Quelling the inner voice.

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Introspection is weird. You can be going about your day, not an off thought in the world, but then you pause to do some menial task and your mind starts wandering. Some days it goes on an adventure outward. Some days, it decides to do a deep dive into your psyche and then you’re suddenly overanalyzing yourself. I find myself doing this a lot lately, as I struggle to heal, and deal with my ever changing health and mental health.

I’ve been quiet on this blog. On social media. On anything that anyone other than the people close to me can see or hear. Hell, sometimes I’ve been quiet there, too. I spent so long walking on eggshells the past few years, I’ve been struggling to figure out how to stop, even when I know I’m safe.
I apologize when I’m a mess. I try not to be an inconvenience to those I care about when I’m having a bad mental health day. I still find myself overthinking everything I say, do, and might say. I think I’ve been afraid to post anything that might upset someone, anyone, even though this blog and my social profiles are my space. Even though the time I spend with those I’m closest to now is safe space. I don’t want to think that way anymore.

I think like that a lot, lately. About how I do things, why I do things, why do I think the way I think? Honestly? I’m so, so tired of thinking about it all, constantly. But self analyzing, deep thought, its what shows me the things I need to heal from, that I likely didn’t realize I needed to until now.
I’ve felt more myself in the past 8 months than I have in the past 8 years. To say that, with that much truth behind it, is insane. You don’t realize how much of yourself you’ve suppressed over the years, until you feel like you’re able to let yourself go, be the weird, strange person you enjoy being, and discover that people love you even more for it. But to process everything from the past few years, to realize how much you’ve been through? That’s terrifying.
The voice in my head screams at me regularly. Reminding me of all of the things I have to heal from. Some days I’m really good at drowning her out. I know her thoughts are insecure, and irrational, and wrong. But this week I’ve realized… if the voice in my head can be that loud, why the hell can’t I be? What am I afraid of?

9 months ago, I lost my Dad to cancer. 3 weeks later, I ended a roughly 7 year relationship to someone I had planned on marrying over a year before. To a lot of people, I probably looked insane. That’s a lot of huge change, in less than a month. I realized after I lost Dad, that I had been holding onto something that I should have let go of a long time ago. When we got Dad’s diagnosis in early fall of 2020, suddenly my entire world changed. So I desperately clung to the one constant in my life, no matter how unstable it was. I knew then that what I was holding onto could fall apart at any moment, but at that point, I don’t think I cared.
When my Dad passed, with him passed a lot of things that most little girls dream of their dad being around for. For me, the realization that Dad was no longer around for a lot of the big moments to come hit me extremely hard, and I felt something fall apart all over again. The illusion surrounding my relationship, engagement, and planned wedding shattered. Part of me had been hoping that somehow things would get better, and my dad would be there to walk me down the aisle. It took my world crumbling to realize just how unhappy I was, and then I realized I wasn’t afraid of change anymore.

I’ve been quiet, because I think I’ve been afraid. Excuse me when I say F* that. I stayed quiet when a post was made, basically implying that I had been cheating, that the person I’m now with was the reason for me ending my relationship. Its easy to blame other people if it means you don’t have to take accountability for the person you are, for the things you said to the person that you were supposed to be there for more than anyone, the day of her father’s memorial. That entire afternoon will be one I never truly forget. I stayed quiet when people I was told I was a bad person for wanting to work things out with and remain friends with, were manipulated into taking sides. Suddenly, those people aren’t the terrible, shallow people I was told they were. In the end, the only thing I feel is bad that they’re also that easily manipulated. I’ve stayed quiet as I process the mental trauma, gaslighting, reactive abuse and overall manipulation I allowed myself to be subject to for so long. I’m never going to be that person again, and I’m done being quiet.

I’ve done a lot of healing in the past months, but I’ve done it in quiet. Letting bits and pieces show through from time to time to the outside world. I still have a lot more healing to do. Bits of myself to regain. Intrusive thoughts, defensive mechanisms and trauma responses to work through. Parts of my brain to rewire. I’m still learning how to let myself be authentic and to say F what people think of that. I still have to remind myself daily, that its OK to not be OK sometimes, and its okay to still feel broken sometimes.

The last post I made on this blog was in January, entitled “a mess,” and I’ve been quiet since then. Guess what? I’m still a mess, grief is still messy. I’m still processing how to go on with my life without my dad here to see the life I’m working towards, the life I want to build with the people I want to build it with. That won’t change for a long time.

Me, the part of me that cares what the world thinks, and my silence? That will.

A mess.

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Grief is messy. There’s no other way to describe it…. but its not the obvious kind of messy.
Its the kind that makes you feel like you’re fine for 2 weeks, just to have a breakdown in the car on the way home when you’re not expecting it, ugly crying as you drive home.
Yes, that oddly specific reference was me just a few hours ago.
Everyone grieves differently, and I know this. Some people can carry on and hide it away, and go on with day to day life as things were before your world was shattered.
Some people can’t get out of bed for months.
Some people wish they could be the latter, but instead are forced to be the former.
Some are a mix of the above, some are different. I know there’s no right way to grieve, but some days I feel like I’m doing it wrong.

You can know what’s inevitably coming all you want, but you will never be ready for the moment you had been dreading for months. You can tell yourself that you’re prepared for it, but I promise you, you’re not… You’ve spent days, weeks, months trying to prepare yourself to lose one of the most important people in your life, that you don’t think about all of the other things you lose right along with them.

2021 was a difficult year for myself and for my family, nobody can argue that. But for me, it was also a year of huge personal growth, and a whole lot of change. I finally started taking my mental health seriously, and trying to find the parts of myself I’d lost the past few years. Turns out once you’re as lost as I was, your chances of finding all of you again are fairly low… Which is okay, when you realize you didn’t really like all of the person you were before, either.

I spent a really long time afraid of what I didn’t know. I was absolutely terrified of losing Dad… but I knew it was coming eventually. I just didn’t know eventually would come so soon… there were so many things he needed to be around for yet. When he didn’t get to be around for a lot of those things, the fear of everything else just kind vanished. Something in me snapped, and I was done being afraid to change things. I guess in a way, losing my dad was a wake up call.

Grief for me comes out in a lot of ways, for me, mostly a whole lot of crying, and sometimes a whole lot of anger. I miss the hell out of my dad. But I think what I grieve most, is the moments he isn’t here for anymore, and the things I’m going to miss having him a part of.
He didn’t get to be here, and be proud of me when I ended a years long relationship, that had turned more toxic than it had good, and had left me feeling like I went through losing my dad alone.
He’s not here as I get ready to buy my first house, to help me move, to help me with DIY home projects, to play with Apollo in my new backyard, to see the home I create. He won’t get to see all the fantastic people that I have cheering me on, offering to help. He won’t get to laugh at me as I get to experience all the “joys” of finally having a place of my own.
He’s not around to see and meet the amazing circle of people I’ve grown so close with. The friendship that turned into my absolute best friend, who I’d be absolutely lost without. Dad would have absolutely loved her. The man I found the most unexpected, amazing connection with, who likes me even when I’m a mess & breaking down in his apartment on a random Wednesday afternoon… who Dad would have asked a million and one questions, and been so excited to have someone new to show his techy stuff to. And the family who’s become a second family for me, who treat me like I’ve always belonged there, and who’s daughters I absolutely adore, just as much as my dad did.

I’m going to miss him being around for the big moments that haven’t happened yet in my life. My first house, finally doing my first comic con with my art, walking me down the aisle someday, or being there when I have kids of my own some day. And that’s when the anger hits… I feel cheated, that I won’t have my Dad around for those big things. Angry at other people, but knowing I’ll never say it. Angry at myself for things that don’t even make sense. Angry at things I know I can’t control.
Grief for me is crying, and feeling angry about things that no matter what I do, I can’t change. Its wanting to talk about it with people, but not wanting to burden anyone with the mess that I am, so instead, I’m quiet. Grief is me, sitting in my studio at midnight on a Thursday, crying and putting my inner monologue onto virtual paper. Grief is feeling guilty that it took losing him to make me realize how unhappy I had been for so long. Grief is me knowing that I’m going to have days like this, and that’s okay… even when I really don’t feel like I am.

I know he’s probably somewhere, insanely proud of me. Just as excited as I am for my new house. Happy that I’m finally trying to do more with the blog and website we spent hours talking about. And so, so happy that I finally realize the amazing things I deserve, and deciding that I won’t settle for anything less.

Grief is weird, and its messy. Most days, I’m okay. And some days, like today, I’m an absolute mess. But grief has this way of showing you that you are stronger than you ever knew, even when you feel like you’re at your weakest.


Thanks, Dad.

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On September 24th, 2021, at about 11:30 at night, I sat with my mom and sisters, and held my Dad’s hands as he took his final breaths. Its been just over a month now, and it will probably never stop hurting. It hurts to walk into my parents house, and not be able to walk down the hall to hear the hairdryer blowing on his hands as he starts telling me about this new photography or website project he’s been working on. I didn’t hear him call me Meggie enough. He was the only person that I ever allowed to pronounce my name with the E sounding like an A…. and as much as I hate hearing that pronunciation, I miss it. I miss the deep bass to his voice when he was making corny jokes. I miss how excited he got when I would tell him about new projects. I miss him, and I wish I had gotten to thank him for so much more.

It was no secret to most that knew us, that my dad and I were more often than not, conflicting storms. We were too alike, but I thank him every day for passing on his love for creativity and wonder.

In the days following my dad’s passing, we had to have a lot of difficult conversations while making arrangements. One of the topics, of course, was if anyone would speak at my dad’s memorial. I knew it wouldn’t be right if none of us said anything… Dad always loved listening to me tell stories, so I decided that I would be the one to speak.

I’d like to share what I wrote/said at my dad’s service on October 1st, 2021. Dad had a huge impact on a lot of different communities in his 71 years of life… some of them from all over the country, or the world even. If you’d like to see his celebration of life, we arranged for it to be live-streamed for the friends and family that couldn’t make it to Michigan. You can see that here. Please note that if you get to the part in which I speak, I’m a blubbering mess. You’ve been warned.

Below is what I had typed up to read that day. I like to think Dad was laughing from wherever he is now. So thanks, Dad <3

I think I decided last weekend that I wanted to get up here and share with you all today. But a few good memories or a story just didn’t seem like enough…
If we’re being honest, I probably wasn’t the easiest kid to deal with when I was younger. I mean I’m probably not the easiest to deal with now at age 30, but I DEFINITELY wasn’t back then. Mom can probably vouch for that.
I’m stubborn, hard headed, difficult at my best, and I’ve got a temper. Mom will tell you that I got all that from Dad, which is probably true. Its no wonder why we butted heads all the time. I probably never said it back then, but Sorry, Dad.
Dad and I were constantly at odds over one thing or another. When you’re a kid, you never understand why your parents are the way they are. I didn’t understand it for years; why my dad was the way he was. And I definitely didn’t understand why it felt like he just didn’t understand me.
As I got a little older, and I moved out, Dad and I got along better. We had actual conversations about a lot of different things.  We talked about photography, website design, plants, video games, you name it.
I don’t think I really started to understand Dad until a few years ago...  While mom is probably totally  right, and I did inherit my stubborn attitude and my temper from Dad, it wasn’t all bad, and I inherited a whole lot more than that.
Having Dad’s temper might mean I’m a*little* hot headed… but it also means he taught me to fight for what I believe in, and to stand my ground. He taught me that I may not always be right; and if I’m not, learn from it, grow from it, and change for the better.
Dad teaching me to be stubborn meant he taught me how to be determined, how to not give up even when things got hard and how to work through whatever obstacle might be in my way; he taught me how to be a problem solver, and I think I learned from the best, there.
I may have gotten my temper and my stubbornness from Dad, but that also means I got my passion from Dad. For my projects, for the people around me, and for life in general. Dad gave his all everywhere he could, and he impacted SO. MANY. PEOPLE. Because of it.
Through the Diecast Pub he created a community. He made a huge impact on an entire hobby, and made friends in every corner of the US and even other countries. Reading all of the posts from the people he met over the years showed me just how much he put into the hobby, and how grateful people were for that.
He got to share his photography with not only his hobby friends, but with his family and friends here, too. He took a bunch of our senior photos. And if you have the time to look through the photography albums we brought, and he was SUCH a talented photographer, you’ll see just how much passion and energy he put into every snap of the lens.

When I was younger, I went through high school with just about every hair color I could convince my mom to do for me, but the one that I always came back to was purple. Dad often voiced that he never understood why I wanted to have purple hair. That was one of the things I gave up when I tried to do the whole “adulting” thing and fit in better. 
I may have thought for years my dad never really understood me, but I realized he probably did all along, and really just didn’t know how to show me. Last fall, I finally convinced myself that I could be an “adult” and still be ME, so I showed up to their house one day, with freshly dyed purple and blue hair, and fully expected a comment from my dad about how he didn’t understand why I would want to have purple and blue hair.
Instead, when I walked into the office and said “What do you think?” He thought for a moment, looked at me and said “I always thought you looked the best with your hair like that.”
I may have inherited Dad’s hard-headed attitude and his temper, but it means I learned from the best how to have a passion for life. And I am so very thankful for that.

Writing prompt: Being Afraid

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We fight all the time, I thought. Just another stupid fight we’ll pretend didn’t happen later… My gut told me I was wrong, but I’ve always hated being wrong, so I kept going, kept spitting the vitriol I knew fueled these moments.
Why do I do this? I asked myself. Why do I keep adding fuel to this hellfire? I hated fighting with him. It made us both stay stupid things we didn’t mean. Neither of us knew how to be wrong or concede, so it turned into this.
I screamed. I told him I was done with this conversation, that we weren’t getting anywhere, that these arguments never change anything, that this was pointless. I turned to walk away and froze at the words he said in response. My vision went fuzzy, my ears rang, and the world around me seemed to slow.
I couldn’t tell you what time it was, what room I was in at this point. What day was it? I couldn’t remember a single detail of that moment. All I remember is being afraid to turn around. Being afraid he’d repeat those words that I must have heard incorrectly. He doesn’t mean it, does he? He said it in a moment of rage, in a moment of frustration at me walking away, done with the fighting. If he meant it, everything changed. I don’t want change. I hate change. If I stayed frozen like this, it means I can stay in this exact point in time, right? The exact moment before I turned around and my world shattered like that window from my childhood, leaving jagged pieces and scars that may never fully heal. If I don’t turn around, then its not real, right?

Writing prompt courtesy of Promptuarium.

Getting to know myself better.

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Long ago, I spent hours upon hours a week writing. Not just random blogs rambling on about the horror I thought my life was at age 16, or how cute the new boy I was dating was (plot twist, he was a jerk), but poems and stories and lyrics that I poured my heart into. Some of them, looking back, are INCREDIBLY cringe. Some I still look at fondly. Some were shared back in my Myspace or Xanga days, and others never saw the light of another’s computer backlight. Regardless of whether they were shared or not, I found that I understood what was truly on my heart a bit better after I wrote, and it was a self discovery tool I often miss.

This new section of my site is dedicated to me getting back to my creative roots. Some of the things I share here will be older writings, and some of it will be new. There will be a sub section for writing prompts that I’ve been stockpiling for a couple years now (I will make sure to link the source, which will OFTEN be a lovely site called Promptuarium, as I get their prompts in my email daily!) In case you struggle to find it, you can find that page here. There may also end up being other subsections further down the road, depending on what I decide to post. This is just the starting point!

I’m by no means a bestselling novelist, so please be kind. If you enjoy them, great. If not, that’s okay too. That’s the beauty of artistic expression, even when using written word as the chosen medium at the moment. Whether you like them all or not, I hope you enjoy getting to know me a little better through a different kind of sharing.

What was that? A wild POST appears!

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I’m one of those creatives who has a LOT, and I mean a METRIC BLEEP TON, of ideas. Its the only way to describe it, though in my mind that word rang VERY loudly. So imagine my brain, (which just tried to spell that word as “brian”) on a daily basis with all these ideas. They sound great. I want to do them immediately. Then, I break back to reality to discover its 9:56 a.m. on a Tuesday and my daily check in meeting is about to start. Mental note to work on that idea later.

Rinse. Repeat.

If you could see my home studio, you’d understand. It looks great, until you look closer. Upon further inspection, you’ll find a large repotoire of projects started, and then promptly set aside because I found another I wanted to do. Or, I was terrified of messing it up, and never even bothered to start. That happen’s a lot. I promise I’m getting better with this.

So, you’ll understand when you look at this blog and see that it hasn’t been updated since March. I promise you, I think of it daily. I think of all the amazing things I could write about. The creative writing pieces I could create and post and share. The projects I could do, and then talk about, post on Instagram, and share with the world. I genuinely think about this on the daily and still very much want this.

I recently participated in an event (socially distanced, masked up, and thoroughly doused in 70%+ hand sanitizer on a regular) that seriously rekindled that fire I needed under me bum. Its been a rough year for everyone, but that’s a story for another day, another post. For now, I’m focusing on the good it has brought.

This year has brought a lot of life lessons. A lot of reformed goals, re-realized dreams, and a whole lot of wine, if we’re being honest. How else would I deal with the massive cluster this year has been? Dying my hair blue and purple?

My rebrand was meant to be a launching point, but it never quite launched. I guess there’s no time better than the future… er present. Or, is it past…?

Reverie Castle Studios. A castle full of sweet memories that you hold dear. That’s what my brain will always be. (Yes, BRAIN. You’re spelled BRAIN. Not brian, get with it. And who’s Brian?)

So hi again! I hope you still like me, you’ll be seeing more of me on this site. And this time, my hair matches 😉

Cleaning out my closet (literally)

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I’ve told what seems like a million people about this little online/app obsession since I started, and I’m probably not going to stop any time soon.
A little background for you: I used to work at my absolute favorite retail spot until 2015. They offered a killer discount, so I ended up with a TON of clothing and accessories. I absolutely love the items I purchased in the 4 years I was there, but some of it just isn’t me anymore. Not to mention a lot of it doesn’t fit, or isn’t something I can really wear on a regular basis. Its sad to see the items sit in a closet and not see the love they deserve.
When I say a lot of clothes? I mean like I probably had about 50 dresses, 30 tanks, another 20 tops, plus another 20 skirts… plus more. I could have clothed a small army of really edgy teenagers. They would have looked great.
I tried the usual Facebook sites and such, just wasn’t getting what the clothes are worth to me. While I did try a couple other apps, and I just didn’t like them much, or seem to catch on.

Enter stage right:
Poshmark website app logo

This app/site is amazing. Not only is it a fun way to get rid of some of your old wardrobe and make some extra cash, but its a great community. As an added bonus, you can shop some great deals on there from some absolutely wonderful sellers. Personally, I’ve been selling on Poshmark for about 2 years. I’ve made enough to help pay bills and introduce some new pieces to my wardrobe. I’ve also found some really great gifts on there.
If you’re not looking to sell anything, but looking for brand name items for cheap? Seriously, checking it out. You can like all the listings you want, get notified when the seller drops the price, or they can offer private discounts to users that like the item.

Bundle discounts are a thing, too. So if you see a few items in one closet you’re dying to have, you can add them all to a bundle, only pay one shipping price, and the seller can offer you a discount for buying more than just one item from their closet.
Keep in mind, that when buying from Poshmark, you’re buying from private user on the site. Just like using Amazon, check out the sellers before purchasing. I’ve yet to have an issue, but other people have.
I’ve sold a lot of items that will have new homes to love them, and I’ve purchased some of my new favorite articles of clothing on there. I even found my fiance an identical replacement for his favorite winter coat last year (at a fraction of what it cost brand new, in pretty much new condition!) I’m always working on my closet, and since using the site I’ve become a Posh Ambassador so that other Poshers know my closet is legit 😉 Its also improved my item photography game quite a bit. As with anything, the better the item photo, the better chance it has to sell!

Want to check it out?!

If you have any questions, I’d love to answer them. Check out my Poshmark closet here, and if you want to sign up, follow this link to download the app on Google Play (use this one for App store!), and use the code MEGTOR. If you sign up using my invite code, you get a free $5 credit!

Please note that I was not paid in any way to write this, I’m just sharing something I love. Its a great way to make some extra money, clean out your closet, or refresh your wardrobe.

22 and Clueless

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Looking back on things you wrote years ago is a funny thing. Some of the pieces you find create instant nostalgic vibes, some of them make you laugh at yourself, and some of them are just straight cringe and you immediately want to burn them/delete them from existence. (For some of my current or past writings that I didn’t completely hate, check out the creative writing category of my blog here.)

I recently found a blog post I wrote when I was 22, and just considering starting a blog. This piece is actually what made me decide on my original domain name, 22andclueless.com. After some research, this domain is owned by Stephanie (and her adorable cat, Kate) and is a new blog about mental health and her life journey. No, I don’t personally know the new owner, but oddly enough, the direction of her blog is along the lines of what I had in mind when I owned the domain.

The front page of what is now 22 and Clueless. I like her tagline and enjoyed her first post, so I thought I’d share.

I still stand by what I wrote, and I think its still relevant even years later as I navigate adult life, so I thought I’d share the thoughts that 22 year old me wrote with you all. Feel free to laugh at me (well, with me. I’m definitely laughing at myself!) Also, feel free to comment and share what the hardest lesson you learned when you first moved out was.

Life at the Age of 22: 22 and Clueless

Unless you know something that I don’t, learning how to “survive on your own” as a young adult can be a rather trying process. A fun one, I will admit, but trying nonetheless.

When you move out, there’s suddenly so much more to do. On top of the standard bills, groceries, mail, and trying not to forget to feed the cat, (or feed yourself, for that matter…) there’s more that you have to do on your own that you realize you never really thought about.

There are a lot of lessons you kind of learn right away. These are my top 5.

1. Food doesn’t just appear.

Okay, so maybe I didn’t just learn this. But I didn’t realize how time consuming the whole food thing is. When you get home, a home cooked dinner isn’t waiting. You actually have to make it. And unless you plan on eating out of a box for the rest of your life, its a little more complex than just throwing something in the microwave. It takes chopping and mixing and measuring and sometimes, a rather extensive (and expensive) grocery list. Basically, unless you plan on starving yourself, search for some “quick, cheap, and healthy” recipes. You would be amazed at the plethora of recipes available online if you’re just starting out.

2. This place is WAY dirtier than home was.

Not that I thought things cleaned themselves. Besides those fancy ovens (yeah, don’t have one of those.) Its amazing how dirty a place can get so quick when you don’t have a mom who cleans it, or tells you when you need to clean something. Or a younger sibling who’s forced to clean it as a chore. Be prepared to wield a sponge and spray bottle a little more than you did with your assigned chores. I really hope you’re not afraid of cleaning a toilet, either. Otherwise, a rude and smelly awakening is coming, and quick.

3. The shampoo doesn’t refill itself.

Remember when you were almost out of toothpaste one night after you brushed your teeth, and in the morning there was a new tube waiting? For some reason, that doesn’t happen when you live on your own. You actually have to remember to go and buy the things you need. There’s no magic backup bottles of shampoo and conditioner under the sink. Bars of soap don’t seem to last quite as long. Oh, and the milk? It expires sooner than you thought it did. Might want to add that to the grocery list we were just talking about.

4. My TV stopped working.

Dad isn’t around to fix things, tell you what exactly is wrong with your car, or move the couch out of the way so that you can vacuum all the dust monsters that keep appearing. Yes, I said monsters. Those things are NOT bunnies. Suddenly, the things that were so easy to do because you had help, aren’t so easy anymore. I recently discovered that when you dye your hair yourself, your neck ends up a little more pink afterwards than when mom helps you. Not really sure how to prepare for that one.  My neck is still pink though…

Prioritizing daily tasks have become far more important than they used to be, don’t you think? You realize now how much you took for granted when you didn’t actually have to do it, or you were given direction on doing it. How much you were used to having around, how much your siblings did around the house, or maybe just how much mom and dad did for you while you were still living at home. Which brings me to our 5th and final lesson for today:

5. You no longer have a human alarm clock

You wake up and look at the clock, only to realize your alarm clock didn’t go off/you slept through it, causing you to oversleep. Now,  you’re supposed to be clocked in, in 10 minutes. So you jump out of bed, dress yourself, brush your teeth so your breath no longer smells like a small animal slept in there overnight, and fly out the door. On your way to work, you make a mental note to make sure your alarm will fully function from now on, or will be a LOT louder. These things seem much more important when you don’t have mom to open your door and yell “BETTER GET YOUR BUTT OUT OF BED OR YOU’RE GOING TO BE LATE!” Suddenly, you remember her saying something along the lines of “What are you going to do when I’m not there to make sure you get up?” and realize she’s been right all along.

Uh oh…. What other things has mom been right about…?

Getting Organized: Planners 101

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When you’re trying to do the adulty thing and be more organized, sometimes it requires a planner. A lot of people prefer to use their Google Calendars (you should see my boss’ Google calendar. Its remotely terrifying to look at), a lot of people prefer to have it all written out. I’m in between these two groups of people. While having your Google calendar constantly reminding you of your schedule is nice, I love the idea of a physical planner. I can write myself notes, write in appointments, make to-do lists, and who doesn’t love color coding?!

Pros and Cons of Planner Types

The problem is, there’s like 10 bazillion different planners and planning methods available. It might sound like I’m exaggerating the number, but I’m honestly scared that its not an exaggeration. I’ve tried quite a few, but in comparison I’ve only tried a small portion of what’s available.
I’m a creative person. I’m crafty; I LOVE making things my own. A big con to this is that I’m a perfectionist when it comes to projects. I want perfect, I want to do it ALL. So I learned after a few tries, that a planner that I had to put any work into setting up or making pretty, was a really bad idea. Don’t get me wrong, I loved it! But when you take more time making your planner look pretty than you do actually filling it in, it might be a problem. So, simple might be better.
The other issue you run into, is price point. There are some absolutely gorgeous planners out there! But, some of the “designer” planners cost me 1/10th of a paycheck, and that is so not okay in my book. I’m ballin’ on a budget, and I can’t fathom spending my ice cream money on a planner. The thought hurt my soul.
So I compiled a mini list of a few of my planner experiences, as well as links to find them if you want. If you have any suggestions, I’d love to hear them! After all, what’s a creative-but-trying-to-be-adulty gal to do without a new planner to try next year?

The Happy Planner: Create 365

I LOVED THIS SYSTEM. Its so fun to make different themed layouts and put all the stickers in the boxes. Since it uses a specific ring bound system, you can add and remove pages as you want and it makes it super customizable, though it already comes in a variety of themes. You can even make your own cover! It’s a great set up, and there’s an entire community surrounding it. It makes getting inspiration and ideas for layouts super easy.

I stopped using this system because I was having way too much fun (and taking way too much time) making the layouts. However, I still follow a few Instagram accounts who post content using the Happy Planner, and love seeing what people come up with!

Bullet Journaling

I probably liked this even better than the Happy Planner because it was 100% customizable to my needs. You just get a grid dot notebook and create your layout yourself. For me, this was a LOT of fun and took less time than the Happy Planner did because I would overthink it less. Plus, you can make it as decorative as simple as you wanted. I got a lot of my inspiration for my bullet journal from Pinterest. There’s a basic system you use by creating yourself a key, and an index, and then you can add whichever features you want. One of my personal favorites was a habit tracker, like this one.

Habit tracker used in a bullet journaling type of planner. Habit trackers allow you to track daily activities.
You can add whatever “habits” you want to a habit tracker. I added things like making sure I worked out, took my vitamins, ate breakfast, or posted to my blog!

I used a bullet journal for a full year until I decided to try something different and a little less time consuming, but I still love the bullet journal planner method.

Erin Condren Planner

The Erin Condren planner isn’t one I personally used, but a close friend did and LOVED it. It offers a really nice hourly layout, as well as a weekly, monthly, and yearly spread. It also comes with fun stickers and you can choose from an assortment of colors and themes. That’s always one of my favorite parts about picking out a new planner! The Erin Condren planner is one that I couldn’t bring myself to shell out the extra money on, but its still definitely on my list of planners I want to try. They do offer a petite planner now as well if you want more of a cross between structure and a bullet journal type vibe. They also have a few niche planners for wellness and budgeting, which I always think is a plus to have.

The Bloom Planner

The planner I currently use is one I found on Amazon, The Bloom planner. I chose this one this year because it offered a lot of the same features that some of the bigger planners offered, but in a smaller size and nicer to my budget. The fact that it offered more than just schedule planning, like goal setting was also nice. I did wish it had an hourly view like the Erin Condren planner, but for the price point its at I couldn’t complain too much.

When looking for my next planner before choosing the Bloom, I did a lot of comparison shopping. You have to find something that works for you. Make a list of all the things you need from a planner, if you have to. Maybe you have to have that hourly layout (looking at you, students!), or maybe you need a bunch of extra note spots for all the lyrics in your head. Maybe you really need a pocket sized planner. Its a personal thing. I’d love to hear what paper planners you guys are using or suggest! After all, 2020 isn’t all that far off.

Or maybe, you’ll choose to just stick with a Google calendar, and create one to rival even my boss’ absolutely insane calendar. If you do, all my positive vibes are being sent at you. You’ll need them.