PSA for All The Brokenhearted

I’m not typically one for country music all year long, but it’s been one of those years. Everything is happy and light and lovely, and I think that’s why I haven’t had the same hankering for alternative music this fall. Can’t complain!

Lately, one of my friends has been going through a rough time. Her boyfriend treats her pretty horribly. Long story short, he is very disrespectful, doesn’t give her any positive attention, just wants to sweep their problems (a lot of which HE has caused) under the rug. And it was just one of those painfully obvious moments of “I’ve been on the other end of this conversation before.”

I think we’ve all been there. We want to try, we want to make things work, we want things to be as simple and picture perfect as they were in the beginning. And unfortunately sometimes that’s just not the case. Sometimes you can’t work out the kinks – especially if the kinks aren’t your fault. But you think anyways that you can change the person, that things will go back to how they were.

I stood there, telling her everything my mom had once told me. “You don’t deserve it” “you’ll find somebody better who treats you right” “do you really want to raise children with a guy who treats you like this?” “trust what your family has to say about him – they’ll see what you don’t” all of that.

And oh my gosh once you’re on the other side of that conversation, you realize how RIGHT they are! And it suddenly blows your mind that anyone would settle for being treated like shit!

So I’m gonna go on a little rant:

YOU are the only person to blame for someone treating you like shit. Because YOU are allowing that person to treat you that way.

You need to know your worth. And no, no one deserves to be ignored, bullied, manipulated, emotionally or physically abused. Just because you think you love someone or vice versa.

I was in the same boat. I dated guys who didn’t want to talk to me, I wouldn’t hear from them for weeks because, rather than having a “I’m not feeling this anymore” conversation, they just figured if they stopped I’d go away. I dated guys who used me, from the bedroom to running errands for them. I tried to make things work for another year with someone who CHEATED on me. I tried convincing myself that I didn’t want a relationship just to appease these guys who couldn’t handle a commitment. I thought it was too much drama. It gave me anxiety to even think about being in a relationship again, because all I knew was heartache, jealousy, and disappointment.

And then I met Andrew, and in the first few months I wanted to cry at how well he treated me. He has never said a bad thing about me, to me or his coworkers. He is always willing to communicate with me if we have any issues. He is a selfless boyfriend and lover, and I’ve never felt closer to anyone in my life. We joke that I am the female version of him. He’s met my entire family and they all love him, I’ve met most of his family and they all love me. He is everything I could’ve ever asked for in a relationship, and he loves every little thing about me, and he tells me that every day. For christ’s sake, I’ve written enough blogs about the man!

Please for the love of God, take my advice: Don’t fucking do it. You are worth more than you think. You will meet someone who will love every goddamn thing about you if you are just patient enough to wait for them. Love yourself, be kind to yourself, and be patient. And maybe then you’ll be on the other side of the conversation, wondering how any of your friends could ever settle for garbage. Learn to let go gracefully. If they don’t fight for you, fuck them, they don’t deserve you anyway. You will be treated like the queen/king you are. And you will forever be grateful to that person for loving you every day and showing you how much you should have loved yourself in the first place.

 

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This’ll just be a short hodge-podge of things.

First, I want it known that it sucks to live with any kind of stomach problems. I’m happy for the rest of my health, I can deal with fighting to lose weight just like every other person in this world. But I can’t deal with being doubled over in pain because it feels like someone has poured hot lead into my intestines just because I ate something that wasn’t leafy green. It isn’t normal to endure such pain and try to move on with your day like everything’s fine, like you weren’t just trying to squeeze yourself into the most comfortable position just to make it through the next few minutes without moaning and shouting. The world needs to be more comfortable with talking about stomach problems.

Next, I’ve been working on that ex story some more, and it’s taking me through another wild ride of emotions. Sometimes reminiscent, other times infuriating. But I really enjoy writing it, and I’m not sure why. I’m not sure who I’ll dwell on the longest, but I would assume it will follow chronologically. I want to be able to share this one with the world, but it’s already 50 pages, and I don’t want to run into any lawsuits with the people I’m writing about. But hey maybe that’s the risk with dating a writer? Give me a good story and I’m going to write about you.

It’s making me miss a few people, one I never really let go of. The other one is really dangerous for me to miss, and I have to wonder whether or not I romanticize it. I know that I romanticize it, I guess I just wonder to what degree, whether it’s completely skewed or not. Side note, maybe I should date people that aren’t going to be dangerous for me to miss…

I’m burnt out from school, and I keep thinking about the days in elementary school that I think I reached a higher level of thinking, as if opening my crown chakra. I had moments that I questioned everything, and I mean everything. I would be running in from recess and think to myself why am I here? Why am I this brain? Why am I this body? That’s all we are, brains in bodies that somehow come from different walks of life, different situations. Why am I here right now in this brain with this body? And it happened all the time, like I was looking in a mirror and seeing a complete stranger, unattached to my body, unaffiliated. I’m not sure if that qualifies as an out of body experience.

I haven’t had one of those moments in a while, and I wonder what has changed. If I have been beaten and brainwashed by schooling, if I’m not as close to such spirituality because I have closed myself off to different religions. If that has blocked my crown chakra, and now it takes effort for me to consider not being this body, not being who I am. It’s very strange, and I wish I had more time to reflect on it, but right now my life is too busy.

I miss nature, as always. Yesterday I followed home the sun, taking the time to appreciate the steeples on campus, comparing them to the clustered spires of Frederick, and for the first time since orientation, I felt a connection to the campus. It was a nice change of pace from the constant resentment of being here in winter, seemingly putting my life on hold.

But I shouldn’t think that way, should I? My life’s already started. And I’m so close to having that degree and being able to do whatever I want afterward. If I still had three years or so to go, I’d probably rethink the whole thing. Do what I want now, go back to school later when I could afford it. Chad is always in my ear when I have those “I can’t wait to start my life” thoughts, because my life is already here. It’s helping me take the opportunities that arise in front of me (I spontaneously went to a concert with my friend on Tuesday and was in a mosh pit for the first time – very exciting opportunity that I’m glad I took).

I guess I should say that soon I will be able to take my life in the direction that I want. I will have more time for nature and reflection. I will have more time for myself. For yoga, for work, for exercise. I look forward to it and all the other days of my life, including tomorrow, should it come.

Cheers

I Don’t Even Know the Question

What can I say about finals week… Sleep deprivation, I guess. Lots of anxiety. I might have heartburn? Who knows. But I’m ready to get the hell out, even if it’s only for 12 days.

So I’ve had this interesting dilemma. As you know, I like to write, and I’ve always hated reading and writing love stories that are entirely based around a relationship rather than some other major plot points (Nicholas Sparks doesn’t count as plot points, I’m sorry, he bugs me). In all, or at least most, of those love stories, you know who the person will or should end up with, if it works out yay if it doesn’t what a tragedy. Real life isn’t like that. There isn’t this be-all-end-all person that you know you should be with. Some people might like or dislike some of your romantic choices.

As someone who enjoys reflecting on her romantic choices, I had an idea. What if I wrote a book that had a realistic amount of love interests, something that took place over several years, and they all had their strengths and flaws, like regular human beings? I bet you different audiences would have different feelings about who the main character should end up with, and sometimes it’s powerful not pleasing everybody. Like I said, it’s realistic.

However, my dilemma. I have based my story, my characters almost entirely on my life story. Part of me wanted this, in a sadistic yet cathartic way. I enjoy romanticizing my relationships; it makes them more fun to miss. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize how hard it might be to go through all of these old emotions.

It’s important to me as a writer to accurately describe when someone is devastated by a loss, to embody just how empty she may feel. Of course, as I draw from personal experiences, I draw from personal emotions, and I didn’t understand how hard that would be. It’s literally just feeling sorry for myself again, something I don’t enjoy doing very often. I think the book has turned more into a letter to my exes, which could be very dangerous.

I’m barely halfway through my first boyfriend, and I’ve had to hold back tears, something I never thought I would have to experience with him again. But I suppose that when you are truly attached to someone, when you genuinely loved them, those feelings are going to come back no matter what. Not in a meaningfully romantic way, just as a reminiscent nod to the past.

It also doesn’t help to write these emotional moments to this song, but I suppose both are rather beautiful experiences.

I’ll let you know whether or not the book is worth publishing. Perhaps it’ll just become a memoir. All I know is it feels good to write again, especially when it means reflecting on your past choices. Sometimes you catch something you missed the first time.

Love