Wildly Me

Wildly Me

I’ve been told that I can be too much for people. I’m an enigma; too much of everything and not enough of the right things, all at the same time.

I’ve always been labeled as ‘out of control’. I was too loud, too energetic, too boisterous, too wild, too talkative, too sure of myself, too full of myself, too childish, just a little too strange, too much of something for anyone to deal with me.

I was too much much-iness for a tame lifestyles to ever accommodate me.

I’ve slowly started to realize that this tame, plain jane, average, boring lifestyle wasn’t enough for me. I stopped trying to squeeze myself into other people’s small minded ideas of me, and I broke free of any mold.

I’m learning each day to accept the fact that I am not made for everyone, because I am too unique, weird, too out of the ordinary. I’ve learned to stop quieting my voice, stop taming my wild spirit, stop dimming my own light, and stop dumbing myself down for small minded ideas.

I’ve learned to accept that sometimes my large personality will scare people away, and that’s okay.

I was born to be different, strange, rare, but most of all I was born to be wildly ME.

M i n n e s t o n e r G i r l


About me

About me

Artist – Visionary – Content Creator


Free spirited

Wild child


Esoteric White Witch



Health nut

Plant Based Vegetatian aspiring vegan

Nature Girl

Animal Lover



Survivor of Depression and a sucidial mind

Advocate for Mental Health

Anxiety riddled



Semi psychotic

Always neurotic



US Army Veteran

Gemini – Virgo – Scorpio

Kind heart

Old soul

Midwest Witch

Country Gypsy



Self empowered woman of weed


Chronically Awkward


Intuitive Witch

Moon child

Cannabis Advocate

Creative writer

Aspiring actress

Dog Mom

Future business Owner



Forever Curious

Minnesota Girl


Ten Years Time

Ten Years Time

Ten years is a life span of time for me. So much has changed that I feel like a completely different person than the person in these photos.

I look at these photos, and wonder, Who is she?
I don’t know her.

Ten years ago I was a senior in high school. I was a below average student with a bad attitude. I lived up to every low expectation people had for me, which resulted me being a serious delinquent. I spent most of my time fucking off, cutting class, or getting into trouble to really gain any valuable knowledge my senior year. I hated school.

I had just lost my father the summer of my senior year to a sudden heart attack. This left me to grieve his loss most of my senior year. I really struggled but I didn’t offer myself any help, I ignored healthy eating habits, a sound sleep schedule, and dove head first into an alcohol problem. I developed depression and serve anxiety by the age of eighteen.

I struggle like most teenage girls did with self confidence and my self esteem, but when I think an over arching feeling to describe me ten years ago, it would be misunderstood.

I felt so misunderstood by everyone, and most times myself.

I struggled with knowing what I wanted out of life because I was struggling to deal with my mental health because I was denial anything was wrong with me. I tired to hide my pain, angry, sadness, and grief in my drug and alcohol abuse, as well as self harm. I drank A LOT and heavily. I can vividly remember trying to blackout and throw up every weekend, because, why? That was fun to me. I hated my life that much, I just didn’t realize it because I was too busy numbing. I wanted love and validation so desperately from everyone but refused to show myself any love or acceptance. I became a walking talking plain jane, country bumpkin, puppet on string, that would do whatever I thought would make me likable, attractive, desirable, loved. Every tiny attempt I made to be myself seem to back fire. I feed into my fears, instead of leaning into my faith. I hid who I was behind one painful mask.

I don’t make excuses for my past, nor do I judge myself to the choices I have made. I did what I needed to in order to survive, and I am learning each day to show myself grace and forgiveness. Ten years is a long time, and I am so much wiser, but I feel more alive today than I every did at eighteen. I look at these photos, and wonder, Who is she? I don’t know her, anymore. I am no longer just trying to survive, I’m trying to thrive.

M i n n e s t o n e r G i r l