Jadyn Right > Recent Status Updates

why is it that the smut took place over 4 chapters??

Maybe I’m wrong, but I felt like she liked the same emerald-cut shape sixteen years ago that she wears on her left ring finger now. There is a strangeness in the fact that I am not at the engagement party, not on the invite list or at the other end of the FaceTime, sparkly diamond and shrieks of glee flashing on the other end.

this chapter has hit home so hard and i don’t know what to do with myself

Juliet got engaged recently, to her high school sweetheart. I found out on Instagram, which is how I find out most things about her these days. This is how it is, and that is okay. As I looked at the pictures of her earnest smile, a strange memory stirred inside of me—a remembering of picking out our engagement rings at the age of ten, planning to marry the ones that got away and boys we don’t even know anymore.

Men spend a good deal of time reducing female friendship to silly and meaningless, citing women to be “so dramatic” and “so catty” and “so bitchy.” It is my belief that friendship for non–cis men is cavernous and bottomless and just deeper. Reason being, for non-men, friendship is a necessity for our survival in a patriarchal world. It is no wonder we have made and lost more friends than they have.

Friendship is taught to us through nursery rhymes and storybooks and cliché quotes. Good friends are like stars; you don’t always see them, but you know they’re always there. Make new friends but keep the old; one is silver and the other gold. True friends will be there no matter what. Girl Scouts sold me the idea that my friends at eight years old would be my friends for life.

To lose a friend is to lose a thousand reflections of your own eyes, a road map back home even when you think home doesn’t exist. To lose a friend is to lose a person, one of very few, who is only in your life because they truly like your company—not for sex or for blood or for work—but because they see you, because they have decided their world is brighter with you in it. Because you see them back.

🫠

I pretended to be fine through every heartbreak. I pretended to be fine for semesters, and sometimes even years. I am used to being the girl that is fine, and I excel at it too.

Girls need to be small. Girls need to be quiet. Girls need to be obedient and girls need to have their shit together. Girls need to survive, and survival is contingent on doing all sorts of things that almost kill you, but there’s the key word . . . almost. Starve yourself to fit into the jeans so you can wear the jeans and post the jeans and everyone will know you have those cool, cute jeans.

🥺

Funerals aren't for dead people. They're for the living.

I doubt Khalil cares what songs are sung or what the preacher says about him. He's in a casket. Nothing can change that.

“It is,” I say gently. “This is not something we can change.” There are forces bigger than the both of us at work. Sand is slipping through our hourglass and it doesn’t matter how many handfuls I grab in an attempt to extend our time. Christmas Eve is my deadline.

I wait for something to change and from the very moment I stepped out from behind her Christmas tree and spotted Harriet on her couch, things have been changing. It’s like I’ve been shoved awake, feeling returning to my limbs after lying too long in one position.

oh he's literally the ghost of christmas past

Dear Reader,

The life of an actor is hard. It requires a thick skin and an ability to take rejection in stride. It's uncertain and grueling, and it wasn't until I was preparing to pursue that life that I started to think maybe I didn't want it after all.

twist the knife, courtney!!!!! 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

Sam expects me to call him tonight. I can’t leave him waiting forever. What if he thinks I forgot about him? What if he thinks something is wrong? My heart is pounding harder than ever as a rush of adrenaline pumps through me, making it hard to breathe. I have to go find him. I have to find Sam.

put the phone down, you manic psycho

I have a lot of time to myself these days. Time to think and process and catch up with the rest of the world. Ever since my last call with Sam, I don’t find myself waiting by the phone anymore. Instead I’m spending more time with my friends and focusing on school again.

😑😑😑

"I used to live inside my daydreams" babe this whole book is a daydream

Wiping her hands, she leaves the sink of dirty dishes, the broken plate. On her way out of the kitchen she pauses in the doorway. “You know, sometimes I’m ashamed that you’re my kid,” she says.

what.

YES PLEASE

this is officially the weirdest (but hottest) romance trope i've read?? the nanny falls for the mom’s boyfriend of the kid she looks after??

I don't want to wonder if I've really made a contribution. Most people's legacy seems to come through their children.

Family-centric themes of what is normal, right, and good offer little relevance as far as sense-making is concerned for those who don’t have children. Yet many of us are called to the sacred and spend lifetimes constructing fulfilling spiritual identities. I’d like to think there’s sufficient space in the realm of the divine to embrace all those identities, especially for the marginalized.

It’s an odd idea for someone like me to keep a diary; not only because I have never done so before, but because it seems to me that neither I—nor for that matter anyone else—will be interested in the unbosomings of a thirteen-year-old schoolgirl.

🥺🥺🥺

joe is so down bad for beck it's crazy

the second-person POV is weird

Life at Ikea is not like life at Ikea in the movies.

And all the while, I have to be vigilant. I slick my hair back one day and wear it shaggy the next. I must go unnoticed by the people who don’t notice people.

Why do we smile? Why do we laugh? Why do we feel alone? Why are we sad and confused? Why do we read poetry? Why do we cry when we see a painting? Why is there a riot in the heart when we love? Why do we feel shame? What is that thing in the pit of your stomach called desire?

my copy only has 224 pages, and the copy on goodreads is 586 pages??? i feel like i'm missing things on my end. also, who is bonnie? where did she come from?

these two men would literally never survive in the real world

You won’t remember, they say, when someone drifts away. One minute you are talking about life’s greatest adventures and listening to mixtapes on Monday afternoons, and the next their presence is replaced with silence: a fragile nonexistence with nothing else to lose. But I will always remember our drift. It took up all this space, like a planet with many moons. It was the year you forgot my birthday.

this. book.