Three weeks locked life!

Nothing much to update, three weeks ago I started my lock journey through a combined method of interlocking and palm rolling for shape, they were professionally started but I will be maintaining my locks myself. Three weeks in and I haven’t washed or touched my hair really at all. I have started researching when I should stat maintain on my hair at about the 4-6 week mark so soon I will have more of an update. I am hoping to find a good natural product to apply for moisture on my scalp and hair. I am looking into rose water or natural oils so if you have any suggestions I would love them! I forgot about how real the frizz gets in the beginning or in between maintenance for baby locks so I am working on embracing the frizz look! But overall I am still in love with how they look and I can’t wait to see how they mature!

-Rae

Rae with the Loc’d hair!

 

75 Starter locs

Let’s start this journey

I have always loved doing my hair, okay that is not true I have loved doing my hair for about 6 years. Since I decided one day to chop off all my hair and go natural. One day I had shoulder length relaxed hair and one big chop later and I was rocking a teeny afro an I loved it! Since then I have found so many ways to do my hair, but that was really the last time I let anyone else do my hair. I never found anyone I trusted with my natural hair and to be honest I didn’t even really know where to start looking. So instead of searching and potentially letting someone else mess up my hair my hair became my hobby I studied and learned how to do my hair. I had never had an example of how to do my natural hair I was raised by my single white mother in a very small town. So I learned I became a youtube student and I practiced on myself. I would spend my weekends doing my hair, marley twists, crochet braids of all kinds, box braids, twist outs and braid outs galore. I loved it all, I learned so much and slowly became more comfortable with my natural hair. All of that learning was leading me here a few years ago I put in faux locs and I was instantly in love. I loved the way they framed my face I loved how they hung down and yet still showed off my natural texture. So I started researching real dreadlocks. How to start them and maintain them? What were the benefits and drawbacks that came with them. So I thought I  was ready to jump in, I started a set of locs myself using the instant loc method. But I truly didn’t have the knowledge or will power to start them correctly. I had no true grid and I didn’t understand how they locks would grow and mature over time. I ended up combing them out before they fully matured. But I never stopped wanting to dive into this journey.

So here we are again, locking my hair. I decided to have my hair professionally locked this time I was able to get the size and grid pattern I truly wanted and understand how my lock will mature overtime.

But even as I was sitting in the chair for what seemed like an eternity, I missed the freedom that came with doing my own hair. So I am ready to learn about the process of maintaining my starter locs on my own. I can’t wait to share this journey, the ups and downs the frizz and the crazy teenage stage but overall I can’t wait to invest in my hair and dive into the loc’d life!

-Rae

 

Dear Students… I promise

Dear Students,
Here it is, my promise to you, my promise to every student that will walk through my doors. It’s a promise I never thought I would have to make when I decided to become a teacher but now it seems like the most important thing I can do. It has nothing to do with teaching you algebra or making sure you know how to use your schema well. It has to do with your well being and safety. When you walk into my classroom I want you to feel safe, I want you to feel loved and be able to talk to me. I want you to know that when you are here, I am 100% here for you! I am here to listen, to talk, to walk you through life. I want to promise you that no matter what I will protect these things. I will open my arms to hug you even though I am told to limit touch. I will bring you snacks and let you nap in the back of my classroom if life just got in the way last night and you couldn’t sleep or eat. I promise to listen to you with an open mind and never think the worst of you. Even if you have shown me 100 times that the worst may be what I get. But I hope that through all of this I can show you how much I care, and how much I want you to be happy and loved.
If you are struggling I want the first place you turn to be me, and not for a gun. I never want you to think that is the only or best option and I want to help show you a different way. And if I don’t know how I want to be able to point you in the right direction. I want you to feel safe inside of our school and I will always fight for your safety to learn above all else. You should never worry about if you are going to walk out of school at the end of the day, you should only worry about if you will forget your homework. I have worked with students where school is the only place they feel safe when home is filled with yelling and “daddy pushed mommy down the stairs” or where home is no place at all, but a new hotel room each night. For you dear students school deserves to continue to be a safe place, where for 8 hours a day all you need to worry about is algebra, and maybe if you are gonna see your crush in the hallway there is no excuse for you to worry about your safety above all of that.
And for my students who have a hard time expressing themselves, or who are unable to regulate your emotions in the same way that other students do, school still deserves to be a place where you can learn that where we can teach you how to cope with the stress that comes with being 16 or 17 or 18 or 25 because life is full of stress, and bullies and anxiety. Life is going to continue to show you ways it can be difficult but we can get through it together, but we have to be given a chance. I will always give you that chance.
I promise to fight and keep you safe, and I will promise to fight to ensure that you don’t think turning to a gun is the first or best option, I will fight to give you somewhere else to turn, someone else to talk to. I promise to guard your life like it was my own, praying that I will never have to guard your life, with my own.

Rae

 

 

Boy Bye, 2017!

This year is quickly coming to a close, already it is like 2018 is literally knocking on our door so now it is the time when everyone starts to think what will the new year be like. What will I change? What resolutions will I make and then with any luck be able to keep past the third week of January? But this post is not about the future it is about the other thing we do at this time of year, we start to look back, reflect on what has happened in 2017, how are we different from the time we did this in 2016, what has shaped the way we see the world this year.

For me, this year was a year of major life change, we moved across the country, from the bustling, growing city of Denver to a TINY town in the mountains, when I say tiny I mean 300 year-round residents. So you work with the people that are your friends, your boss is married to your husbands boss (that is real life) and everything feels a little more connected. But it can also feel a little more isolated, and not just because the closest grocery store is an hour and a half away. No, it can feel a little isolating because even though in theory you should be surrounded by your 300 closest friends, sometimes you are not.

Now, I am not saying tiny towns don’t lend to the best friendships because I am finding that, that just might be the case. But I am in a town where everyone has pretty similar beliefs and similar upbringings so I often feel like I am putting on a contrived act of myself, not truly allowing all of me to show because it is a stark contrast to those around me, and not even realizing that I haven’t truly laughed in months. I believe many of the same things as those here, but definitely not all the same things, and I had an upbringing where those beliefs were not the only choice, I was free to find out what I believed in on my own. And I will be forever grateful for that.

So this year has been a lot of me finding myself and my footing what does it mean to be myself here, and who can I truly be myself with? It has been a lot of cringing at the news and praying for the state of our country. It has been a lot of tears over the gutting of education, health care, taxes, the lives of the dreamers, and so many other things I held dear.

This year has been full of weeks of longing to be anywhere but this small town, and then random moments of heartfelt gratitude for the place where we are and the people that surround us. It has been learning to dive into new friendships without reserve and finding the joy in old friends. It has been watching old friends go through new phases of life, some joyful like engagements and then some hard, like telling their parents they are in love with a woman when they are in fact also a woman.

And then the other night something happened that made me so grateful that we are in this place for another year, looking forward to 2018. The other night, a set of new friends invited us over for dinner with a group of people, it was like taking a deep breath after being underwater. I knew the minute she said #thefutureisfemale that I could relax a little more, I could shake off that contrived act and start to be myself. My soul that I hadn’t even realized was depleted began to be filled, in simple interactions it was revived and I thought if these friendships are what 2018 will be like, bring it on. Because in one night of soul filling I was able to reflect, love and realize what 2017 had been missing.

I hope that your 2017 has been filled with soul-filling, I hope that 2018 is filled with a renewed hope in America, in myself and in the people around me. I am ready, bring it on 2018 because in case you didn’t know #thefutureisfemale and that means the future is me, the future is now!

-Rae

Build Something Beautiful, Together!

This is a re-post of a blog I wrote two years ago when Mr. H and I first moved in together, we decided to build a beautiful bench to go on our new super cute porch at our super cute house back when we lived in Denver. As we built this bench I realized that the process of putting the bench together was a lot like the process of putting together a healthy relationship and so this blog post, and eventually this website harrishomemade.com  were born out of this idea, that we could physically and relationally build something beautiful, together.

So here it is….

So what does this bench have to do with my marriage?

Well we built it.. no kit, not precut pieces of wood, nope just a youtube video and a trip to home depot later and we were making a bench. This took both of our strengths and some I don’t think we knew we had in order to accomplish it.

Here I am at home depot, bright eyed and bushy tailed ready to construct our very own bench, something that will hopefully last 30 years so we can pass it down to our children, as his parent just did with a picnic table Mr.’s Dad built 30 years ago.

Did I mention we decided to build this bench on the day it snowed in May? No? Oh well here I am bundled up in our garage waiting for the snow to melt as we begin sawing.

But we get underway constructing this bench and just like I imagine we will in marriage, we started to hit some bumps, my bright eyed and bushy tailed turned into curse words and we were soon doubting if we could put this bench together at all. It started when we realized we didn’t charge the drill, and were left screwing most of the screws in by hand, do you know how many screws it takes to put a bench together? Way too many to screw them in by hand I tell you that.

I started to think that this was Ben’s fault and that it was his drill so he should have been responsible for the charge of the battery and as my wrist became more and more sore, I had two choices to continue blaming mr. and become resentful, or realize that this is something we are in together, realize we both will make mistakes and that as a team we will work through them, so on I went screwing in screw after screw by hand. ( And to be fair, he was also participating in this, it wasn’t like I was left with a screwdriver on an abandoned island or anything)

And I am sure he was thinking that I could be helping more, or stop nagging him about the directions, I am sure I screwed a screw in wrong, or measured the pieces of wood too small ( ok  I know I did that one once) And he could have taken those things and created a list, an arbitrary checklist of the ways I was failing him and allowed that running record to eat away at his faith in me. in us. But he didn’t every time no matter how frustrated he was he would look at me, smile, say “you are doing great babe”, and move on… EVERY time.

And then we screwed the legs together wrong, leaving us with what would have been a seatless bench, not very effective right? So unscrew the pieces, and start again, this time following the directions. This is where we could dip deep down into those gender stereotypes pull out the one that says men don’t follow directions put a big ole check mark on it and slip it back into our pocket of low blows to use next time. But if we are going to create a marriage that is built to last, what we really need to be doing is digging into that pocket of stereotypes and low blows and throwing them in that brand new recycling bin we just got and let someone else compost those. Because holding on to these things just creates an environment where both Mr. and myself could be digging deeper and deeper at each other until one of us breaks.

Now 50 years into this bench building marriage we will have so many of these things we could be throwing at each other that there is no way to survive all of those bad experiences, but if instead we choose to recycle that crap, chalk it up to a mistake we both made and move on, then in 2,5 or 50 years we won’t be counting all the ways our spouse has messed up over the years right?

It was starting to look like a marriage…. I mean bench, the pieces were all where they needed to be, it had legs it could stand on and a sturdy seat two people could sit on. But there was something missing, just like our marriage which has 79 days until it becomes official ,our bench was missing some crucial pieces to it’s structure. But this is where it really got tricky, the video said to put the back at a slight angle so that it would be more comfortable to sit on. The guy used a fancy tool to measure and then drill sideways through the posts in order to accomplish this with ease. However here we were with our dead drills, no fancy tool and only the few screws that we had purchased which were now to short for this job. How were we going to accomplish it?

And then Mr. had an idea, he said why don’t we use extra wood, create a back for the ends and use that to nail into, that would cut down on the amount of screws we need and allow us to create the comforting angle we had heard about in the video.

There you have it folks I am marrying a genius this is where I got to celebrate with him, think about how I never would have thought of that on my own and rejoice in his accomplishments, I could do this without fault because I had already thrown my earlier reservations in the recycling with our bench building mistakes.

So that is what we did, and it worked!

And there it was our beautiful bench, it is still not perfect all the pieces don’t exactly line up, the wood is not sanded or painted to perfection, the back angle isn’t exactly even or at  the magic comfort angle that was prescribed, but let me tell you what…it is sturdy,

And in 30 years when our marriage has seen the test of time,  I hope we will look at this bench think of all the things we could have held onto over the years, all of the little mistakes that could have torn us apart but instead made us a better team and think it all started with this bench.

❤ Rae

We’re like a really small gang.

 

Do you have any friends that are your family? They are the people you turn to when you need it, they are the people who would adopt your child if you ever died?

Well I grew up and those people those friends were truly my family, my mom had a group of best friends that when asked, or I had an assignment on family I always chose them. They were the people we spent Thanksgiving with, they were the people I could count on to be at my volleyball games, my recitals, ALL my graduations, Kindergarten, 5th, 8th, high school, undergrad and graduate school). They were always there and when I asked as a child if something happened to my mom where I would live, it was with them.

This is what I always dreamed of growing up, the family that I chose and the people who are in my life not because they have to be biologically but because they chose to be, And honestly it happened. It college I met a group of girls that are more family than anything, we have been friends for almost 10 years now and this year we are even spending Friendsgiving together on real Thanksgiving, we have been there for all of the weddings, and proposals we have celebrated moves, jobs and college graduations and probably soon someone in the group will welcome the gangs first baby. We all live spread among the West Coast.

But we have also been experiencing growing pains as we grow up, we all met when we were in college, none of us married, most of us single and we had all the time in the world to spend together. We lived life in community spending most of our nights together on the couch and most of our days drinking mimosas and eating pancakes (okay that was only Sunday’s but we loved those mimosas) And we only had to worry about passing our classes and having enough money to make rent and pay for the aforementioned mimosas.  We developed our own way of communicated a fast paced- snarky- love filled style of speaking that our husbands still have a hard time keeping up with.

So what does that look like for us now? How can we keep the same level of intimacy with each other as our significant others become our best friends and 1,000 miles separate us? Well you know I am learning that its more than possible it is beautiful. You have to intentionally make the time to talk to each other, you have to share the things that happened in your life when they no longer are just home when you get home to share them with. And then what happens when you are all together again? When you suddenly move 15 minutes away and you have to remember how to speak in that snarky language all over again. There are growing pains in that too, growing pains in living in proximity to the ones you love too, you have to learn how to share your life again and give up some of your independence to those around you all over again…. Now next we will see what happens when the next life stage changes for us, we have grown together from the singleness of college to being married or engaged, and we will learn how to grow together through babies, and all the things that come with that. Because we are our small gang.

 

Now over the last year or so there have been a lot of changes to the make-up of this family, see one of the best things about a friends family is that they choose to be in your life, but one of the problems with a friends family is just that, they choose to be in your life. So they can also choose not to be in your life. ( not that blood family can’t also make that choice, exhibit A- 85% of my blood relatives, including my Dad) but with friends family it can be a simple quick decision there isn’t the rest of the family bugging them to join the family holiday parties, one day they are just gone. And with my moms Friend Family that is exactly what they all decided this last year. The woman I called my second mom, and the man who walked me down the aisle are no longer a part of my life for the most part because they are no longer a part of my moms life. And like honestly it feels a little bit like my parents got a divorce.

My mom and Sue were like a really small gang, they had been friends for 30 years they had helped each others kids grow and my mom had helped Sue bury her son. They had been together when Sue’s husband went off to war, twice. And celebrated each time he came home. We celebrated all of my thanksgivings together and most of the Christmas’s but now that really small gang has broken up.

 

So is it possible to have lifetime friends? Can you really achieve the goal of having a family that you choose and not one by blood? I sure hope so we will see, I still have hope that my “divorced parents” will speak again someday. I have hope that you can navigate all the changes of life with the same close group of friends, I have hope that all of the sitcoms ever (How I met your Mother, Friends, One Tree Hill, etc) were not lying to me and I can have my friend family! Because right now there isn’t any other way I would want it to be.

 

 

Rake and Shake on 3C hair!

Now to me that sounds like a new Taylor Swift song or a way to cook chicken!  But alas, its just the latest wash n go method I am trying! And boy do I love it so far!

You may know that for the past two years my hair has been in locs, and a little over a month ago I decided I missed my curls and combed out all but 2 of my lovely locs! I loved watching my locs transform and grow but ultimately they were not the size I would have wanted, ( I did not know very much about how they would mature when I locked my hair) and combing them out has been great!

So ever since I have been searching for wash n go methods that give me defined curls, I really got used to the shake and go styling that locs allowed and I am working to remember but styling natural hair is like! The latest wash n go method I came across was the rake and shake method! I found many many posts detailing how to and results on type 2 and type 3A and 3B hair. Now lets be real I have the hardest time with hair types, mostly because I feel like my hair can be multiple types and you know really why do we need all these labels!

But annnnyyway, I typically say that my hair is mostly 3C type curls and I really wanted to know if this method would work for me.  I was able to find one video that showed someone with some more culr to their hair successfully completing this method.

That video is here:

And I thought well whats the worst that can happen I have a terrible wash and go and do a twist out on dry hair, (one of my favorite styles right now) So I gave it a shot!

I used just water and Cantu Shea butter Curl activator that you can buy for 6 bucks on amazon, here  ! 

I made sure that my hair was still wet when doing this method if it was starting to dry out at all I re-sprayed with a spray bottle.

Then it was as simple as the following steps:

1. Split my hair into 6 small sections.
2. Took one small section down.
3. Put some curl activator on my hands.
4. I then simply ran my fingers through my hair 2-3 times.
5. The last time I made sure to smooth my hair between my fingers and hold onto the ends and not let it drop.
6. Then I simply made like T. Swift and Shook it out! Before letting it fall!

Now I will be honest the first day I felt like my hair looked a little stiff and had lost some of the volume that I love! But by day 2 I was in love! I am on day 4 now and still loving it! The amount of compliments I have gotten is crazy and people asking, ” did you do something different to your hair?”

I pineapple my hair at night to stretch and maintain the curls but other than that I just spray with a little bit of Carol’s Daughter Hair Milk in the morning for moisture and shake and go, just the style I was looking for!

I have no pictures from day 1- but here are a few from day 4! One texture shot and one regular! What do you think? How would you “label” my hair?

Have you tried this method on type 3 or 4 hair? What were your results?

-Rae

 

Take me back to WildWood!

 

I can remember the night I met my now husband. I can remember thinking to myself that a person this good, this moral would never love me because of that one thing in my past. That one thing I tell no one, that my closest friends know and never bring up. The one thing I am more confused about than any other decision I have ever made in my past. The one thing that makes me feel like I am not good enough to have this man love me. As a result of this fear, I reacted in the opposite way that I normally do with this piece of information. Normally, I hide it until someone sees me, loves me enough to love me in spite of that one thing I did when I was 16. This thing that I completely believe is everyone woman’s choice to make, but why when I acknowledge that I used my right to choose does it make my skin crawl. However on that night I didn’t bury that information, when my wonderful now-husband asked me about the significance of my tattoo on my back instead of using any one of the reasons I normally share with people, I told him the truth, I told him about a choice that I made when I was 16 and the ways that it still drives my life today. And guess what. .. he still loved me. He still asked me if I was upset he wasn’t trying to make out with me that night, and still convinces me every day that I am his “have-to-have” in life, that I am his most beautiful woman in the world. And I like to think it is not in spite of my choice to tell him about my past, but maybe just a little bit because of my choice to tell him. ( And look at me even now, not wanting to write the word out)

A wonderful woman named Grace spoke to a group of 16-18-year-old girls this week, she will continue to speak to them every week for the next 10 weeks she will influence the way that they share their lives with people, and she impacted the way I hope to share my life. She spoke about vulnerability but beyond that, she spoke of transparency. Transparency in our lives in our stories is typically reserved for the few closest to us, those we believe, as I did, will love us in spite of the choices that we made and not turn our back on us or run and tell their neighbor the things we choose to share. They will see themselves a little bit in our stories and find our humanity refreshing. But vulnerability is what we chose to share with people who have not earned transparency yet, with the people who ask to hear our testimony, who ask us about our day. We pick and choose little-edited pieces of our life that we feel comfortable sharing, things that may make us look like we have been through something tragic but still paint us in a good light. We don’t talk about all the shitty things WE have done when we are just being vulnerable.

But what could we do, if we were transparent with more people if we shared the struggles the hardest decisions we have made and then let people see the ways we were formed and shaped by those choices. Through the times that we hide away from others, don’t you think we all probably have a little more in common that we think? But we just spend our lives only showing the “instagrammable” moments with each other. We paint our lives to appear beautiful all the time. But I think we could all become a lot closer if we showed the browns and the grays of our lives instead of only the golden, the bright and shiny hues.

First off, I have never been to WildWood, not as a camper, not as a counselor, not as a staff member.  Wildwood is a place where campers spend a week of their lives trying to get closer to God and get closer to each other. It is a place removed from cell phones, social media and a place where you get to work hard and take a week to breathe deeply again. I spent a few nights at Wildwood this summer as a guest and in the moments I start to hide away the moments I forget what it is like to live transparently, I hope someone will Take me Back to Wildwood.

-Rae

P.S. I wrote most of this post back in June, and am just getting around to posting it.

(Wildwood, camp- Hume CA)

When thoughts and prayers are not enough!

This morning I woke up, again, to the news that more people had been killed. More people had to suffer at the hands of a man, who should have never been sold a gun in the first place.

50 people dead, over 400 injured! And that is jus the initial report. . . read that again, 50 people DEAD! Because one man, had the desire to do harm. Now that man is dead, and we will never know the true reasons for that desire, but he is not the point here, he is not important, and if I had anything to say about it, he would never be remembered, forgotten in history because he does not deserve to be remembered.

Now every time I wake up to one of these tragedies my facebook feed is flooded with the same words, “my prayers are with the families.” Or “Pray for London, Pray for Miami, Pray for Denver, Pray for Las Vegas!” Now I am praying, I am praying for peace for the victims, I am praying for their families to find peace and justice, I am praying for the injured and the family of the shooter.

But I have one much larger prayer, a pray that this would be stopped, that we can start to view other people with love, respect and care. That we can find a way to remove the guns from the hands of the violent, that we can find a way to live together and stand up for one another.

I believe in God, and I believe that prays can do miraculous things, they can bring people peace, they can heal you, but they cannot bring people back from the dead.

And I believe that God placed us on this earth to care for one another, to be brothers and sisters, if we are his children how can we justify killing one another? I believe he wants us to step up to the plate, and put things into practice that show that we care for one another. He made us people with the free will to fight for what we believe and fight for one another, so it is time, it is time to step up and put our thoughts and prayers into action, it is time to take the initiative we were given and use it for good!

I cannot allow myself to believe that if we took the time, worked together, we could find the answer to our prayers, to end the senseless violence that has surrounded us.  To make it so no more families wake up to the call the a loved one has been killed in a mass shooting. I cannot believe that in America we are doomed to repeat this grieving over and over again.

We need more love, and we have been told a million times that actions speak louder than words, that love is a verb! It is time to put that verb to work, we need more love, more action!

-Rae

 

 

Women Don’t Lift!

Women don’t lift, women run and do yoga or pilates, women take fun Zumba classes and do Soul Cycle classes, right?

While all of these other exercise classes are fun and I have done at least one of all of them in my lifetime, they come along with the assumption that … Women Don’t lift!

Now I bought into this myth that “women don’t lift because they don’t want to bulk” for years, I was scared of the bench press (okay lets be real it still scares me a little) I was scared to pick up weights that were heavier than 10 pounds and weren’t pink or purple. I was scared that I would do just what I was avoiding, bulk up!

But then when running wasn’t accomplishing anything for me in the weight department, I was the same size and I was bored out of my mind while running,  I have never been a very good runner and running distances just made me bored. I started researching weight lifting, Mr. was made for weightlifting his body was clearly designed to lift heavy things, so he has always been good at this at the gym. I found Adrianna Osuna on Instagram and started researching powerlifting, and looking at body shape instead of only focusing on the shape.

She inspired me to pick up not only her book about her nutrition and weight lifting programs but to also pick up the darn weights! And let me tell you, lifting weights that weren’t pink or purple and weighed more than 10 pounds was scary at first, but it feels damn good! I feel strong and my body looks and feels good!

I am officially under 200 pounds!!! Which has been my goal for over a year I started out at 230, the heaviest that I ever was and have been trying everything from the Whole30 to be vegetarian and nothing made me feel or look as good. I am sitting at 195 pounds and I feel great, I am getting my hourglass shape back and feeling good!

So enter the next problem … since you know women don’t lift right, there are NO good weightlifting apps designed for women, I found one that says designed for women and if you are anything more than a beginner you have to pay over 100 dollars for . the year! Now my husband has his pick of 10 FREE weightlifting apps that will identified his body type and help him find his one rep max and work through how much he should lift each time and how many reps he should do, progressively getting heavier working the correct muscle groups each day, but for me I get to use 1 . app that was actually designed for males but has some women’s fitness, it doesn’t help calculate how many pounds I should be lifting each time or when to increase weight, I am on my own. So then I downloaded the nike training app, more of the same for the women I got body weight exercises  and yoga, . .. I DON’T WANT TO DO YOGA!

So again I turned to Adrienne’s, surely there has to . be a powerlifting program for women out there, I can’t go to a class or crossfit, and seriously I shouldn’t have to because women can lift things okay. And sure enough she had her own program, that helps me increase weight find my one rep max and speaks to me like WOMEN ARE STRONG AS HELL! Because we are, so stay tuned for lifting progress pictures updates and PR’s because!

FEMALES ARE STRONG AS HELL!

Here is me, reminding myself that “I am enough!” and feeling super great in my clothes last Fri-yay! 

-Rae