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I made a mistake tonight.  After a long day of work, I sat down and opened Instagram. My husband, seated next to me, was still working. As soon as I opened the app, the mindless scrolling started. The scrolling that’s meant to be relaxing but rarely ends up relaxing my mind. After double-tapping a post or two, my eyes fell upon a video shared by Abby Wambach and Glennon Doyle. If you’re unaware of who these two rockstar women are, I encourage you to do a little research.  One is an Olympian and former professional athlete (along with other really cool things), both are bestselling authors, both are incredible activists.  They’re also a married couple. Like I said, rockstars. Really relatable couple for comparison, right? HA! The sound wasn’t even playing on my phone, but I  watched their talking heads bob around my screen for a moment. Before I could even catch myself, a single thought shot across my mind.. “I wish we had an Abby Wambach and Glennon Doyle marriage”. Insane, I KNOW.  Then, I did something I immediately regretted. I looked at my husband of 5 weeks and said,  “I wish we had an Abby Wambach and Glennon Doyle…

No, you don’t have to have everything figured out.  It was April of 2013. I was weeks shy of walking across that big stage to accept a diploma and celebrate the completion of my undergraduate journey. Graduate school was definitely not part of my plan come fall. All I wanted was to read a book for my own pleasure, hang out with my friends on a beach, go to some new bars, and chill for the summer. I was a college graduate. My plan up to that point was complete and the big grey abyss would cause significant anxiety if I thought about it too much. I was terrified and excited and so very ready to be DONE. Your early twenties are a strange and beautiful time. You’re kind of an adult but still kind of a kid, mostly trying to figure out who you want to be. You’ll watch your friends begin their first “grown-up” jobs and get married. You’ll use words like adulting to describe the steps you’re taking to full independence and think about things like a 401K and benefits packages. You’ll be making plans to travel the world and get a few more years out of…

Do you ever feel like the days are long but the years are short? Does is seem like someone pushed fast-forward and you forgot to pay attention to the things that really mattered? Do you feel constantly distracted and pulled in too many directions? I want you to imagine a stress-free moment for yourself.  A moment of stillness and quiet. There’s nothing you need to do; you can simply be. What’s the first thing you do? Pull out your phone to distract yourself?  Nearly everywhere you go, you can find something to look at to distract yourself from the life in front of you.  Screens that distract you from the emotions you’re avoiding and the people standing right in front of you. Instead of thinking for yourself or doing a little research to formulate a better opinion, you can read the words shared by someone else and tap a button to support.  Instead of cultivating gratitude for the life you have, you can open an app and easily find reasons your life is not good enough. This is just how it is, right? We’re all distracted now. This world we’ve created is filled with disconnection and we all have to…

I wanted to be a priest when I grew up.  Seriously. I wanted to lead a church and support community members as they navigated their faith. It was my dream to break the bread and serve the wine. That is, until my mom informed me that women couldn’t be Priests. “I can’t do what I want just because I’m a girl?” Ludicrous. I like to think this was the moment my feminist passion was born. My early years of faith were shaped by the Catholic church. I was raised Catholic and learned to carry that infamous Catholic guilt so many intimately know and live with. It was important to my parents, so I did it.  My faith, however, was not inspired by or fueled by the teaching of that particular church. Sunday mornings were typically a long, arduous drag until we finally got to eat breakfast. The Priest would stand in his pulpit and I’d zone out for the duration. “Can we bail at communion?” My Dad was never particularly thrilled with that question.  At my confirmation, the Bishop came and delivered a message that is burned into my memory: “To all the young men here today”, he said, “you’ll…

As a little girl, I once asked my mom why there were so many songs about love. It seemed like every song on the radio was about some relationship gone wrong or some guy singing about  some girl. As a child, I was less than amused.  Now, as an adult, I get it. That “love” stuff is, well, life-altering. Attempting to find love, falling in love, falling out of love, or watching your love walk away changes everything. I can confidently say I’ve been in every one of those positions. It’s an emotional rollercoaster from the beginning. The worst being the feeling of heartbreak. When my long-term relationship ended and I watched my former significant other walk away, I felt absolutely powerless, hurt, angry, confused, and desperate to get him back. 4 years later, I thank God the relationship ended. It was the best thing that could have happened to my 20-something self. I grew into a stronger, better, more confident version of myself in the days that followed (see my last blog for more on this). Unfortunately, the initial days of that break-up looked like something akin to Elle Woods laying in her bed watching horrible soaps while stuffing…

My relationship sent me to therapy. Actually, two romantic relationships sent me to therapy for radically different reasons.  I thought the first was love. I really did. 2 years of sacrifice, of learned silence, of negotiation within myself as to why I should stay.  He said he loved me, and I’m sure he did. He loved the version of me I’d transformed into over the time we were together to keep him around. I’d learned how to silence the voice that said I wasn’t happy, to put his desires before mine,  and his priorities above mine. If he said he only had one night to give me each week, I’d find a way to make that okay. My only goal was to keep him. If he didn’t want me, who would?  Slowly but surely, I let myself drift away from myself. That’s what surprises people most when I tell them about that time in my life. For someone who is such a proud and public feminist, I let any semblance of equality and partnership in that relationship turn into a single-party system of power and control. He had it all – and I’m sure that’s why he loved “me”. He…

30 days in December, 1 task for each day. Sounds easy enough, right? Take what you like, leave what you don’t. Challenge yourself by stepping outside of your comfort zone to be thoughtful and reflective – especially when your inner gremlin starts speaking up! 2020 is nearly upon us: make this the year you put intentional actions before habitual actions. Days 1-10: Reflection 1.Write down 1 thing from 2019 that made you feel proud of yourself. This doesn’t have to be a revolutionary or dramatic change you made; It’s just one thing that made you feel proud of yourself 2. Write a thank you note to someone in your life for all they’ve done to support you. 3.Share your favorite picture from 2019 and explain why it’s your favorite! 4. Send a text to express gratitude or make a phone call. Write a thank you note to yourself for the last year. 5. Write a thank you note to yourself. 6. Think of one thing that changed for the better this year. Write a quick journal entry about it. 7. Reflect on 1 thing you’d consider an “absolute win” from the last year. Share on your social. 8. Write down…

“I hate her” “We hate her” They chuckled together, like the shared disdain for one human in particular created a bond. They felt comfortable standing in that statement. Or, at least comfortable enough to say those words at a higher volume than they should while in the middle of the jewelry section at Target.  I kept sifting through the earrings in front of me. I cringed as I overheard the conversation. My nose squished, my shoulders lifted a little closer to my ears, and I felt my body lean away. These five young women, presumably college students getting ready to return to class, were discussing their plans for football attire while tearing down another girl. It was simultaneously painful and infuriating to listen to.  “She talks about everyone like she’s better than them. We don’t like her anymore.”  The irony was missed entirely. The figurative pot called the kettle black, and they didn’t even realize it. They were doing the very thing they were criticizing this girl about, while trying to make themselves feel better about it all by throwing “we” into the sentence. It created the worst kind of “me too” moment while engaging in a toxic pattern –…

A few years back, I went to a new year’s goal setting workshop. My nerves were higher than normal as I walked into a room of strangers and found my seat. There were only about 7 women in the workshop, but it was enough to feel the shared desire for change upon entry. It was a perceptively exciting fresh start to a new year. It was 2017.  In the middle of the table, sat a bucket of small rocks and an assortment of markers. “Oh here we go” I thought “we’re going to have to write something on the rocks aren’t we…. How much did I pay for this workshop again?”. The cynicism I felt had already taken root and the workshop was barely underway. Yes, I, Cammy Nelson, had one foot out the door in a personal growth workshop before it even had a chance to begin. Maybe you’ve been in those very shoes, yourself? I picked my rock from the group. Per usual, I wanted something with a color in the blue family and a soft texture. Something that didn’t offer much resistance. I wanted to be comfortable with the way the rock felt it my hand. I…