Gettin’ it this AM! #risengrind #runit #culvercity (at Baldwin Hills Steps)
Gettin’ it this AM! #risengrind #runit #culvercity (at Baldwin Hills Steps)
Monday Night Essentials (#avocado + #tequila)
And if I don’t meet this person, my backup plan is that I will become her. My backup plan is that I will spend my life with ME, and I will only let in a person who can compete with that scenario.
1. make a list of things to sell rather than things to buy.
2. eat more veggies.
3. drink water.
I brought him up casually only to find that talking about him suddenly made my body tingle. She curiously asked, “Well, do you love him? What do you love about him?”
There’s never been any doubt in my mind that I’ve been in love with him. I’ve been in love with him for the past two years. At first I wasn’t sure if I was in love with the idea of him - someone who was there for me during my lowest lows or if it was because I really did love who he was and how he made me feel. Sometimes I question what makes me still love him with him being so far away.
Is it because he’s always been so clear about how he feels about me? Is it because he makes me laugh harder than anyone else? Is it because he continually impresses me with his knowledge of the world and people of all different walks of life? Is it because he understands what it’s like to struggle? It is because he enjoys the good simple things in life that most people overlook? Is it because he has one of the greatest and most charming smiles of anyone I know?
It’s all the things. It’s all those things and more.
There has always been something standing between us and it’s something that I haven’t felt I’ve wanted to risk losing. How would we ever know if that life could work without that thing standing in the way? How do you explore a love when there’s fear of losing something else? I don’t know if I’ll ever know. I can’t decide which road will leave me less tortured in the end. I think about the Cheryl Strayed quote,
“I’ll never know, and neither will you, of the life you don’t choose. We’ll only know that whatever that sister life was, it was important and beautiful and not ours. It was the ghost ship that didn’t carry us. There’s nothing to do but salute it from the shore.”
Will I accept that life will never be mine? Or will I actually jump on that ship and sail away with it? These are the questions haunting me.
For yourself, for those around you.
The sun had just come up and my eyes were becoming dry and my contacts sticky. I’d hoped my eyelids would get heavy by the time I got home but the only thing heavy was my heart. My arms and legs were restless and I could feel the heat of my hair start to make me sweat as I wrestled with my sheets. To reach that hour of the morning with so many hours awake and moving makes the sinking in my chest get deeper with each passing moment I cannot fall asleep. My head begins to tell my heart that I should feel bad and guilty and be better. It’s only when I reach my bed alone that the voice in my head quickly makes me forget all the fun I was having only an hour before. The loneliness of a bed when your heart beats fast and your mind races can be the ultimate buzz kill. It was that morning.
When I reach for the phone my state of vulnerability and panic lead me wanting to hear only one voice. The one who all other hours of the day has the opposite effect on my heart. It’s hard to say if I should have rode that morning out alone and if things would be different today if I had. The lesson is less about the “what ifs” and more about addressing that panic that overcomes me and shifts everything.
He told me that pizza “is the worst thing for you.” All I could think about was that he was the worst thing for me in that moment. Look at me there - slurring my words and putting on that face I do when I can’t read a boy’s intentions, so my instinct is to become submissive. Falling over myself because I have let it get to a place where boundaries are blurred and I can’t tell what is good for me anymore.
Returning home from work that night I was surprised to find my apartment tidied up. The remote controls in perfect order, the dish put in the sink, the bed made better than I make it. Parts of me wanted the sheets to be left a mess and the toilet seat to be left up so I could find a reason to start to get over it again. It’s always easier for me when there’s a reason to think less of them and put the wall back up. Protect. Protect. Protect.
(late july 2013)
i write lots of things that i don’t ever publish & then re-visit later & decide i should. here’s one of those….
i knew there would be a day that i would go back but i didn’t think it’d be so soon. suddenly i’m desperately trying to breathe it all in before i go. take the time to appreciate everything that has made this city my home for the last three years. watch the leaves change like they’ve been dipped in paint of bright orange and red hues. breathe the crisp air and take in the endless green that surrounds me. i’ll never love green more than i have living here.
it’s funny that the second i made the choice to go i could find a million reasons to stay. just a little longer. it’s the spring that’s always felt the hardest, not fall or winter. winter brings new kinds of warmth into your life here. i’ll miss winter here. don’t get me started on summer. it changed me. summer in portland redefined what summer meant before. the sun shines different and it invigorates you unlike down south where sometimes you take it for granted.
i will be better for having lived here. the rare rainy days in los angeles will make me feel like i am home. things will change but i am full with eternal gratitude for this journey and the adventures i was blessed to experience.
Let’s do it (at Summer Land)
Santa Barbara is for lovers. 📷: @sonja_426 (at Municipal Winemakers)
You can take on the world, you can become something good, you can flourish and flame, but you have to love yourself first.
You are allowed to complain, obviously. You can really dislike the way your stomach looks in high-waisted shorts, be damned that you schlepped all the way into the dressing room to try the little fuckers on and leave empty-handed and pissed. You can curse your nose, the nose of your father that somehow plastered it’s way on your face. You can wonder if slamming your head against the wall would be a better solution to the way you already go about things, the way you never call back and get into bigger messes and say the wrong things. You can have flaws, real sharp flaws that make you look at yourself funny. You can be the kind of person who will crack eggs on the way home. You can be your mistakes a little bit. But you have to love yourself, too. You have to take those flaws and love them in the same way you love the things you’ve always wanted to be but can’t.
You can be annoyed at yourself, you can want to change things about yourself, but you have to, you have to love yourself. Love yourself in a different way then your mother loves you, then men love you, then women love you: in a way that is unbending even when you know the deepest, darkest secrets of yourself. Even when you know you are being unlovable. Even when you can’t get up.
Here’s the thing: if you are not in the trenches with yourself, then you are fighting a losing war before it’s begun. You need to be in the foxhole, the darkest dirtiest corners and the brightest fluorescent lights and you need to love what you see. You need to think you are beautiful and worthy with an (ass/face/sense of humor) to behold. You need to treat yourself fragile and stern, loving but with the impatience of somebody who doesn’t take bullshit. You need to be able to look deeply into yourself and see the good. You need to trust yourself. You need to love yourself. You need to finally start liking yourself a bit, too.
Today, it is time you stop thinking of yourself as the enemy. It is time to stop fighting yourself. If you owe yourself anything, it is that.
I really needed this today.