Rosie Glow Wellness

Mind body health for the deeply fabulous


Self Promotion, Insecurity and… Supermodels?

Morning mega-babes! I’m following my own advice and caffeinating/creating before the Sun comes out. As a result of this ritual, plus hardcore dreaming, I’m feelin’ all “bring it on, universe!” I’m indulging my curiosity, connecting with like-minded bids, and trying to promote promote promote myself in a way that isn’t “slimy, sleazy or scammy.”

That last part is sort of terrifying, though. Listen, I know I’m almost unreasonably friendly; I really do walk around my city smiling at strangers; I’m always getting family discounts at Whole Foods or free undies at the GAP because I make it my mission to be bff with every cashier in Chicago; I’m an excessive hugger…ask anyone. But it’s always scary to put yourself out there, especially when your self is still in the works. I’ve watched enough Marie Forleo videos to know that when you believe in your work, there’s nothing sketch about forcing it down the world’s collective gullet (ok, I promise I don’t think of you all as one big gaping maw, but Idk… “gullet” spoke to me today.) I’m on a mission to constantly express myself and encourage other people to express themselves, too but that doesn’t mean that I don’t suffer from social anxiety or the occasional bout of debilitating insecurity. I do. Everyone does. As women, especially, we’ve been brought up to be humble and unobtrusive, and stepping out of that comfort arena invites all sorts of criticism and judgment… often by other women.

I recently watched/heard Cameron Russell’s rad Ted talk about image; the thin, white woman’s reign on the modeling industry and why young girls should pursue “ninja cardio-thoracic surgeon poet(ry)” instead of modeling. Russell concluded her smart, provocative presentation with an idea that we women already know deep down, but manage to forget in the daily process of comparing ourselves to other ladies: models are insecure. They, with the the “shiniest hair, the skinniest thighs and the coolest clothes” have to think about their bodies all day, err day. Doesn’t that sound dreadful? Can you imagine if eating too many nutella brownies was grounds for termination of employment?!

I think it’s healthy to remind ourselves, every so often, that no one loves all of their bits 24/7… I’m not just talking’ body insecurities; but relationship bits, career bits, brain bits (ick!) Life bits, yo. So just for you, here’s a short list of my insecurities. Because sharing is everything.

  • Sometimes I worry that everyone I know thinks I’m flaky, flighty and unreliable because of all that hiding/dreaming I do.
  • My apartment is usually a royal mess and, before anyone comes over, I bop around like a bunny on speed to fold laundry and shove girly accoutrements under my bed so no one can see my state of squalor. But I assure you: I’m the grungiest.
  • I like reading Self and Women’s Health even though I disagree with half of what their writers have to say. Contrarily, I haven’t read any Proust or Milton or Joyce in ages and I’m afraid that my brain is evicting knowledge of great literature to make room for facts about how to tighten our buns and where to buy the most supportive sports bras.
  • I don’t always love my skin. I wish I had a six pack, but I’d settle for a four pack. I used to be on the model train (not the same one Cameron Russell was on: mine was pretty slow-moving) but I’m not anymore and probably couldn’t be if I wanted to. I wish I could just wake up tomorrow and have long-ass hippie hair.
  • Career-wise, I’m nowhere near content. I’ve learned to trust that I’ll get there, but hear you me, it was a PROCESS.
  • Every now and then, it concerns me that my inclination towards singledom will leave me a lonely, wrinkly hag and all of my ex-boyfriends will one day band together to clink their whiskey tumblers and reminisce about the nutter they used to date. OMG what if they make t-shirts?! #hyperbolicmandrama

There’s more, too… and they’re dynamic like waves or clouds or my hair color. Yes, in general – I dig myself. Yes, I think I’d like to be my friend if I could perform self-binary fission and split in two like a girl amoeba. But I’m not confident all the time. And you don’t have to be either. We do have to know that everyone experiences self doubt… and we have to market the hell out of our work anyway. If you believe in your message; somebody, somewhere will, too.

What are your insecurities? Do they look as silly written out as mine do? Are you ready for world domination anyway?

I think you are. XOXO,


Good morning worker bees. This post is as much for me as it is for you: I like to start my weeks fresh, and in order to do so, I need to sneeze out some bad juju (say it with me now – ahju!)

The plight of the employed 25 year old is this: you need to spend 8 hours of your day – approximately half of your waking time if you’re particularly good about getting that beauty sleep – working to make dat money. You allow yourself to dream; try to believe that if you identify how it is you want to spend those eight working hours, you and the universe can send positive vibes in the right direction; and you find everything there is to love about your current work situation and love the sh*t out of it. You have to. Misery loves company – and its company of choice is more misery.

If that’s not a recipe for bad juju, I don’t what is.

There will always be someone trying to get you down. Maybe they really do have it out for you, but it’s not personal – they’re manipulating you and your situation for their own self interest. My advice on this Monday? Treat them with kindness. Perry each flaming dart they toss your way with postivity and confidence. You can’t change them, but you can beat them by knowing that their ego ain’t got nothing to do with your self worth. Keep working to make yourself happy – do what you can, where you are, and know that gaining any kind of skill – whether that’s marketing for your company or learning how to keep your spirits up when dealing with nut jobs – is a step toward your dream life. So is loving the sh*t out of where you are because happiness loves company, too: vivacity, warmth, well being, security. Stay optimistic, know that anyone who undervalues and disrespects you lacks some pretty big, important life skills and may never find the peace and contentment that you will. And breathe.

You’re young. You’re smart. YOU’RE A GRADE A HOTTIE and you can’t let the haters have their way.

Some links: for mega-inspiration, and of course, Run the World (Girls) because I start every day by watching Lady Bey. And now… I’m going to hit up the gym, love the sh*t out of my work day, and keep counting my blessings. Love, love, love and chins up!