Do not go gentle….

This weekend was not one of the best weekends for me. It’s not that anything bad happened in particular, it was more that I had a deep sense of melancholy.

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I thought back on the past few years, the adventures that I had, the friends that have now become strangers and the sense of life that used to burn through my veins.

 

I had so much life in me. I had so much to look forward to. So much to live for.

What happened to me? What happened to that woman I used to be? The one who would say yes to any adventure, the one who never say no to trying something new…the one who could laugh so loud and so much that tears streamed down my face and my stomach hurt.

I lost her somewhere along the way. In between working and stress and trying to stay afloat I completely lost myself. The essence of who I am.

A warrior. A fighter. A woman who does not let the world get her down.

 

But I have let the world get me down. I have let work become my life, I have let stress rule my life and I feel like I am carrying the world on my shoulders.

I left so much of what made me happy behind. I stopped exercising  because of my health (heart, depression and anxiety)  and because I could no longer afford it. I left going to Temple because all I found there was fake people living empty lives. I left so many friends behind because I knew they were not good for me…

And what have I become? A loner? A recluse? A wolf with no pack?

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I want it back! I want my life back! I want to live a quality life…not this shell of a life that I am living right now.

The word “Warrior” was a word many people used to describe me…but I no longer feel like I am worth of it. What have I fought? What have I concurred? What difference have I made?

I used to make a difference…I used to be this strong, independent, Amazonian woman. I used to be a wild woman who ran with wolves.

Who am I now? I can’t remember the last time I went on an adventure. I can’t remember the last time I truly laughed. I can’t remember the last time I really felt strong.

 

This made me think of a poem by Dylan Thomas, “Do not go gentle into that good night”. Not because I am dying or anything, but because I want to fight again. I want to fight for my life again. For my happiness. I deserve a quality life, a good life… a happy life.

Not this. Not this that I am living right now. I will get through this darkness, I have done it many times before and I will do it again.

I just have to start. And it starts now.

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“Do not go gentle into that good night”- Dylan Thomas

“Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

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Some life lessons…and random thoughts

This post was going to be one about honesty and lying and how we find it so difficult to be honest. And it is still going to be…but I have come across so many other ideas that I feel I need to express and that have been sitting with me for a while now.
So, call this a life-lesson blog entry. Or a random brain fart entry. It is yet again one of those things that I need to write in order to get it out of my brain.
I need to do that every now and again when things get too crowded in there.
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Firstly, I heard a comment on a show I was watching yesterday: “Whats so complicated about being honest?”

As simple as this question sounds, it is layered with doubt and insecurity and is actually quite complex.
People lie. It is what we do. We lie to save face, we lie to protect, we lie to hide…we lie on a daily basis.
I am not talking about massive, life altering lies and if you have, then the lie must have protected a hurt or your damaged soul to have told such a lie and to the receivers ” Before you cast the first stone , look within your own closet for skeletons. I am talking about those little white lies that are so quick to form and so quick to be dispensed. One can almost understand and justify why we lie to others, but what gets me the most is that we lie to ourselves. We tell ourselves lies about ourselves on a daily basis. We tell ourselves that we are okay, that we are coping. We tell ourselves that we deserve to be treated the way that we are. We try and justify our actions through lies. Why? Why would you lie to yourself? It is probably the most damaging thing you can do to yourself! Because, in all honesty, you are hurting no one but yourself. And if you look at it that way… doesn’t that make you want to think twice about how you see yourself and your life?
I am guilty of this. I lie to myself all the time. I tell myself that I deserve to be treated like shit. I tell myself that I am not good enough to go after my hearts desires. I even tell myself that if I’m lied to, cheated on, it’s okay because I’ve lied before, it’s what I deserve…
There are so many things that I lie to myself about… because it is easier. It is easier to face a lie than what it is to deal with the truth. More often than not, the truth is harsh. It hurts and it is like a slap through the face. Stupidly enough, one of the things I have been passionately lying to myself about is that I am okay with being alone. That I am okay with being single and that I don’t want to be in a relationship.
Telling myself, I deserve the scraps of  that, so called relationships of my past have been thrown my way…What a load of bull!
I deserve the best kind of relationship. I deserve to be with someone who loves me, accepts me for who I am and who is proud of me.
Proud to have me in their life.
I don’t want to be a little secret. A occasional time-filler. I deserve better than that.
That is also why I am now going to be very honest with the people in my life. I no longer have time for people who don’t make time for me.
I am tired of going out of my way for others when they don’t even give me the time of day.
People who make plans and promises and then cancel? Sorry…you’re out!
People who only contact me when it is going bad with them? I am not your psychologist.
I have people in my life who are actually in my life. People who have stuck by me and who I have stuck by, through thick and thin.
They are few, but they are quality. The rest…well the rest I am no longer going to even make an effort with.
I was promised so much by “family/friends” only to have them cancel on me because something better came along… that’s not right. And that is a lie of love for your family and a friendship.
Another thought that I wanted to write about is that of life and living and all that fun stuff. I don’t want to die knowing I did not live.
We get so caught up in work and relationships and commitments and stress that we forget to do the one thing we were created to do: Live. Even as I am writing this I know that I am guilty of this. There are moments in my life that I can say I have truly lived. But they are completely overshadowed by my absolute fear of life. I am so scared of taking that risk and doing what it is that I want to do, that I freeze and accept that this is as good as it gets. This can’t be as good as it gets. Because if it is then I demand a refund. Living paycheck to paycheck, barely making it by, constantly being broken down by people who are “superior”… They never experienced what you have been through or going through,  so you must have asked for it?!?
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Is that life? Is that how its supposed to be?
I understand that we all need to make a living. I understand that not all of life can be an adventure and extreme and fun. But what I do know…is that this is not the be all and end all for me. I deserve more than this.
I have been dealt blow after blow after blow the past few months and I am really getting sick of it now. All I am asking for, is one good thing to happen. One ray of sunshine that can light the way. I know I am a fighter and I know that I will get through whatever is thrown my way…but it would be nice if what is thrown my way is something positive.
Don’t get me wrong, I am by no means wallowing in self pity about the way things are. I mean, I have some pretty amazing people in my life and I have a lot to be thankful and grateful for. Its more of a…if I can just get a leg-up.
Just that little boost, then I can get out of this final layer that I have been stuck under.
I am ready for new challenges, new adventures, new opportunities. I know I have so much more to give. I know I have so much more life in me!
Fuckin’ hell! I have been through hell and back and I have come out on top and I am damn proud of that. I know I am strong.
I know I am a fighter and I know that I will conquer anything that comes my way.
But even a fighter needs the war to end some time. My war has been going on for long enough. So…even if my last ray of sunshine is simply that it catches the last of …light…and that lies and pain of my past have stolen my identity, my self and caused havoc in my life.
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Letting go. That will already be like a burst of sunshine.
I guess what I am trying to say is: Be honest. Not only with those around you, but with yourself as well.
It is scary as hell and you will probably be met with resistance and rejection and who knows what else.
But you will also be met with gratitude and respect and unexpected awesomeness (of this I am convinced).
Live. Even if all you do is take 5 minutes a day to do something that you absolutely love to do. Those 5 minutes of selfish enjoyment can go a long way.
De clutter. Remove the people in your life who suck the life out of yours.
Stop making excuses for people.
Stop giving them second, third, fourth and fifth chances. They don’t respect you or your time.
So why should you bend over backward to accommodate them when it is convenient for them?
Never stop pursuing the life you know you deserve. Never settle for mediocre, the good enough or safe… Don’t let fear rule your life.
Love. the people you love with all that you have.
And tell them that you love them.
As much as you can.
You never know when you wont be able to anymore.
Appreciate the small things. A perfectly made cup of coffee. A crested Carolina Wren singing outside your window.
A sunset after a hectic day at work. The feeling of waking up at the crack of dawn and pursuing your passion before the world starts to wake up. Dancing around to your favorite song without fear of looking like an idiot. No one looks stupid when they are doing something that they love.
Don’t be afraid of looking like an idiot! Try that new sport. Dance to your own beat. Sing as loud and  horrible as you can.
Tell someone how you feel. Embrace your inner child. You will be surprised how many people are out there…just waiting for you to come out and play

What is it, Asshole Day ?

Today started off normal enoughactually, it started off pretty good. Besides the fact that my Achilles are killing me and it took me a half hour just to stretch them enough to be able to get out of bed.

But it started off good….its Sunday, its been a busy week so the week has flown by and I was feeling pretty damn good. Stressed, but good.Then it seemed like the shit just went ape shit and hit the fan. Not going to go into details, but it has been a rough day….and its not even 1:00 p.m. yet!

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In short, I have broken down into tears about 4 times today. Been crapped on by one person and made to feel like an idiot by another.

I hit a point when I was sitting on the bus coming back from work at the casino, where I seriously considered just not going back to work. Just to fadeand then when asked where I am my only reply would be: “I quit.” Not because I want to, but because I am sick of office politics and games and miscommunication and wellat this point just everything.

It is as if all the little things throughout the week have added up and came crashing down on me all at once. I have been without my at home glasses after the contacts are out for the week because mine have grown legs and walked away, so there’s that and the permanent headache that you deal with when that happens.

My body has this new trick where it feels like I’m about to pass out /fast heartbeat on me randomlythat’s always fun. Especially in peak customer traffic. Great times. I love being sworn at for something I cannot control.

Also, apparently I am quite stressed about the fact that in a week I am going to have my MRI read to let me know if both of  my Achilles need to be cut open and cleaned out which will result in me being in a wheelchair for 4 weeks. That’s fantastic

Today I am feeling sorry for myself. I am mad at myself. I am feeling all the cracks and they hurt like a bitch.

I hate that I have to go through something this big again on my own. Sure, I have people around me who are very supportivebut there is just something about actually having someone special in your life who you know you can count on being there. To look after you, to take you to the hospital, to be there when you wake upand then for everything after that. And feeling like this makes me so mad! I have to scramble to make arrangements, I have to suck up my pride and ask people for help and hope that they don’t turn around and see me as a burden, a nuisanceI don’t ever want to be that to anyone But I guess that is what I am right now. I mean, I have no other options.

Today is not a good daybut I will make it betterI will suck it up and deal with it. Like I always do.

When is this whole, “Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” thing going to start paying off? Have I not gone through enough? Am I not strong enough now? How much more am I going to have to take? How much more am I going to have to break to be this invincible being that can take anything? When am I going to stop crying? When does it get better?

Because seriouslyI have had enough. I am tired of struggling. I am tired ofthis. This life that I try and make better, but then get kicked back down again. I am done.

Maybe I just need to take a few breaths, enjoy weekend and just focus on one thing at a time. Obviously my silver lining is still hiding behind the storm. It will come out at some pointbut for now, for now I don’t want to have to pretend that I am okay and that I am strong and that I have my shit together.

I am not okay. I am not strong. My shit is all over the place!

But I will get through this day and the next and the next and the next and if I just keep goingI will claw myself out of this hole.

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Life Lessons or Mistakes?

 

 

I am weak and strong…

There is something that I would like to get out in the open…Something that I really want people to understand completely.

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I am not strong. I am not this tough, can-do-everything/don’t-need-anybody person that everyone seems to think that I am.

I shudder every time someone tells me that I am strong, that I can handle anything thrown at me and that when things do happen to me that its all okay. Because I am “strong”.

I am everyone’s shoulder to cry on. I am the person who gives advice, who picks up the pieces. The person who is always there for everyone else. But, heaven forbid that anything should happen to me! For example, this 3 year nightmare that I have been in since my sexual assault. I think everyone thought that I handled this with grace and humor and strength. Why? Because that is the face that I showed them.

Truth? I have felt like I have been broken down into the smallest of pieces. That big chunks of me have been ripped from me. My inner peace, my sanity, my dignity…all gone. But what do I do? I smile and make a joke of it. Then everyone thinks I am strong. Then the illusion stands where everyone goes, “Oh its okay, she is okay, she is strong. She can do anything.”

Truth? This was almost, if not on par, with when I was in Denver. Except, when I was in Denver they expected me to cry and be weak (not for too long though, oh please, please not for too long). Then I moved to Las Vegas, I have noticed that people don’t know what to do with me then. Its like…when I show weakness, they have no idea how to handle me and either then just ignore it or smother me with the words: “But you have gone through so much already this should be a walk in the park,” “Chin up, you are a strong cookie you can do anything,” and the best one is where they just don’t say anything and make like you don’t exist.

This has been hell. These 3 years have been hell. I am not someone who asks for help and that is probably why I got myself back up after being knocked down so quickly. I hate asking people for help because they all kind of get that look of: “Oh shit she wants something, she usually doesn’t ask for help.” Now to be fair, not everyone was like this…but I still got bombarded with the fact that I am a “strong” woman. And yes, I am. I have gone through enough terrible things in my life to know that I do posses a certain strength that most women don’t have. But…if I want to be weak, even just for a second, can’t you just allow it? Allow me to cry. To be upset. To feel pain. To be angry. To be scared. Just let me feel something other than the cold hard word “Strong”.

I am exhausted. I am fed up. I…I am done. Funny thing about being a woman…people don’t see you. All they see is, “Weak, Emotional Female !!!
Must not be strong, independent, it’s not normal!” This in itself gets to me…partly because I have realized that people have become so bad at having any form of sympathy toward someone who is even the slightest bit different and partly because I am used to being strong and therefore noticeable. Not in a vain way, please don’t get me wrong. I am simply saying that I am confident. Not just for a woman, but for anyone in general. Even the act of asking for help has been an eye opener.

There is this vibe around me that kind of feels like people are waiting for me to be back on my feet, less quite, less fearful, so that they can treat me like they used to. They physically do not know how to speak to me. So they ignore. Don’t get me wrong, there have been people who have gone above and beyond anything that I could ever have imagined and for that I will be eternally grateful!

Again I don’t know. I think I just need to be back to the old me, with my overly confident, no filter, tell you how it is, mind your business and keep the fuck out of mine, old self.

Pre-Solutions for 2015

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When it comes to new years and new year resolutions I am the absolute worst. I hate making them, I hate hearing about people making them and I hate the choices that people make when choosing what they want to change and/or do.

A few years I started with “The Year Of”. This basically meant that I was going to do one thing throughout the whole year and see how it impacts my life. There has been the year of saying yes to things that scare me, the year of always having a bottle of wine in the fridge and the year of being more selfish. All of these taught me something about life, my perspective and how you can make a massive change simply by implementing one small change.

For 2015 I have quite a list that I want to get through and things I want to accomplish/attempt. The reason for me sharing this on December 31st is because I can. Nothing deep and philosophical about it. It is simply that it hit me over the weekend that I am capable of doing so much more with my life and I don’t give myself nearly enough credit for what I am able to do. Physically, emotionally and spiritually.

When I was in hospital last year, I started formulating this idea and this dream that I feel I am finally capable of taking on. Look, being in the hospital for the sexual assault. It was painful, to feel so completely alone, the shame and it was emotionally draining and negative to me physically, mentally and you are more often than not left with a gaping hole in your being. You feel afraid of everything and you feel shame that everyone you know will think different about you and mentally/physically you are placed into a hole filled with fear/shame/loss/anger. Where was my help? No where! for 2 months, I fell in a routine of hiding in my closet and not eating/sleeping, it wasn’t till I looked into the mirror after a shower that I saw what I looked like ( I lost 25lbs ! ) So I sought out help and found very little, but those who did reach out to me did save my life, for without them, I hate to think now what I would have done.
I started to also give hope to others of sexual assault, That being said I also know there are very little help for the victim’s. As part of my healing process I donate my time and experiences and that is also helping me with my fear of the public, meeting with people I would normally not meet with. It is scary and intimidating and I feel so incredibly alone and scared and confused and my life feels very uprooted. How did I cope? I wrote, blogged and exercise. I have a laptop, so I write about everything, went to the gym and doing yoga in my apartment whenever I got the chance and whenever I felt like I might just go insane. While doing this, it got me thinking…what if I can do this for the people in places like this? What if I could bring peace/closer/help to women of sexual assault in hospitals and psychiatric rehab/counseling centers?

Let me explain why. Writing / Blogging played a massive role in my healing process from the assault. It taught me how to be stronger mentally. It showed me that I was capable of much more than I ever gave myself credit for. There is something about pouring all of your fear, pain, anger on paper or type it on a laptop or front of women, who are loaded with pain, shame and anger and mentally preparing yourself to take those feelings and your own and show them and yourself that you can push past the pain, pull yourself up or lift others in so many number of different ways. Writing is a mental game. It forces you to get out of your comfort zone and embrace the uncomfortable and the painful and the seemingly impossible.

Now for me, writing and going to the gym/yoga has helped me physically by strengthening my body, but it also helped and taught me how to control my fears and anxiety and give emotional peace my mind, my psyche. I am mentally and emotionally stronger than I have ever been. I have control and discipline over my thoughts and feelings and I have the ability to pick myself up…and I can kick ass.

That is what I want to do…I want to get certified as a counselor and then approach various hospitals and rehab/counseling facilities and pitch my idea of bringing writing/blogging from a victim to victims as a form of therapy to those who find themselves there. Still working on a name but I definitely I want to do this and looking into.

I was speaking to a friend over the weekend, and she totally inspired me to pursue this idea. She is a assault survivor and such an inspiration! We spoke about a number of subjects over the weekend, but the one thing stood out was the idea of following your dreams and passions and taking positive risks.

This is a risk I want to take. This is something that I want to work toward and something that I want to fight for. It may not happen in this year, but I am positive that it will happen. I will make it happen. That is how passionate I am about this, this is how strongly I feel that I am being called to do this.

The other thing that I want to do more of in the coming year is to do write more . My first set of poems, I finally got the nerve to send them to a small publisher and was posted on a writers blog site last weekend and I am incredibly excited about that! Writing has always been a love of mine and I think I have finally found my inner voice that I want to share. Writing has always allowed me to express myself creatively and I leave it all on paper or blog. It is like the visual/verbal outpouring of my emotions of my thoughts.

Man, I am blessed! I have been blessed with so much and I want to share it with the world! I want to do everything to the best of my ability and be able to look back on what I have done and created and be satisfied that I didn’t hold back. Not one bit.

I want to live. I want to feel. I want to experience. I want to love. And I want to do it all with a passion that burns so bright it cannot be ignored!

I know it is going to be hard work and I know that I may fall on my ass a couple of times…but I will dust the dirt off my ass, tend to the bruises and pick myself up again and makes sure that I don’t stumble over the same obstacle again.

My ass-kicking boots are polished and ready to go!

DISTANCE

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We all know distance. It can either be literal in that point A is a certain distance from point B, or it can be figurative whereby you distance yourself from a situation or a person or a feeling/emotion.

Sometimes we all need distance. And sometimes distance sucks.

I have been trying to figure out how I am going to distance myself from a few things over the past while. Its actually quite funny…I need distance from a person, a situation and an emotion. All three different distances. From different sources. All for the same outcome: Self preservation.

The person I need distance from is someone who I am clinging on to. I know I am and I know I need to stop. I am clinging to the idea of this person, to the person who I think they are in my mind. however, if I was to be completely honest with myself then I would recognize that the person I have in my mind is not the person in question. They are created entirely out of my half truths, hopeless ideas and a series of flash emotions. Now flash emotions are perfect snippets of emotional awesomeness. They escape, showing themselves to you, and then disappear just as quick as they came. They are not lasting, just as the person who allowed them to escape is not lasting. They are not these emotions, but rather, they allow them to escape to give you just enough hope.

The situation I need distance from is complicated…I don’t really know how to approach this. But I know that it is bringing me down. I can’t be surrounded by negativity. After all the crap that I went through this year, I can’t be surrounded by people who make no effort out of their own to be better and to get better and to feel better.
They are in this constant spiral of negativity, convinced that the world owes them something and that there is no hope.
Yes, I understand that life is rough and it sucks and sometimes all you want to do is scream into a pillow…but then you do and you move on. You realize that you are stronger than you were before and you don’t let your past control you. Don’t become passively alive. Relying on others to make you happy, to give you joy and to save you.
No one is going to save you. Only YOU can save YOU. Because the harsh reality is: Everyone is out for themselves. Its called survival. No one is going to give you life if you don’t take it for yourself. I am surrounded by these people who can’t let go of the past and who let their circumstances control their happiness. STOP IT!
I am so sick and tired of hearing the same sob story over and over again with one person trying to out do the next with an even sadder sob story. With my now diagnosed PTSD-Depression (Sexual Assault ’13) and finally in therapy instead of my past treatment plan of self-medicating myself with cocaine/vodka. I know what my triggers are and one of them is if I am surrounded by negativity…I am one of those people, fighting for survival, and I will do whatever it takes to make myself better and to get better. I do not want to go down that path again and I will be damn if it is due to others bringing me down. I am at a good place in my life right now. I am happy…I don’t want to be dragged down by people who only see their pain, fear, sickness, their past. Who make their pain their life. The be all and end all of everything.

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The emotion I need to get distance from is guilt. Proper guilt. For as long as I can remember, I have been made to feel guilty about my actions. I have been made to feel guilty about liking the things that I do, doing the things that I do and being the person that I am. That’s not right.

I get to chose who I am, I get to chose what is right for me and only me. You do not know my life. You do not know my whole story and you have no right to make me feel guilty about the way in which I live my life.
I always say I have Catholic guilt even though I am not Catholic but I was raised in a Catholic/Jewish Home.
My Mother was Jewish but converted to Catholicism when she married my Father. I have been made to feel guilty because of the music I listen to, the tattoos that I love, about wearing so much makeup, my taste in clothes, about liking skulls, motorcycles, about defining my relationship with God based on my personal opinions and not those of others. I know I do not fit into your perfect little box of what you deem to be right and good and proper…but I fit perfectly into my oddly shaped basket. One that is constantly changing, moving, evolving. One that will never be confined. One that will never look like yours.

This post is possibly written out of anger and frustration due to the fact that I really just want this year to end now. I am tired of working at a job for low pay/ long hours, I am tired of the office, family and/or friend politics, I’m missing someone, living in fear of the dark, and I am just plain tired. I am missing my family and wish that I could be spending Hanukkah/Christmas with them. But I can’t, because things are the way they are and I’m here. needless to say, I am not looking forward to the Holidays and would actually like it very much if it just passed by without any pomp or ceremony. I would even go as far as to say that I would much rather spend this time on my own this year, instead of pretending that everything is okay and normal.

That’s my rant for the week. Now it is off my chest, which actually feels good. Now I can breathe again.

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Love is not a piece of cake. 

That’s the lesson I am learning these days. The other lesson I am learning these days is this: when life has a lesson you are clearly meant to learn, the whole entire world shows up to teach it to you. You get reminders of the lesson in songs. In traffic signs. In conversations. In strangers. Everywhere, through everything, the world shows up to teach you good. And it seems as though life beats that little lesson into you until you hold up your hands in exasperation and say, “Okay. I get it. I’ll learn this. I won’t ignore it any longer. We good? We good?”

Love is not a piece of cake. th

Yea, that’s the lesson. And I don’t even mean that to play on a metaphor. I just mean, love is not some sugary, empty thing that looks surface-level pretty but fails to keep you full. If you keep meeting that sort of love then I think maybe you’re meeting an imposter. Some other thing dressed up and pretending to be love. Take caution, I’m no expert. I’m not someone who is going to yell in your face and tell you about the love you deserve. I’m just going to take off my own mask and finally admit it: I’ve worshipped the wrong definition of love for far too long. There was a strange kind of comfort in worshipping my own definition of love— it meant it could never hurt me, control me, surprise me or wreck me. My own definition of love let me be in charge of hurting, controlling, surprising and wrecking myself first.

Love, to me, was this script on repeat:

“Win people. Be worthwhile. Be the one that people want to love. Do what it takes to please them.”

And if someone came to me and said, “Listen, we need to borrow your definition of love. We want to print it in all the dictionaries,” then I would need to pity the world who would have to try to live inside my definition.
Because love, to me, was green eyes that stopped looking in my direction.
Love, to me, was begging to my own strength to try to get it all right.
Love to me was hearing scriptures like “love your neighbor as yourself” and laughing as I whispered, “That’s so funny. I barely even like myself.”

Love was promises we could not keep. Love was disappointment. And walls built up to keep me safe.
Love was moats around castles. It was writing notes to ghosts. It was hinging my worth on being chosen.
Love is all I ever wanted and the one thing I still feel too insecure to admit:
I don’t want it.
I need it.