My Pride

IMG_1034-In Honor of the victims in Orlando

My pride lives in my heart for my best friends who I am so lucky to have in my life. The friends that this horrid event have me missing more this week than this little post could ever convey. The past couple of days I had moments where I actually felt guilty feeling as bad as I did. Guilty since I didn’t have any direct relations with the victims of the Orlando massacre. The truth is that I very much do. My happy place, and the most fun friends in the world are in the gay community. I can’t stop thinking about how this could of been us. These friends of mine are people who have become family, travel partners, roomates/neighbors, and a reason I have fulfilled so many of my wildest dreams. My heart hurts for the attack on the essence of who they are. When I lived in NYC, I had a girlfriend actually tell me that the reason I was single at the time, “was because I only hung out with the gays”. The happiest place on the planet for me, and some of the best memories of my life have been in their presence. I always feel the safest out running the streets in their community and have danced, laughed, and partied in pure bliss until the sun came up (numerous times). This massacre has really pissed me off, and it has brought me to a point for the first time where I am ready to fight for what I believe. Try to find a way to make a difference. I will be creating a movement with my new business, The Kadie Way LLC, where we make a stand against hate. Details to come! Choose, LOVE; not HATE

Kadie

Check out my photo video I made @: https://flipagram.com/f/qtpSub6tAt

 

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Road Runner

Seal Point Bay

I grew up a runner so I made sure to wear my best running shoes in this picture. A neighbor even nicknamed me, “road-runner” since I had a habit of going out for a run as early as age six. I’d be running away from home, running away from my fears, and today I still find myself running from anything that doesn’t make me feel good about myself. Now that I have found a place in my life for my physical practice of yoga and I am a certified yoga instructor, I have created a nice balance to the workouts I have always loved. This pose, and this picture show not only the things that I love but also the beauty of who I am.

Believe in YOU

Believe in YOU

It doesn’t matter if someone else believes in you or not. It doesn’t matter if someone doesn’t like you, or if you don’t like someone else. It only matter’s that you believe in yourself. Believe that when you have negative emotions, or negative reactions to someone else’s negative, that there is a lesson to learn in that situation. Try to look inside and mirror that back to what the universe is trying to tell you. Why is it you feel this way? Why do you care what other’s think? Is this showing you something about yourself? Love yourself enough to honor this discovery and to explore the answers to your emotions. The only way you will grow is if you look inside. Not inside your neighbor’s walls but inside your own head. People will want to see you fail. Why would you care? How does that benefit you in the slightest to focus on that? Keep going. Keep failing. But get back up for yourself and learn from those mistakes. Learn how to grow and how to accept your own truth.

Believe in YOU

 

 

Bravery

bravery

“We don’t develop courage by being happy every day. We develop it by surviving difficult times and challenging adversity.” -Barbara de Angelis

I am going to ask you to set an intention towards your biggest dream. See it there in front of you and think about what it will take from you to accomplish it. Drop all your fears, shut out the noise and all judgments. Plan to jump over any assumed hurdle, and even if it is just for one second, believe in it. Take a deep breath in, and know that you are stronger than you think. Now, take a deep breath out exhaling out any left over doubt. Make a change today towards your biggest dreams, and ask for the strength to take on all of your best intentions. Say how you feel, but be mindful that afterwards it might be uncomfortable. If you aren’t happy where you work, leave the job you hate to ensure that you love what you do. Make a timeline for your next adventure so that it will refresh you. Keep working hard. Dig into your passions, and revisit them often. When there is love available, cherish ever moment with every ounce of your heart. Stand up for things that matter, don’t settle, and never apologize for whom you are. Be where your feet are and remember you are never going backwards. Today, I am asking you to be fucking brave.

Friday at Hu Kitchen

Hu Kitchen

Friday at Hu Kitchen

When I give myself the time to mentally assess the fact that I am no longer a resident of New York City (after almost three years of living the dream) it makes me a little sad. I run through the usual thoughts in my head:

-“I haven’t even accomplished everything I wanted to accomplish!”
-“There are so many things I’ve never even got to check of my bucket list!”
-“I didn’t even get nearly enough time with my friends and family that I moved here to be closer too!”
-“Damnit, does this mean I have to change my domain name to my blog dreamsmadenyc.com?”

These same common thoughts crossed my head this morning after waking up with regret of how late in the morning it was when I was finally getting out of bed from my girlfriends lower east side apartment. I crashed at her place after wine night since I moved out of my Upper East Side apartment at the end of September. For the rest of October and November I will be commuting into my old neighborhood where I still run a store but unfortunately I no longer have my own place in the city. Friends have let me stay at their apartments to make it easy on me the nights I work late, or days where there are only eight hours between my shifts. The decision to commute into the city from my fiancé’s hometown in New Jersey for my last two months working in the city was made to save money as we prepare to alter our way of living. I will be in Costa Rica for most of the month of December for my 200-hour, yoga teacher training and then we will be moving to California to start our life together. A year round warm weather community is where we need to live so that my best friend, my fiancé, will be able to pursue his career as a professional golfer year round. At the beginning of 2016, we will spend our one-year anniversary driving our belongings’ and dog cross-country to the west side. So, as annoying as the commute and transit has been, I know it will all be worth it when I remember the goals we are crushing and accomplishing by this current plan.

Strolling down St. Marks Place with a latte in hand that I picked up from a coffee shop lined with several professional hipsters typing on their mac pros, I over heard a father-son tourist duo walking ahead of me. Map in hand, and in a very as a matter of fact tone, I hear the father recap the outline of plans he had for them as see the city that day. “We will start at this breakfast place in Union Square, then we will head to, short pause as he looks down at his map, Midtown! Then, we will hit up Time Square, Rockefeller, and after that we will go to the record store on Bleeker. I mean we don’t have to be at the show until 8 tonight!” Hearing this made me smile while it brought me to memories of similar visits before I was a resident with my mother and sister. Like them, we also had jammed packed days, and plans to see it all in 24 hours. Continuing on behind them, I also headed to one of my favorite NYC eateries in Union Square. I was inspired to make my own plan for the day so that I could at least cross off a few things that I felt like I needed to get done on my writing goals. I choose to sit in a favorite corner of mine at Hu Kitchen, which is a high quality restaurant and market that holds a vision to provide a destination where you can eat and live deliciously. I first heard of Hu Kitchen about two years ago when I was invited to meet, Arielle Haspel of Be Well with Arielle, to discuss new ideas of a career path in a time where I felt very stuck. I did similar soul-searching after she took the time to meet with me regarding my passions and idea’s I had about fashion, yoga, and writing. For an hour, I spoke about my hobbies and my life experience and it helped me realign my direction of my original plans for myself when I first moved to New York City.

I wrote down what goals I had so I could review what I had accomplished in the past three years in New York. I felt the need to realign them and see where I stood for my last month with easy access to the city I love. I wanted to find love (check), I wanted to write more (check), I wanted to be challenged (double-check), and I wanted to become a yogi (check). As my time in my “dream city” runs out I was convinced I also had to change my domain name to the blog that will continue to house my life stories and plans. I thought to myself, “I can’t live in California and host a blog with New York City in it, can I?” As I was handed my fresh steamed bowl of quinoa topped with vegetarian chili and fresh basil, I was asked if I was vegan. Since being vegan is my next “Me goal” for this last month before I go into extensive training, I smiled up at him and said, “I’m trying to be.” I knew I had my answer to what my new domain name should be after convincing myself I needed to change. I was Born in PA, raised by my great- grandmother in Southern Florida, moved to New York City to find my dreams, and followed the love of my life to California. It makes no sense to change the name when this blog has gotten me through all of that. As I was gathering my things getting ready to leave Hu Kitchen, I looked up and ironically spotted Arielle chatting with a women at the juice bar taking notes as she had at ours, and ensured I stopped over and filled her in on my newest “Hu inspired” plans. Therefore, you can all continue to follow me here: Dreamsmadenewyorkcity.com

TGIF EVERYONE!

Kadie

Almost Thirty

Almost Thirty

From a very young age I have always been a writer; I just haven’t always been writing. I made a goal to myself a couple of years ago to have my first book published by age 30. unfortunately, in a couple of weeks I am going to be thirty, and I am not ready to publish my book yet. What I did well as a young writer was freely write exactly and whatever was in my thoughts or top of my mind. I did not worry about what others might think if they picked it up and read it and everything I wrote down was raw, unedited, and straight from my heart. My elementary diary entries give me a variety of different emotions that I truly hope I can accomplish in my current early thirties writings. Some pages are full of stories and statements that make me laugh out loud, and other pages and entries quickly bring me to tears.

There were sections of story telling were I told my readers about the 4th grade dance and what boy I was crushing on that moment, there was a goals section where not only did I write out my “request” but I came back around and logged my results. One of my personal favorites was my “update section” which was ultimately my very own gossip column where I updated the relationships in my life as well as other relationships that were going on with my classmates. There was a prayer section, (which is often the section that can make me cry) where I would ask God to listen and grant my prayers. I asked to please make Granny well when she was sick, I asked God why Granny did not like me anymore, and I asked him what would happen to me when Granny died.

The flow was not exactly right when connecting one thought, or story to the next but it doesn’t seem to stop anyone I share it with from wanting to read more about what I was up to. Clearly there was no plan as to what I was going to do with all of these writings but I didn’t care about that. I just freely sat in my room and wrote about what I was going through, how I was feeling, and how everything going on in my life was affecting me. These diaries have been a great gift to myself as I jog my memory of past events in my life to continue my story but most of all they are a reminder to not worry so much about what comes out and to just write.

Making the decision to finally move to the big apple the winter after I turned 27 was a goal of mine that was not only going to bring me career success, love and happiness but I believed the move would help me get further along in my writing. If I were to come back around and currently “update” where I am now it would be that I have come a long way and have a lot of inspiration to write about.

When I first started NYC I could not touch my toes, I was in a lot of financial debt, I was heartbroken, and I was scared shitless. Although, I moved to Manhattan with a job, I did not move to the Big Apple with a big savings account or a clear financial plan. I kid you not: The 12-foot box truck that drove all my furniture and belongings from South Florida to Manhattan, the gas for my car to follow, the renter fees, apartment fees, lease-breaking fees, food and any miscellaneous moving supplies were all paid out of a $1,500 budget I had at my disposal. I’d be lying if I said my Nan didn’t stick a few bills in my pocket, and that my wonderful friends and family did not help me over this hump. I was showered with gifts, gift cards, and so many blessings and words of encouragement, but it still remains one of the top most anxious, and scariest times in my life. I questioned myself daily on my decision to move when I was experiencing such financial burden and so many weeks I had to stretch thirty dollars to feed me and transport me through one of the most expensive cities in the world. I truly believe it was only possible for me to do because of the experience and learning’s of my meager youth. Tuna fish, carrots, tomatoes, bananas, and mac & cheese, were my go-to budget food items, and with any leftover money I would buy myself a bottle of wine to keep me company as I wrote in my journal thoughts and goals to get out of this mess.

My first apartment at the Ritz was located in midtown and was SO BEAUTIFUL! I was lucky enough to get this “hook up” from one of my college best friends who previously lived in this apartment and was smart enough to hold onto it (and its rate) by sublet like myself. From my bedroom you could walk out onto a balcony twenty-nine floors high that overlooked Times Square to the left and Hell’s Kitchen to the right. The one side of my room was pure window, and I had beautiful wood floors where I propped my Gaiam yoga mat in the corner next to a standing mirror. This yoga mat placement, although I was still not a yoga practitioner, was placed with intent for the sanctuary I was trying to create in this stressful, fearful time. I will never, EVER forget the beauty of the city lights from my room and how I could sit out on the balcony and, if only for a second, remember to be proud of myself. I started to have visions of doing yoga gracefully on my Gaiam mat outside my large glass windows, and these visions started to become reality when I took out my mat one afternoon and turned on my yoga DVD. What was different this time around is that, after the first week, I didn’t stop. In my free time, I started Googling and searching YouTube for different yoga tutorials that I hoped to practice on my own.

After the first three months, I started to get a little more financial security as well as more knowledge of ways to spread my money more evenly and even save money. The first thing I did when I had a couple extra dollars a month was research and purchase a gym membership that fit my budget. With all of my fitness classes, I always wanted parts to be like ballet or hip-hop, and then I started to mix in yoga classes. No matter how hard it was to convince myself to go to class and be the “beginner” that I was embarrassed to be, I cannot recall one time that I did not feel an amazing sense of anxiety relief. I am always very thankful that I made it to my classes, and I always remind myself how thankful I am each and every time I practice because it has NOT been easy to get to this point of my yoga career. The goal I set in August 2013 was to at least make it to one yoga class each week, and that goal has evolved into a habit of searching for a yoga class to attend almost every single day. Spring of 2014 I was feeling pretty darn good, but not exactly where I wanted to be and the universe must of known that. In a blink of an eye the universe switched the ocean tide and forced me to seek a new way out when I was fired from my fancy high paying Manhattan job. Worried about my rent, scared this meant I would have to stay in the relationship I wasn’t happy in to survive, and that I had failed were more reasons I needed more yoga. With the extra time on my hands I have given myself my first and well-deserved yoga challenge and incorporated daily practices with my freed up time.

Two weeks before turning thirty, I can touch my toes, I have finally achieved control of my finances, and writing is apart of my weekly routine. I have signed up for my yoga certification, and my yoga practice affects my everyday thoughts. It is how I am choosing to live my life. It is a way a perfect stranger can relate to me, and unlike when I was younger, I am fully aware that it is the best way for me to deal with any inner bullshit that is begging to come out. Every day in class, I learn something new about my body and about the different ways I can get myself into different positions. It frees my mind in such healthy ways, and keeps me from more of the drugs or booze I might have looked at to ease my mind in the past. It releases the hurt, the uncertainties, and gives me so much hope like nothing else in my life has been able to. Anytime anyone is going through anything difficult in life, I often think to myself, “they need yoga”. Inhale good shit, exhale bad shit. Yoga has helped my decisions in my career, my writing, my relationships, and most importantly my health and self-esteem.

Just get on your mat- Namaste!

Chapter 2

My Way Out

“She was fierce, she was strong, and she wasn’t simple. She was crazy and sometimes she barely slept. She always had something to say. She had flaws and that was ok. And when she was down, she got right back up. She was a beast in her own way, but one idea described her best, she was unstoppable and she took anything she wanted with a smile.” R.M. Drake

I have always struggled with being comfortable in my own skin, which has kept me from letting other’s into my world completely. It has been a struggle for me to be truthful about what is truly going on in my life and how that something is tearing me apart inside. I met yoga for fitness by DVD form one Christmas break where I was stuck in a college ghost town as all of my peers ran home to their family safety nets. I was looking for a little relief from feeling down about staying in town to work all three of my jobs. I marched myself to the store bout my first Giam brand yoga mat and was certain I would find some peace. When I think about hard times in my past and relate my younger self to who I am now I have pinpointed that my way of internal healing has always been the yogi way. On my own, I picked up habits that to this day have saved me from teetering down the wrong path, or perhaps spending millions of dollars visiting a shrink. Feeling lost, seeking more love, and crying for hours alone were obstacles I over came from practicing my inner yoga. To date habits such as: reading and writing, running, and meditation have been the most consistent and healing hobbies in my life. I loved getting lost into different stories about different people, and creating new endings as I wrote, “to be continued” short stories to my classmates about my family pets. It helped fuel my imagination and create dreams I wanted to accomplish so that I could live adventures like the one I created and read about. Consecutive first place medals in the girls mile run as well as being one of the quickest on both the track and cross country teams was the outcome to many afternoons I spent running as far away from home as I could get. When the yelling and the screaming became too overwhelming in a household full of conflict I would sit Indian style in the back of my closet and mediate my way out into my very own, much happier place.

I’ve always wanted to be a writer; I just haven’t always been writing. I made a goal to myself a couple years ago to have my first book published by age 30 but in a couple weeks I am going to be thirty and I am not ready to publish my book yet. What I did well as a young writer was freely write exactly and whatever was in my thoughts or top of my mind. I did not worry about what others might think if they picked it up and read it and everything I wrote down was raw, unedited, and straight from my heart. My elementary diary entries give me a variety of different emotions that I truly hope I can accomplish in my current early thirties writings. Some pages are full of stories and statements that make me laugh out loud, and other pages and entries quickly bring me to tears.

There were sections of story telling were I told my readers about the 4th grade dance and what boy I was crushing on that moment, there was a goals section where not only did I write out my “request” but I came back around and logged my results. One of my personal favorites was my “update section” which was ultimately my very own gossip column where I updated the relationships in my life as well as other relationships that were going on with my classmates. There was a prayer section, (which is often the section that can make me cry) where I would ask God to listen and grant my prayers. I asked to please make Granny well when she was sick, I asked God why Granny did not like me anymore, and I asked him what would happen to me when Granny died.

The flow was not exactly right when connecting one thought, or story to the next but it doesn’t seem to stop anyone I share it with from wanting to read more about what I was up to. Clearly there was no plan as to what I was going to do with all of these writings but I didn’t care about that. I just freely sat in my room and wrote about what I was going through, how I was feeling, and how everything going on in my life was affecting me. These diaries have been a great gift to myself as I jog my memory of past events in my life to continue my story but most of all they are a reminder to not worry so much about what comes out and to just write.

Making the decision to finally move to the big apple the winter after I turned 27 was a goal of mine that was not only going to bring me career success, love and happiness but I believed the move would help me get further along in my writing. If I were to come back around and currently “update” where I am now it would be that I have come a long way and have a lot of inspiration to write about.

When I first started NYC I could not touch my toes, I was in a lot of financial debt, I was heartbroken, and I was scared shitless. Although, I moved to Manhattan with a job, I did not move to the Big Apple with a big savings account or a clear financial plan. I kid you not: The 12-foot box truck that drove all my furniture and belongings from South Florida to Manhattan, the gas for my car to follow, the renter fees, apartment fees, lease-breaking fees, food and any miscellaneous moving supplies were all paid out of a $1,500 budget I had at my disposal. I’d be lying if I said my Nan didn’t stick a few bills in my pocket, and that my wonderful friends and family did not help me over this hump. I was showered with gifts, gift cards, and so many blessings and words of encouragement, but it still remains one of the top most anxious, and scariest times in my life. I questioned myself daily on my decision to move when I was experiencing such financial burden and so many weeks I had to stretch thirty dollars to feed me and transport me through one of the most expensive cities in the world. I truly believe it was only possible for me to do because of the experience and learning’s of my meager youth. Tuna fish, carrots, tomatoes, bananas, and mac & cheese, were my go-to budget food items, and with any leftover money I would buy myself a bottle of wine to keep me company as I wrote in my journal thoughts and goals to get out of this mess.

My first apartment at the Ritz was located in midtown and was SO BEAUTIFUL! I was lucky enough to get this “hook up” from one of my college best friends who previously lived in this apartment and was smart enough to hold onto it (and its rate) by sublets like myself. From my bedroom you could walk out onto a balcony twenty-nine floors high that overlooked Times Square to the left and Hell’s Kitchen to the right. The one side of my room was pure window, and I had beautiful wood floors where I propped my Gaiam yoga mat in the corner next to a standing mirror. This yoga mat placement, although I was still not a yoga practitioner, was placed with intent for the sanctuary I was trying to create in this stressful, fearful time. I will never, EVER forget the beauty of the city lights from my room and how I could sit out on the balcony and, if only for a second, remember to be proud of myself. I started to have visions of doing yoga gracefully on my Gaiam mat outside my large glass windows, and these visions started to become reality when I took out my mat one afternoon and turned on my yoga DVD. What was different this time around is that, after the first week, I didn’t stop. In my free time, I started Googling and searching YouTube for different yoga tutorials that I hoped to practice on my own.

After the first three months, I started to get a little more financial security as well as more knowledge of ways to spread my money more evenly and even save money. The first thing I did when I had a couple extra dollars a month was research and purchase a gym membership that fit my budget. With all of my fitness classes, I always wanted parts to be like ballet or hip-hop, and then I started to mix in yoga classes. No matter how hard it was to convince myself to go to class and be the “beginner” that I was embarrassed to be, I cannot recall one time that I did not feel an amazing sense of anxiety relief. I am always very thankful that I made it to my classes, and I always remind myself how thankful I am each and every time I practice because it has NOT been easy to get to this point of my yoga career. The goal I set in August 2013 was to at least make it to one yoga class each week, and that goal has evolved into a habit of searching for a yoga class to attend almost every single day. Spring of 2014 I was feeling pretty darn good, but not exactly where I wanted to be and the universe must of known that. In a blink of an eye the universe switched the ocean tide and forced me to seek a new way out when I was fired from my fancy high paying Manhattan job. Worried about my rent, scared this meant I would have to stay in the relationship I wasn’t happy in to survive, and that I had failed were more reasons I needed more yoga. With the extra time on my hands I have given myself my first and well-deserved yoga challenge and incorporated daily practices with my freed up time.

Two weeks before turning thirty, I can touch my toes, I have finally achieved control of my finances, and writing is apart of my weekly routine. I have signed up for my yoga certification, and my yoga practice affects my everyday thoughts. It is how I am choosing to live my life. It is a way a perfect stranger can relate to me, and unlike when I was younger, I am fully aware that it is the best way for me to deal with any inner bullshit that is begging to come out. Every day in class, I learn something new about my body and about the different ways I can get myself into different positions. It frees my mind in such healthy ways, and keeps me from more of the drugs or booze I might have looked at to ease my mind in the past. It releases the hurt, the uncertainties, and gives me so much hope like nothing else in my life has been able to. Anytime anyone is going through anything difficult in life, I often think to myself, “they need yoga”. Inhale good shit, exhale bad shit. It has helped my decisions in my career, my writing, my relationships, and most importantly my health and self-esteem.