Since we’re getting REALLY close to Christmas, I thought there might be a few of you out there still struggling with gift ideas for the travel junkies in your life. I…

Guys, I killed at LEAST a dozen trees for you. Writing a book was one of the easiest and most enjoyable things I've ever done. Oh. Wait. I forgot it's against the rules to lie on my blog. Okay. How about this: writing a book was one of the most excruciating, exhausting, demoralizing, and seemingly endless things I've ever done. Yeah. That's more like it. There are so many people who work for ages on their books. Jenny Lawson spends several years on hers, and I have ridiculous respect for that. I wrote mine in 3 weeks. I wrote the entire first draft in 3 fucking weeks. I do NOT recommend this. I was so bogged down by previous obligations and obsessing over potential (and I was convinced- inevitable) failure that most of the time beforehand was spent mentally sorting out the content and wondering if this was going to be the worst thing ever published. It still might be. No promises. Now I'm officially 9 weeks in, I had other activists look at it... and they liked it. And maybe, most notably, it made my Mom both laugh and cry. So I guess it will probably be okay. I mean, worst comes to worst: at least people can use it to prop up a table leg. Right? Enh. Maybe. Before I started, I excitedly (and naively) prepared two super special work desks. I decorated them with plants, post it notes and highlighters... only to find that the only place I could work was on my bed. On my bed, hunched over my computer on a plank of wood balanced between a stool and my mattress. It was REAL classy. I also originally planned to break up a 9-5 work day into structured segments but I quickly realized that this was an idiotic idea. I ended up working until 2 or 3am and sleeping until 1pm after remembering that I've never been productive in the mornings. This unsophisticated process progressed and soon I was a living breathing hot mess, hidden away in my room for weeks at a time. I would work for 11 hours and sleep for 11, only to wake up exhausted, feeling like I had been hit by a truck. Or a bus. Or 20 baseball bats. Sure. That. Eventually my boyfriend started cooking me well rounded dinners every night so I wasn't purely subsisting off of Trader Joes prepackaged Asian Peanut Salads. I still love them for the record, though I was infinitely grateful that out of the two of us, he was the one with the cooking skills and time. I was also grateful that the nice people of Trader Joes stopped asking me if I was having a party and started smiling at me knowingly every time I'd check out with a cart full of salad, coffee and wine. I started taking quick drives late at night blaring Blank Space to get my energy flowing again so I could come home, switch on Lost Room and type away for another 5 hours. I still haven't figured out how 60 thousand words can take up so much time. Half way into the process I started celebrating when I shaved my legs every three weeks (it's amazing to me that rubbing a razor up and down two legs can become an insurmountable task) and I became best friends with the girl who worked the graveyard shift at FedEx; I'd crawl in there at 2 am repeatedly to pick up a printed copy for scribble editing. I also gave FedEx all my money. I typed the words fuck and fat more times in two and a half months than I have my entire life (a combined 341 times in case you're wondering) and I thanked god every day that I didn't have children because I don't know how others manage to do this when they have to take care of miniature humans. Two weeks in. Note the very functional plank: I finished every season of Covert Affairs, Agent Carter, Scandal, Arrow, Agents of Shield, Empire, Perception, Person of Interest and The Suits by listening to and half watching them as I wrote. It was the perfect way to convince myself that never leaving my house wasn't all that bad; this tactic does come recommended. I fretted over typing something that would offend someone and so I scoured my document countless times, only to remember towards the end that offending someone somewhere was inevitable. I kept my phone by my bed for my fallingasleepthoughts (those are the important ones) so I could record them and then make my boyfriend transcribe them; I only trusted him with my jumbled ramblings full of long awkward pauses. I took more melatonin than I care to publicly quantify. I read and re-read, judged and re-judged the manuscript so many times that I started to forget what the book was even about. I worried that I would say something unforgivable and be excommunicated from the body activism church. I all of a sudden wanted to write a million blog posts, clearly as a distraction technique while I tried to find the ovaries to tackle the chapter that terrified me. I wrote it and it still terrifies me. I forgot to take down my Christmas tree until March. I took the printed out versions on countless plane rides, elbowing my seatmates while trying to fix the choppy sentences. I read Brittany's post on writing and let out the biggest sigh of relief when I realized that that all of this was normal. At times I wanted to laugh at how ridiculous all of this was, and other times I just wanted to cry. I'm not saying any of this to give the false perception of humility. I felt incapable of the task so often, but there were also moments of documenting very personal stories and loving them muchly... but the doubt? Often overwhelming. I am told by other people who have done this, that it is also completely normal. I find this to be relevant: But, all of that being said, I'm forced to admit that it was also mentally rewarding, inspirational and clarifying. Writing this forced me to put things I've previously avoided into words. It helped me consolidate my thoughts and decide what was important. It reminded me that this message is critical- especially for me to remember. My passion was sparked when I read other brilliant people's thoughts on body love. It gave me the boost I needed to overhaul my presentations and learn to love them again. It revitalized my purpose. I also find this to be relevant: (via) My editor titled the book: Things No One Will Tell Fat Girls (though it's certainly relevant for all bodies) and it's going to be out this September. I'll be sure to show you the cover and tell you whats in it when we get closer (add yourself to the email list if you don't wanna miss it). I turned in my final draft for line editing on tonight, and my part is now (mostly) done. I'm so glad it's almost over, though I know I'll want to do it all over again the second I hold it in my hands. Someone told me that in that way it's like having a baby, but it's not like I would fucking know. I'll probably cry tears of both relief and extraordinary happiness after September. I'll probably show every stranger that walks by me for weeks. I'll probably make a lot of enemies from people I don't know while doing so. I'm beyond grateful for a life where I have a purpose. Where I'm somehow successful at and love what I do. That some publisher took on my proposal and walked me through the complicated process. I know I'm fortunate. And I'm grateful. Fucking tired. But grateful.

This is the *digital version* of an 11x17in. "placemat"- style worksheet that I created in order to help folks connect with what they may be feeling in their body and how that relates to what they may be needing to experience a greater sense of emotional regulation. The worksheet guides you through six different categories of emotions and offers some examples of how those emotions may manifest as sensations in the body. Underneath each list of sensations is an offering of some "needs" your body may be asking for. These categories line up with the emotion words illustrated on my emotion wheel chart, which you can also find in my etsy shop or learn more about on my website: https://www.avanmuijen.com/watercolor-emotion-wheel. This worksheet may be helpful for: - Anyone looking to get more in touch with their body and their emotional self - Therapists, counselors & other mental health providers to use with clients - Teachers & parents to use with children (or for themselves) - Partners, family members and other loved ones to use with each other Please reach out to me directly if: - The cost of this print is too high to allow you to purchase it. I am happy to explore the option of a discounted rate or free print. Additionally, if you would like to donate or contribute to a free or discounted print for someone else, please send me a note. Additional Notes about this file: - file dimensions: 3400x2200 pixels - this worksheet is best printed as an 11x17, but can be printed as 8.5x11 as well Licensing and Usage: Purchasing this license gives you permission to use this image for personal use. Please contact me if you would like to use it for any commercial or other professional use or to include it in a larger work. To learn more about this wheel and how it was designed, check out https://www.avanmuijen.com/watercolor-emotion-wheel. Please note that I am not a therapist or mental health professional. These worksheets have been designed based on my own personal explorations and healing work. Thank you for your support and I hope you are well, Abby

Mar 5, 2018

This Anger Management Poster was designed to remind students of different ways they can deal with anger in developmentally appropriate healthy and safe ways. What's Included: ☀️3 different printing options: color with frame, color without frame, and black and white. ☀️ 2 different styles ☀️ Files sized for 8.5"X 11" and 18"X24" printing. ☀️ Make Your Own Anger Management Collage Poster Ways to Use This Resource ✔ Hang poster up in your classroom or hallway bulletin board to remind students of healthy and safe ways to deal with anger. ✔ Use the Make Your Own Anger Management Collage Poster during SEL lessons about Feelings or during small groups and individual interventions when you'd like to focus on coping strategies and self-regulation.

I am back answering more questions about eczema. I had a few people reach out to me on Instagram and Facebook…

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My boyfriend is really rich — like, his family has hundreds of millions of dollars. How do I tell if I like him or just his money?

https://vimeo.com/854553357

What do you feel like having?

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I started off my writing career in print, and over the years I've been the editor of multiple magazines. I even have a book on restoring Chevy trucks

So, you all keep asking . . . What do I do with all these SCOBYs?! If you are anything like me, you have a pile of SCOBYs in a massive SCOBY hotel just waiting . . . It feels somehow wrong to throw them away when you have taken care of them and watched them grow! […]

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