It’s been a while since I last posted, and honestly, life has been moving in ways I didn’t quite expect—but in the best way possible.


One of the biggest shifts? I officially switched my major to Theatre Performance and Directing. It’s something that’s been calling to me for a while, and I finally made the leap. Storytelling, movement, the way a moment on stage can change everything—that’s where my heart is. It’s exciting, a little nerve-wracking, but more than anything, it feels right.


Beyond that, I’ve just been focusing on myself, learning to find peace in my own space. There’s something really beautiful about realizing you don’t have to have all the answers right now. I’ve been leaning into that, embracing the unknown, and letting myself just exist without needing to define everything.


Sophomore year has been full of lessons, changes, and moments of clarity. I’m excited for what’s ahead, but for now, I’m just taking things as they come.

​More to come. 

I am taking a creative writing class this semester and I am very proud of this piece I have created... 

THE SONG BIRD
​
In her one stop light town, people measured dreams by promotions and paychecks, not in melodies or stage lights. But her heartbeat to a different rhythm—a rhythm she tried to ignore. A rhythm she could not silence. 
Through her life, she constantly whistled or hummed, unaware of the glares that followed.   The town would hear her singing and shake their heads muttering about how she chased foolish dreams too big to reach. She floated through life with her head in the clouds. 


Everywhere she went she heard the whispers that followed. Her peers and teachers didn’t understand her passion. “That won’t put food on the table,” they’d say, “That ain’t a career.”  


With a laugh on their faces, they’d spit out, “You’ve got a fine voice, but no one’s listening around here.”
But she couldn’t let it go. The stories in her mind begged to be told. Her voice needed to be heard. 


During the nights when no one else could hear, she’d sneak outside in an old ally. In this dark hole in the wall, she would create her own world—a stage made of wooden boxes, curtains made from blankets, a spotlight from a glitching streetlamp, an audience of stuffed animals and critters. She’d put on a show. For a few sacred hours, she became a star.


One evening during her performance in the ally, as the sun dipped below the horizon, she noticed a silhouette sharp against the fading light. A man. Drawn by her voice, he had stopped to listen. When she finished her song, he stepped forward, applauding softly.


“You’ve got a rare gift. You don’t belong in a place like this.”


 “I want to leave,” she whispered. “But I’m afraid.”


The man nodded, understanding. “Dreams are like seeds. They need the right soil to grow. This town… it’s not your soil.”


The stranger handed her a card. 


With hesitation, she glanced at the card and back at the town that had cradled her childhood. With a big deep breath, she turned toward the rising sun.


She would be the town songbird no longer.

I am so lucky. 


Winnie the Pooh said it the best, I am so lucky to have something that makes saying hard so goodbye. 


It’s a beautiful Wednesday afternoon. I am sitting outside on the lawn of my campus with Noah Kahan in my ears working on my final study guides and papers. To my left are a few upcoming freshman introducing each other. To my right is one of our frats raising money with a dunk tank having the time of their life. 


I fell in love with life again this year. Trust me it hasn’t been easy. I have been through some unexplainable things I wouldn’t wish on anyone, but I am still here. 


I am better than just here, I am happy. 


I am happy just being me. I am happy because I am doing okay. 


I’ve stuck up for myself this year, fought for myself, and love myself back probably for the first time. 


At times it seemed impossible. They aren’t lying when they say we are our own worst enemies. 


I am proud of myself. Ive put my physical and mental health first. I really can’t remember that last time I did that. It’s been beautiful to grow. I feel so stronger in so many ways. 


It may just be a coincidence but the music city saved me. The little girl me is saying, “there she is, I missed you.” 

I know, I have been waiting too... to share my story. 
​
No, it wasn't because of what I was doing. It wasn't because of what I was wearing. It should've never happened, because he should've never done it. 

My friends and I had just recovered from a long week of ice and snow storms and wanted to go out. We are in college, that's what we do. I had the cutest little top on with jeans and sweater thrown over. I was so excited to just live for the night. 

Unfortunately, everything was closed. We went home. I walked home and went to my dorm. 

He waited for me. I was asleep, I still don't recall everything that happened to me. 

He forced me to take a plan b the next day, and thats when I realized I was another statistic. Without him doing that, I would've never known. 

There's gaps in my story, I know. But thats all you need to know. I don't need to over explain myself. I have spent countless hours blaming myself. 

I did everything right that night. It's not my fault. If you're reading this and understand, it's not your fault either. 

I refuse to let him kill my light. I REFUSE to let him make me afraid to live. I shouldn't have to walk through life just trying to survive. so I want. I choose to let go for me, not for him. I choose to forgive, because I have to. 

Lessons I Have Learned This Year:

• Every thing happens for a reason.

Believe me. It’s taken me a while to accept this fact. It’s true though. The not so good things that happen show you where to grow and what to learn. The awkward things are funny stories to tell. The great things are the reason we keep going and can stand on our own two feet.

• There’s no need to rush the process.

I always feel like I’m behind. In life, in music, in love. Comparison is the absolute worse thing to do. Follow your own path not someone else’s! :) you’re path my have a couple more twist and turns, and that’s okay.

• Some people come into your life for a reason, and some people come into your life for a season.

Sometimes relationships change. People drift apart. You meet new people.

• You don’t always have to tell your side of the story.

This is the hardest lesson I’ve learned. I hate when I hear a story that is SO OFF the truth. For a while, I felt like I had to tell my side of the story, I had to make sure people knew what REALLY happened. At the end of the day, there’s always going to be people who fabricate a story. There’s always going to be people who don’t like you. There’s always going to be people who don’t believe you just because they can. I used to be such a people pleaser, but I’ve learned, I will be okay even if a few people don’t like me.

• Forgive yourself, forgive those who never apologized.

Forgiveness is powerful. I am far from perfect. I’m human, I’ve screwed up. I try my best to take accountability. I hold grudges with myself, with others. I’m trying to let that go. Sometimes we have to learn how to move on without closure and apologies.


2023 was a year of growth for me. I had to rediscover who I was… A LOT. I often let people get in my head and knock me down harder than I would like to admit. I faced some heartbreaks I never thought I’d go through. BUT I also loved so hard. I also had some of the greatest experiences yet. I persevered.


I knows it’s cliche, but maybe 2024 will be my year.

It’s crazy, how I made it here.
Somehow.
the world didn’t end when I was 17.

I made it past 14
when I wasn’t invited to the sleep over
watching my friends have so much fun
crying in my room wondering why.

I made it past the days where I felt like my mom and I would never get along
endless screaming matches where I refused to believe she was right.
the world didn’t end then.

I made it past 15
when the world shut down
and I felt more isolated than ever
I didn’t know who I wanted to be.

or when I looked in the mirror
wondering why I didn’t look like her.
shoving myself in too small clothing
never eating enough
doing anything to not get made fun of.
the world didn’t end then.

I made it past 16
when I was humiliated on social media
by people I would’ve called friends
I wanted to give up on my dream
and never come back to school

or when I got my heart broken
and thought I would never recover from that hurt
cause at 16 the greatest thing in the world is a stupid boy.

The world didn’t end when I was 17
struggling to figure out who I was again
learning that “I love you’s” meant nothing from anyone.
The world didn’t end then.

The world didn't end when I was 14.
The world didn't end when I was 15.
The world didn't end when I was 16.
The world didn't end when I was 17.

So, at 18
I graduated high school.
​I got into my dream college.
I’ve made lifelong friends at college.
I've got to flirt with some cute guys.
I got to run around broadway every weekend.
I’m writing more songs.

I still have so much more life to live because the world didn’t end.

Since the age of 12, I have struggled with my body image. I don't think I have ever looked in the mirror fully satisfied with how I look. I could blame social media, I could blame other people, but I often blame myself.

For a long while I tried everything to fit a certain number on a scale. I did just about everything you could to do so. I kept it hidden, no one knew the pain I was putting my body through. I starved myself, forced myself to eat less than 200 calories a day, I would binge eat and then want to find some way to get out of me. I never asked for help – I was embarrassed.

I am such a huge advocate for self love and loving your body the way it is and I hate my body the most of the time – I am a hypocrite.

I struggled a lot, but finally took baby steps to becoming healthy. I turned it into a positive thing, I weigh a healthy amount, but I can do productive things to shape my body the way I want it to. I was worried I would come to college and fall back into these unrealistic beauty standards, but I have worked hard to eat and exercise and live life instead of trying to survive it.

This weekend I feel like it was stolen from me. Someone screen shotted a picture of me and sent it to someone calling me "gross". It was a silly little mirror selfie I didn't spend too much time caring about.

She sent it to the wrong person. That person informed me and I was crushed. I have tried to pretend I don't care. But I came back to school and have since then hidden myself in the most oversized clothing I have.

I think, if one or more of my friends has the power to humiliate me for the way I look, maybe I haven't progressed as much as I liked.

I've held in my tears, but I just can't anymore. It hurts. It's okay not to like someone, I don't like a lot of people! BUT I don't understand going out of your way to be mean.

I am working on a research paper for my English class.

I chose a random topic that correlated to some ideas we talked about in class, the fear of rejection. 

In my paper, I am navigating exactly where that stems from and steps to addressing and adapting to that fear. 

I am also navigating that I fear rejection. After my research, I was saddened by the amount of information I related to. 

Signs of fear of rejection include the following: people pleasing, having trouble saying no, perfectionism, putting up with poor treatment from others, hiding your true thoughts, working too hard... 

Things I didn't realize were so detrimental to my health, I now recognize have killed a light in me a I had before. 

Fear of rejection can make you feel unlovable, or unworthy of love. 

I don't think I've always felt unlovable and I know people love me, but I struggle, more than I would like to admit. 

About spring semester of junior year of high school everything changed for me, for the worse. I was with a boy who never was going to care about me in the way he claimed, I struggled finding valuable friendships, I was afraid I wasn't strong enough to chase my dream – I struggled feeling needed and wanted. 

It reflected on to my senior year and I become a ghost of myself and just conformed to whatever would get me closer with girls I had always wanted to see me – to truly see me. 

I don't think anyone truly sees me. I guess here in Nashville I feel the most seen I have ever felt. I feel like I don't have to be anyone else but myself. But I still struggle. 

Sometimes you just wish people would reach out and say hey "I love you soph don't forget that." But they don't. It scares me. Rejection in the end makes us stronger, but it sure does make us feel a lot more lonely. 
​
Trying so hard can only get you so far. 

Have I ever stated how much I hate social media?

I hate it. I would delete it today if it wasn't such a source of communication.

I hate what it's done to me.

I used to never care about what I looked liked when I posted instagram pictures. I got Instagram around 6th grade. I would post just about everything that came to my, and I didn't care. I would post so much my mom had to limit me to THREE post a DAY – lol! My five followers would know what I had for breakfast, what Disney show I was watching, and even the newest hobby I decided to pick up that day. I was happy.

I am not sure when it changed. I'm not sure when I felt like I couldn't post a picture because I have a double chin in it, or because my stomach looked "big" – literally my uterus. I don't know when that all changed for me, but at some point it did. Some point I realized I had to live a fabricated version of life through social media.

You know what I also hate about social media? You can see what everyone is doing. I post a picture and my friends don't like it. That day three other girls post a picture they like, comment, re-share. In my head I know they saw my post, they viewed my story. Why was it so hard to click a button?

Then I'm led into this downward spiral what did I do? This morning we were just talking, why are you mad at me? Sometimes you don't get answers. Sometimes I am just crazy. Even though it says they saw my post maybe they genuinely did miss it maybe out of all the people on my instagram maybe they missed my post.

Maybe, there is truth to that.

Maybe when I get left out of a "I miss you" or an "I love you collage" on an instagram story maybe its not about me. Maybe it's not intended to hurt me. I just sometimes feel like it had to have taken more effort to find pictures without me than ones with me.

Maybe it's my fault. Like I said above, social media is a fabrication of real life. I know, I know, it was my choice to move away for college. That should never be used against me, maybe. Maybe just maybe I wanted to feel like someone cared still.

I don't know why but I do care about a silly little like. It takes two seconds, maybe all I need was two seconds.

I told myself when I began this blog journey, that I would remain honest. 

I would remain honest when someone felt targeted by post, when someone wanted to claim I wrote about them – I would continue to write. 

The idea of these post was to not live in fear of what people think I write about. This was supposed to be my therapy, but similar to my music, people want to read what's on surface, not what is truly behind my words. 

I'm tired of defending myself. I am a writer. I am a storyteller. A girl once mockingly called me an "artist". HELL YEAH I am an artist. 

It's so frustrating when people take your vulnerabilities and use it against you. I try my hardest to be vulnerable. I believe that is what makes me who I am. 

I am not ashamed of wearing my heart on my sleeve. Sometimes I hurt myself. I expect others to love the way I love. It's not fair, I guess. But I don't think it's that hard to care a little extra, especially to those you claim to love. 

Three months into college I have learned so much. There is SO much pain in letting go, so much. BUT there is also more pain in holding on to something that was never meant to be. 

I was reminded last month that if things are meant to be, they will be.