Published April 28, 2014 by moderndayprincess94

Recently, I received a job offer. At first, I was almost glad. My family was sending me off to this, after talking me out of grander offers. This was decent, and higher paying, but less of an adventure. I sucked it up and decided I’d take the job.

Receiving the paperwork, my heart leapt into my throat. “No Cell Service”. I realize this is a first world problem, and as a teenager, I accept that. But there was only one person I talked to daily. And it was through a cellular device.

My friends soon set up a “goodbye day”, where we would simply have fun. I wasn’t privy to the plans, and it was all a grand surprise for me. My friend picked me up, and when I asked if I’d see my other half, she sighed, “No, he can’t make it”. I tried desperately to hide the look on my face, but my entire demeanor changed. Was I going to say “goodbye”?

The next morning, I even attempted to be a Peeping Tom, but she hid all of her phone conversations away from me, “No Kenzi, it’s a surprise!“. I huffed and ate the breakfast she made me.

Soon, she took me to a small amusement park, and we stood by the gates, “They’re almost here” she announced. At this point, I almost didn’t care who was coming. It wasn’t him, so what was the point? I crossed my arms, doing my best to stay my usual chipper and bubbly self. She pointed to a grey truck that was parking, but I couldn’t see anyone behind the tinted windows. As soon as he got out, I was in his arms, “You lied to me!” I mumbled to my friend against my love’s neck, “He did come!”. I heard her laugh, “Had to get you two together before you left!”.

The day was spent with an almost constant hand hold, or hug, or any sort of contact. Laughter swirled around us as we went from the amusement park to the mall (where he lost me to the Disney store…). I followed him happily, a lovedrunk puppy. But I had to keep pushing thoughts away.

“You’re going to have to say goodbye” my own mind reminded me, “And it’s going to hurt”. I ignored the thoughts, and banished any of “going”. I was in this moment, now, with him. I even snapped when someone asked why we were putting off leaving when there was no point to, “Because this goodbye is for six months!”. They’d expected the hurt, but not my anger. The grip on my hand got tight, holding me here as everyone got quiet. Letting us continue with ignoring the future.

But the time soon came. My friend and her half went inside the truck, leaving him and I outside in a parking lot. Immediately, the overwhelming feel of the “goodbye” blanketed me. I couldn’t quite breath, and my grip on him seemed to be the only thing holding me here.

“Hey,” he said quietly, but before he could continue, I wrapped myself in his arms, “You’ll write, right?” I choked. I’d told myself not to cry, but that plan was failing fast. He held me close, “What?”

“Y-You’ll write, r-” but I couldn’t get ay farther, the tears overcame me. His grip on me got significantly tighter, as if he could stop the tears. Most times, he could. But now?

“Hey,” he whispered against my temple as he rubbed my hair, “Shhh, it’s okay. It’s okay”.

“I don’t want to go I-” I argued before I was over come again, and I heard his breath hitch, as if he was going to cry also.

“Shhh, no. Listen to me” he whispered, his voice gentle. I hiccuped, listening with my head against his chest so I could hear his heart also. “You’ll d so great at this. You don’t want to go right now but you’re going to love it. It’ll be okay”.

I wiped my eyes, taking deep breaths along with him, “A-And we’ll write?”

I felt him chuckle, “Of course, if you can read my awful handwriting!”. I laughed, hugging him close to me for a moment more.

“Hey,” he whispered again, a smile in his voice. I looked up at him, and felt my heart swell. Somehow, I knew. We could do this. We could make it through this easily. He is my other half, he is my soulmate, he is my one. I kissed him, pressing myself against him. A future played behind my eyes – A kiss years from now, at our wedding, a kiss over the head of our newborn, a kiss as our son drives the car for the first time by himself, a kiss as our daughter meets her own true love, a kiss as he leaves for the day, a kiss over dinner with grandchildren, and then back to this one. A kiss as a promise.

Yes, we are young, and maybe I’m looking far to into this. But I somehow know. I blend with him as I do no one else. We balance each other out. And maybe, maybe God just kinda likes cowboys and angels. . .


Running Away

Published March 26, 2014 by moderndayprincess94

I’ve decided

To run away.

How easy to begin

And start a new day.


Goodbye Mother,

Hello sanity.

Goodbye cruel thoughts

Hello self  acceptance vanity.


No longer shall you,

Hurt my heart.

I’m making a change,

I’m making my start.


For this time,

I’m walking away.

And you can’t stop me.

Not today.


I won’t come back,

I’m finally free.

I’m not your perfect daughter.

I’m finally me.



Hold My Hand

Published March 13, 2014 by moderndayprincess94

At nineteen, I don’t hold anyone’s hand besides my prince. Why would I?
I found out last Sunday.
I am faithful to a God, but had never been to a church. Living now with my uncle and his family, I’ll be going to one every Sunday. I was excited, but fear gripped me.
Would they accept me? Was their God, the same as my God? What if they saw something wrong in me? What if we disagreed? What if,  what if, what if?
Getting into the coach, I had the overwhelming need for someone to hold my hand. To prove I wasn’t alone. To help me through this. But who was going to do that?
Strapping my three year old cousin in, she smiled at me, “We’re gonna go to church!”
“Yes” I agreed, the anxiety evident in my voice, but not to her young ears.
Or so I thought.
As we started down the road, she took my hand, “Hold my hand, Kenzi” she said, “It’ll make you feel love”. She refused to let go.
So I entered a church, holding the hand of a princess who knew what God and church was about.

Coming Home

Published February 26, 2014 by moderndayprincess94

For the longest time, Ive wandered. Ive  had no sense of direction on where “home” was or how to find it.
And then I met him. The guy who was nothing like the handsome prince I’d always envisioned.
A football player? Ugh! Not a perfect track body? As if! And. . . Yet.
Something about him pulled me in. Things were so easy with him. There was no need for fake identities or forced laughter. We spent hours talking late into the night. And soon we were together. I cant tell you why, or how. It simply happened.
I found out about “home” the first time we kissed. Our first actual date. Taking back roads after spending too long on the freeway. Singing at the top of our lungs to country music. Seeing the way he looked at me when I did something absurd.
But it was a stranger who justified it all. We were standing in a line, myself happily tucked into his embrace after observing my first college football game. The stranger laughed, “There’ll be plenty more games”.
The game hadn’t even been on my mind. I honestly couldn’t have cared if we won or lost. But it hit me then –
I was home.
He is everything to me. Even when he decides I have to be logical. Or when he makes me utterly furious.
I can always find home with him.

~ Your modern day princess

The Closed Door

Published February 16, 2014 by moderndayprincess94

When I was small, my father would close himself in his room and I would sit there, knocking quietly, “Daddy? Daddy, please let me in”. With no answer, I’d simply stay there for hours. Days. The entire visitation.

When I got older, I closed my own door. My family didn’t understand why. They couldn’t see in to the tears, the skipped meals, and the ever so gentle cutting of my own skin. I would cry out for help in the middle of the night, to have no one here.

On April 6th of 2012, I slammed the door shut as I balanced an armful of pill containers in my arms. No one was home, but the door needed to be closed for one more moment alone. I swallowed every pill and laid myself down to die. Rascal Flatts sang to me as my body grew clumsy and heavy.

Suddenly, I heard the words of “Stand” come through the fog. And in my mind, I pictured a future. New York. England. Travel. The door was open to me and I was attempting to close it. 

It was that moment my life changed. The door that I’d closed was cracked open. And after two years, it is still open. Occasionally, it will slip closed. But you can’t just “get rid” of depression. It’s a constant battle. A battle I am winning. 

I graduate in ten days for a school devoted to travel. I will soon be off, opening the doors to this world. I opened the door of my heart to another lost soul, and together, we’re opening doors of love and trust. 

In the movie “Frozen”, which I adore, they say that “Love is an open door”. I agree, but have to add that so is Life. 

Never close your door. Leave it open to the chances I know are coming you way.

My door is open, come on in.


Published February 16, 2014 by moderndayprincess94

Sometimes, I wonder if the memories will go away. If I’ll forget you completly. If I can hear a song and not have it feel like a stab in the chest. Or a slap across the face. If I can look at little girls holding their daddies hands and have this flood of emotions. If I’ll ever go to a family gathering and someone won’t mention how I’m like you.

What am I gonna do the day you die? It’s going to kill me. I’m going to break and I’m not sure anyone can fix it. Will I go to the funeral? Would you want me to go? I am still your daughter. . .

I tried for a long time not to be. To deny it and push you totally out of my life. But you always found a way back. You’re not here physically, but everything I do, I wonder what you’d think or do. What you’d tell me? How you would look at me?
I wonder about you all the time. What you’re doing. How you are. If the drugs have totally taken everything I knew that was good in you. If you remember when you grabbed my hand in the car and I wouldn’t let go. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and just reach and reach and reach and you’re not there. I hate that that still happens. . . I always end up sobbing. It’s pathetic.

I wonder if you’re proud of me. If you even know anything anymore about me. I overcame depression after a suicide attempt. I wear a six in womens, and still have to shop for sandals in the kids section. I love to paint my nails. I want to work in the travel industry. Apparently I’m really small in size. I’m 5’4″ and 115lbs. I’ve never done drugs. I really love music. And Disney. I wear a purity ring. Cause I don’t want another little girl begging for daddy to come back and he just walks way.

Yeah, I remember that. . . You probably don’t.

Not sure why I’m writing this. Just getting feelings out, I guess. I’m not good at it in any way. I’m awful with confrontation. I get all shy and scared and awkward.

Of course, I’m just really an awkward person.

Sometimes, I miss you.I hear “What Hurts the Most” and sometimes I still cry. It just came on now. Really sucks cause I know you probably don’t even remember you sent it to me that day. And I remember every single time. And. . . It still hurts. A lot of the memories and stuff still hurt.  

I hate that you still give me feelings, I go from mopey and sad to angry to not caring to bawling my eyes out.

You torture me, daily

Simply, a Rant.

Published February 16, 2014 by moderndayprincess94

Roommates are horrid. Especially mine! They’re rude and inconsiderate and loud and partiers and peasants! Peasants in my kingdom – if only I could banish them.

Instead, I’ve been confined to my room. I slept most the day away. A horrid headache and heartbreak were my companions. Why? I slept wrong last night, which explains the headache. As for the heartbreak, I suffer with depression, my great grandmother is soon to leave us and on top of normal day to day stress, it was Valentine’s Day. Which my wondrous prince forgot. And I admit, I was ungrateful and pouted most the day. But soon, I realized that being angry at him wasn’t making me feel any better. He realized he’d forgotten and apologized, which was very helpful. 

I’m awful at being angry. Especially with him. He’s naive and forgetful and sweet as can be. He’s everything to me. 

Sigh, I really should head to bed. It’s 11:51pm. 

Good night, my dear kingdom, I shall return from my visit to the land of Dreams shortly-

The Modern Day Princess