choices to nurture your body so it can be at optimal output. Self-care is strengthening and nourishing your mind by learning something new, doing a hobby you love, meditating, or just purely relaxing. It’s having the awareness to say no when you don’t want to do something or you know the adverse is better for you. Really, self-care is ALL ABOUT YOU!

Biggest of all, self-care is NOT selfish! Everyone needs to be self-aware and know when to take some personal time. Everyone decompresses in different ways. Sometimes that’s choosing an introverted quiet night as opposed to an extroverted one, or splurging on something to make you feel special, or baking way too many cupcakes and eating also way too many (if you’re me, ha)!!

With all the rushing around and intensity we’ve trained our minds and bodies to endure, with all the added stress of not even wanting, but NEEDING to succeed and flourish, that self-care dwindles. Sometimes it feels like you have to put YOU aside because everything else is so overwhelming!

I remember in the past thinking that skin-care took such a loooong time and felt not worth it. My skin (thank you, Mother) was pretty damn flawless for how (wrongly) I’d been taking care of it, so why bother?

That was before I met my sweet Klara!! And while my skin wasn’t in desperate emergency levels of fixing, she reminded me that pre-meditative care is crucial and so is slowing down and taking the time for myself! 

Klara and I met years ago when I was in NYC looking for a lash lift. Pentatonix had just started taking off and just recently Klara had opened her own med-spa in the city. We bonded instantly and have been friends ever since!! 

Meanwhile, if you live in NYC and want the best lash lift ever, ya gotta go to Klara, HANDS DOWN! 

Every time Pentatonix would be in NYC, I would go visit her. Even if I didn’t need anything done or didn’t have the time, I would stop in and say hello because that is the type of beautiful energy she is! And slowly, we began growing together!

I love my friendship with her because not only did she love on my eyelashes, skin, face, etc and teach me how to do the same at home, but she’s been there through the last six or so years of my life! I have transformed into a much more self-aware, happier, and self-comfortable person and I treasure her sincerity, compassion, and late night chats so so much!!

Although I don’t get to see Klara all the time as she is based in NYC, I always have other forms of self-care in a similar vein. As we all know, Covid has shut down pretty much all forms of outside self-care treatments, although someone should tell the people in charge that self-care is essential, eh?!

I kid. Jokes aside, I miss relaxing my body and mind to a caregiver. I miss getting my hair done, getting a mani-pedi, tanning, and getting a massage! I miss that “treat yo self” feeling, and drinking champagne while doing them all, ha!

So, for my birthday week, I wanted to share with you a fun DIY self-care facial curated by Klara herself! My chin has been OUT OF CONTROL and colonizing a little zit farm, so freshening up before my big day (inside lol) felt perfect!!

Since she initially sent me this, she has curated a NEW personalized facial package that she will guide you through on Zoom, but regardless she is an angel for all your skin questions and needs!

>>By the way now that this is posted a week later…my skin has NO JOKE been FLAWLESS! Klara is still a queen for the win but also loving on your face and listening to what it needs also FTW<<

So here I am au natural, pre-peel!! 

ONE. PREPARE YOUR STATION! PUT NICE MUSIC ON, A CANDLE, WHATEVER YOU LIKE TO PROMOTE A RELAXING VIBE! HAVE A CLEAN COUNTER WHERE YOU CAN PLACE THE DENTAL BIB AND LAY EVERYTHING OUT! 

TWO. WASH YOUR HANDS! ;) 

THREE. USE JAR #1 WITH FIRST CLEANSER, ADD WATER, FOAM, BE PRECISE AROUND JAW AND EARS ETC, RINSE, PAT DRY.

FOUR. REPEAT THE SAME WITH JAR WITH CLEANSER #2 (THE CREAM, IT WILL NOT FOAM) RINSE AND DRY

>>Already my face is feeling much softer!<<

FIVE. POUR THE MINI CHEMICAL PEEL (VIAL #3) ONTO COTTON PAD, WIPE WHOLE FACE GENTLY! I EXPERIENCED THE TINGLING AND EEE YES MY FACE GOT RED, BUT NOTHING MAJOR! LEAVE ON FOR 3/5 MIN!

SIX. USE JAR #4 (GLYCOLIC CLEANSER), RINSE AND DRY.

SEVEN. THEN APPLY SERUMS (JUST FEW DROPS) ALL OVER THE FACE

EIGHT. MASQUE FOR 10 MIN. 

NINE. MOISTURIZE!

HAPPY GIRL! I felt AMAZING, y’all!!

You can check out Klara’s ZOOM FACIAL PACKAGE here and on social media outlets! And I am NOT kidding, my skin was SO SOFT!!! I felt less bumpy, less exposed! And it’s stayed like that too! 

This little self-love moment put me in the perfect headspace for a birthday weekend, especially when that weekend was not according to plan! Life is about continuously adapting, taking what you have in front of you, and trying to make the best of the situations you are presented! You can only control so much! So why not focus on positivity?

I was so thankful for this little pick me up that made me feel good about being in my skin, something I’ve struggled on and off with the entire rest of quarantine! But overall I am SO thankful for how special my friends, my boyfriend, my family, YOU GUYS all made me feel! I didn’t feel devoid of any of your love and care. And thank you so much for that!!!

28 has started out so special in some (feeling) unspecial circumstances. I will always rise and fall and even have so far in these mere hours of 28! But I am so happy for your support. Just remember to always support yourself too! 

So on that note, I hope you find time before the month is done for some EXTRA self-care!!!

And happy 3 years to Break a Little <3

Love you all!

I’m kind of embarrassed to say…I lost track of what day it was again, haha! I’m so sorry to post late!

The culprit is obvious: my inflatable pink “Barbie convertible-looking” splash pool. Now that the weather has been heating up, I’ve tried to spend the sunnier hours outside to get some color on my translucent quarantine skin! I need that vitamin D in my life but man is it getting hot outside! This pool has been a godsend. We’ve even taught Floof how to swim! Undecided if he loves it or hates it, but we think it’s adorable, haha!

It’s been nice to build different little set-ups in the house. I’ve been finessing room decor details or setting up new spaces and it’s totally helped break up the mundane usual scheduled program of what our lives are right now. Sometimes the pool and my little outdoor space even feel like I’m maybe…somewhere else on a vacay! A girl can dream!

Speaking of dreams, I turn 28 in less than 10 days and I’ll admit this was not how I imagined my birthday to look like.

I feel like it was just yesterday that I was 25 in NYC, living life, chasing dreams! Crazy how fast time flies when you’re enjoying yourself or when you’re surrounded by people and things that provide comfort in your life as opposed to stress. The 24 year old version of me was so stuck on what she felt like she needed to be or should be that she aged herself prematurely!

As the past has shown, life does not always turn out the way you plan it. If I told you all the plans I’d intended for this year, you’d maybe laugh at me. They seem too far away now, or too frivolous.

But again, in this ever-changing climate, I’ve found a sense of solace and gratitude.

The other day I caught up and got everything I needed to done, yet I still felt unsatisfied. I felt because I got everything done in less time than I expected, I should fill my day with something else. But why would packing my day from morning to evening provide a better sense of accomplishment than just being thankful to accomplish what I need in a day and then have time for whatever else? Wouldn’t that fulfill me more, to give time to ALL areas of my life instead of just work?

The travel is a big factor in making one feel like they’re outputting more, I think, especially for my brain. I’m constantly on the go. I’ve never really worked from home. And crazy as I feel this sounds, I’ve never been in one place longer than the 6 months I was living in NYC in 2018 (and even then had some LA travel for PTX) since I was 19!!

In a strange way, I am getting the opportunity to have time for the things I put off before. 

I’m appreciative that in this time I can clean up the overdue ghosts in the house. I’m appreciative to have time, more than enough, to call my family and friends and catch up. I’m appreciative to have this blog and be able to share experiences with you guys. I’m appreciative to have time to walk the dogs in my neighborhood and notice for the first time that the street is fully lined with the exact same trees that are fully blooming beautiful red flowers right now… Something I’ve never witnessed in the almost 4 years of me living here.

Before all this happened I’d written about how uncomfortable I was with stillness and how I hoped to be able to sit with myself quietly and be okay.

Well, this quarantine has shown that it’s a work in progress. I went through the “what do we do I guess drink too much wine” phase and am now out on the other side feeling a little less like I have to output physical evidence of how hard I work and just work hard to get what I need done and then … enjoy myself. Spend time with the dogs. Write. Lay! 

I think that’s a good take-away, and for now, I have peace with that self-realization and appreciation for the things around me.

So again, we take strides towards awareness, not just for self but for the benefit of others too. With restrictions loosening around the country, please remember to respect your neighbor. Remember that while you’re dying to get out of the house, others could die if you choose to be irresponsible with your actions.

Let’s always strive to be a positive factor in tipping the scale of the world towards goodness.

You are all my sunflowers and I am appreciative for you. 

Hi, friends!

Hope you all are doing well this week! Apologies for the late post, but I have a sweet surprise to make up for it! Two, actually!

I’ve been keeping busy this past week writing and recording new music and then brainstorming fun video concepts with Ben! The week has flown by, it’s been so fun! We give you theatrics! Humor! Cupcakes! Musical theatre!

Yes, the first song from our homemade mini musical will be debuting #soon! 

Aka…tomorrow. You know I wouldn’t do that to you guys…

Jokes aside, it’s been so nice flexing that creative muscle and collaborating with my boyfriend’s strengths as well! I’ve even started work on my own muscles again!

I…am out of shape, hahaha! But it’s okay! I’ve put that on the back burner and now I just have to get through the adjustment period of my body realizing it’s moving faster than a slow gait to the kitchen and we’re on our way!

The body is such a wonderful instrument! I am consistently in awe with what our bodies go through and can handle overall. Fascinated by where we hold our stresses, how we rebound, how the body heals itself. 

Since I never was a true, full-fledged athlete, I never connected with or understood my body fully besides vocal health; but from breaking my ankle in 2018 to working with Annie (PTX personal trainer and physical therapist) within the last year, I’ve become so much more aware of my overall body and health! It’s time we start implementing that in to daily life, no matter the setback, yeah? :) Goals are still goals! Setbacks (Corona) may knock you back a few pegs, but it’s never a reason to give up!

I have a little over two weeks until my birthday and while I’m definitely not in the shape I had anticipated (y’all I was ROCKING IT in January), there’s no better time than the present to kick back in to gear!

That being said…I have been indulging in some sweet treats lately! Between birthdays and this new video Ben and I have been working on, my sugar intake has been sky hiiiiiigh. Just yesterday I had an enormous mouthful of cupcakes for our video… You’ll see ;)

Now that I’m getting back in to working out and I’m, to be honest, a little cupcake-d out, I probably will be cutting down on the sweets. 

HOWEVER, just because I may not be enjoying them doesn’t mean YOU GUYS shouldn’t enjoy this AMAZING recipe!!!

I’ve used this recipe multiple times now and it is perfect every time!! The consistency of the cupcakes is super springy and light but without lacking flavor or depth! The recipe for icing is attached as well, but honestly these cupcakes are so good naturally you don’t even really need it!

I personally loved using them as mini cupcakes as they are deliciously sweet, but they can be used normally as well!

To make the cute LGBTQ+ colored cupcakes, I separated the batter into however many colors I wanted and used the desired food coloring to get the shade I liked! The measurements will vary depending on the size of your cupcakes and how many colors you use!

Have fun with it! Enjoy! Tag me! Send me pictures ;)

Shoutout to John Kanell at PreppyKitchen! If you have any other questions, please make sure to check out his recipe on his site PreppyKitchen or try any of his other recipes! I have yet to try his others but I have no doubt that they all look delicious, and no better time to try out a new recipe than now!!

Ingredients

For the Cupcakes:

• 1 2/3 cup all-purpose flour 213g
• 1 cup granulated sugar 200g
• ¼ tsp baking soda
• 1 ½ tsp baking powder
• ¼ tsp kosher salt
• ¾ cup unsalted butter 170g, melted
• 3 egg whites
• 1 tbsp vanilla extract 15mL  (I always use more vanilla in all my baking recipes so use your own discretion based on taste preferences)
• ½ cup sour cream 120mL
• ½ cup whole milk 120mL (I used 2%)

For the Vanilla Buttercream:

• 2 lb confectioners sugar 900g
• 1 lb unsalted butter 450g, room temperature
• 1 tsp vanilla extract (I always use more vanilla in all my baking recipes so use your own discretion based on taste preferences)
• 1 tbsp heavy cream
• 1 pinch kosher salt
• 1 tsp whole milk (I used 2%)

Instructions

For the Cupcakes:

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Place cupcake papers in a cupcake pan.

2. Sift the flour, sugar salt, baking soda and powder into a large bowl, and whisk together.

3. Separate the yolk from the eggs. The yolks can be discarded unless you’re using them for a different icing.

4. In another bowl, whisk together the wet ingredients until combined. (The batter may be clumpy, do not worry!)

5. Add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients. Mix until combined.

6. Distribute the batter evenly into cupcake papers, filling each paper with about 2/3 the way up. They will rise to the top and if you put too much batter they will overflow slightly after finished baking!

7. Bake for about 18 minutes or until centers are springy to the touch. The toothpick in the center check always works like a charm!

For the Buttercream:

1. In a stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, cream the room temperature butter on high speed. 

2. Add in the confectioners sugar in two batches. 

3. Add salt, milk, cream and vanilla. Mix until fluffy.

4. Now you’re ready to ice your cupcakes! Use food coloring, use a piping bag to decorate, or just slab some on with a spoon! But enjoy!