aware

I stepped

carefully

slowly

toe heel

toe heel 

on to the cooled 

cement

9:14 am

this is the first time 

I have felt my body

my feet

my legs

walk

in over ten days

I bought my dog a bone today. I was sad to see I had to hold it for her to enjoy it. Her leg doesn’t work anymore. I don’t mind. After 20 minutes, I let her figure it out on her own. She knows her body. She resulted to laying and staring at me.

***

Last week I went to see my grandmother who is very sick. I wasn’t aware of how sick is very sick. She wanted to move from the hospital to home, to die. I slept next to her the first night. She woke up, one AM, herself. At seven AM, she was a completely different person.

***

I went to bed last night, being who I want to be. I woke up feeling how I’ve felt for months now. Living the reality that is slowly drying out, dying. I know why this is, and I still fall in to the same pattern. Less often than before though.

***

My life is full of death, and I am not scared. Or am I? Is that what the waking up at three AM is about? What the intense race against time is about? The needing to walk my path NOW, is about? Or is it just how life goes? I ask these questions and I don’t really care to know the answer.

balance

I swear I'm weightless

with the change in the wind
off I go

To be painfully
steadily
rooted
nailed
to this reality

This is okay
I grit
through the pain

To live
in both worlds
is my forever
task

tidal waves

Feelings come in sets of tidal waves

I am brought out to sea
tumbling for what feels like
an eternity

Stuck under the powerful currents
I remember
don’t fight
Relax

It’s only then
can I breathe
surfacing
I search for the ground
my feet are met by no-thing
I am too far from shore

So I swim
and swim
and swim
and swim
through the discarded emotions

The moment I touch land
Ah! Sweet land!
I pass out

My exhausted body
unable to pull myself
a centimeter further

When I wake
my hands no longer
resemble my grandmothers
my skin
warm to touch
I was gifted more kisses
from the sun

Everything is a blur.
Did I experience that?

I look to the ocean
she is calm
glittering

she’s the most beautiful thing
I have ever seen

lately

It's those relationships
the ones you feel
so deep in your core

It doesn't matter
if you are
lovers
sisters
brothers
friends

Together,
you can face 
it all

I feel like a broken record. In the past year, I have lost (well, in some cases, shifted) three really important relationships in my life. It has been ugly and excruciatingly painful. It has been heart break, questioning until light danced through my blinds, waking up pinned to my bed, poems writing themselves through tears and a loss of identity and community.  

I know that sounds extreme, because it is. The three most important people in my life (in Bend), my boyfriend, my "brother", and my roommate/best friend, all disappeared in a month. Now, when I say "disappeared", I don't mean they vanished. Quite the opposite, they continued to exist, just without me being an important player in their lives. I think that is the dagger in my heart; space didn't part us, disagreements did. 

I am stubborn, but I am not that stubborn. I admit when I'm wrong, and in arguments, I am usually the first one to belly up. That is why, this summer, hell this whole year, has been so difficult for me. 

Everything was sparked by my job ending. I was heartbroken. Relieved, and completely heartbroken. In heartbreak, I destroy. I am not sure if this is a normal reaction. For myself, when things go haywire, it all goes haywire. Two weeks after quitting my job, I ended my relationship. I felt guilty for being immersed in my head and beginning to intertwine with another human being (which was a giant mistake). 

A week after that, my roommate and I got into a rather large disagreement about a guy (how STUPID), and our relationship was forever changed. This is the one that hurt the most. Previous to all the madness, we were inseparable..... well separated by work. Partners in crime and in fun. Fire and ice.  It wasn't the party girl relationship. It was oh-fuck-what-did-you-do-I-got-your-back relationship. The relationship you don't think about, because you know the other's heart and you know that nothing could stop the love between you. Well, we were wrong. Kinda. Our tift tore me from the inside out. Already heartbroken, I was unable to see clearly. Previously believing we were so similar, we were gravely mistaken. Kind, she is not always sensitive. Sensitive, I am not always kind. 

It took months, history repeated itself, and we are no longer best friends. In fact, we both avoided our house. Fast forward to months later, the love still exists, we laugh together still, have each other's backs, and still are sisters. It has just changed. In fact, the poem above is about her. 

And lastly, I lost a dear friend to me. He is the most stubborn person I know. We felt like siblings, and often acted like it. I pushed his buttons too hard, something I am good at, and he decided he didn't want to be connected. This hurt. We were in school together. He helped me through my shit storm, and his heart is laced with gold. I know that once his mind is made up, it is made up. I still think of him from time to time, all the while saying "I love you. I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you." That's the Hawaiian saying, and I pray to Pele and Poliahu that he feels it. 

So that was dragged out. A big SPLAT! explaining that which has been my life in the last six months. I feel well now. With each relationship shifting, I have welcomed in new hearts and minds. 

Twenty-five has been quite the experience. I never knew my heart was so fragile. Here's a picture of me in the middle of it. It's sad, and a little funny... I couldn't even wear my clothes right side out.

Love never lost

When you’re heartbroken everything is blurry. The pain is tangible, rough, rubbing against your already chaffed skin. Your life as you knew it, is no more. For me, I start over. Often I lose a partner, along with a job, or a friend, or a whole bunch of friends, or a living space. You name it. It might be because I am intense, maybe this is how it goes for everyone, or just how the universe works. I’m not sure. What I do know, it fucking hurts. Not just emotionally. But physically. My chest physically aches, my head feels too full of worries to even be touched, my stomach is frozen, digestion put on hold, and this time around, my ears ached so bad, I was woken up twice in excrusiating pain. The pain from heartbreak has no origin. It just hurts. 

Today, I went to one of my past client’s singing recital. I left my job working residential therapy a month ago. It was the first deep cut in my sensitive fierce heart. A old coworker reached out requesting I be there, the client really wanted me to see her sing. I showed up, cutoff stained shorts, three-day greasy hair and a tye dye shirt. As I was looking everyone’s nice outfits and questioning why I thought it was a good idea to not get ready, I was bombarded. Three girls ran at me full speed shrieking my name. I forgot how it felt. I forgot how loved I was. How much I love them. How connected we all are. 

As they hugged me tight, tears welled up in my eyes. Fuck, that’s where my heart has been. I looked into each of their sweet makeup-less eyes and told them how much I missed them, how I had dreams about them after I quit, and how they are still in my thoughts. They all smiled and talked at the same time to update me with their lives. Nothing had changed. They didn’t love me any less, and shit, I loved them even more. 

I sat through the performance, heart as light as a feather, arms wrapped with one of the girls. We all share a heart, I forgot. Each time the girl performing looked our way, her smile grew. She had a whole crew of girls cheering for her-- all of different race, backround and past. I can’t explain the love I felt, other than being a proud mom.

When I was leaving, I hugged each of them tight. Kissed their cheeks. You can’t do that in residential therapy, and I never a gave a damn. I used to kiss their cheeks as they laid in bed, exhausted from intense emotions and outbursts. Today, I told them how proud I was, how much I loved them and told them to go easy on the staff. To remember they are humans too, just like me. I was met with smirks, playful eyes, pinches and kisses.

Walking to my car, I felt a hope I haven’t felt in weeks. Everything will be okay Amanda. They know. They know you love them. And they understand your love. 

And it came to me. That is what heart break is for me. I fear they won’t understand that my love has not dissolved. It has not “run away”. It is still very present. My love does not falter, and it shifts. I don’t know how others love, and I can’t assume, because that would make an ass of you and me. I just know it makes sense now. It makes sense. And for the first time in a month, I can feel my heart lightening.

duality

The duality inside me is quite the phenomenon

Naturally I am serious
full of emotion
purpose
drive
heart
percision

And I am playful
as a monkey
swinging from person to person
cackling in my pursuit
I love people!
I love to play!
I love to love!

Suddenly it shifts
Get shit done
go after what you want
you are resilient
unstoppable
you are here to live out your purpose

in comes the other
Have fun baby Mandi!
this is your natural state!
do art
give kisses
sing
know you can make a living out of what you love!

Back and forth they go
speaking loudly at the same time
they love each other
yet go head to head

Does everyone experience this?
It is quite the show. I laugh at the dualities.
The internal conversation.
Yet I wonder

Do you experience this too?

work

I bought myself new earrings today
You know why?
because I’m quitting my job

I was given an ultimatum on Monday
either take the program manager position
or take a fairly large pay cut

I don’t let people shove me around
I don’t like to do things half assed
I don’t like to say YES to things when I am not sure
and lately
I have been doing that

Today I said no
and as life goes
all things dramatic
unfolded in the past two days

I had tried to give the job promotion thought
only to find myself preoccupied
with my hurting relationship
and friend’s troubles

My friends,
the past four months
Saturday and Sundays
have been heavy
dreaded

I work the 1-11pm shift both days

I love the clients
Love is an understatement
they feel like my children
and it is very difficult to run the show
with 7+ girls for ten hours straight

Yes, I have coworkers that are awesome
and as lead counselor, I had a heavier duty

Their pain
sank it’s fangs into me
each weekend
sucking me dry
of love
happiness
and trust of all things good in the world

I didn’t talk to people on weekends
couldn’t have a sleep over with my boyfriend
or god forbid
drink alcohol the night before
I took it very seriously
I needed to be 110% ready for each shift

And I struggled
I began picking up unwanted traits from the girls
wearing their pasts on me like a cloak
I stopped trusting people
not being able to catch a break from the racing thoughts and concerns
with all that
I still didn’t back down

I showed up
shift after shift
ready to love
ready to hurt
and ready to fight
how fucked up is that?

And how sad

that I can not handle their realities

yet

they have to live them

The offer to be a manager
was alluring
I had already picked up the role as a mother
and I cringe as the unwanted words leave my mouth

Yes,
I became a mother to nine
14-17 year-old girls
I had worked so hard to get the position as program manager
yet it wasn’t what I wanted after all

I cannot commit my life to work
right now

I want to believe in all things positive
I want to be appreciated for my work
and allotted my weekends off

I believe
in my heart of hearts
work should be enjoyable
we should look forward to create
to build
to touch others

If my work isn’t a happy place
then it is not the place for me
Period

So here I am
still employed
on the move
feeling free
liberated
I might even say
yet tethered

I choose me
the one who needs as much time alone
as she needs with others
the one who sits in the woods for hours upon hours
writing, painting, singing
free from the constant buzz of technology

Life is about feeling good, making a difference and gaining wisdom
I suppose I will continue to keep doing that
this time
on my terms

Yes
I can forsee the struggle
it will be to leave

But when something isn’t serving you anymore
when something is hurting you

you must pack up your things
state how you feel
and depending on how you are received
leave
or stay

I am leaving
with a heavy heart
fearless eyes
the courage of a lion

I love the girls
I love them
and they know
for I tell them each shift
through their tears
their threats
their celebrations

And it is my duty
to show them
what it means to be
woman
to be strong
to be authentic

to be honest
in actions and words

and to teach others how we want to be treated

So here I go
I choose me

I choose to stand my ground
know my worth

and continue to burn my path

I can sleep well
knowing
I have loved how I love
stated who I am
acted out of my values

Leaving is always hard
yet choosing me
is the only
choice

Type A? Type B? Type Unicorn?

The other day I was getting my hair done. This is not something I do often, yet it was that time of the year again (haha yup, once a year). I didn’t know the hair dresser at all, and I could feel the snobby vibes in the room. No makeup on, with a stained shirt, I sat down in her chair ready to get a new do. After a little small talk to test one another’s waters, we began actually engaging. What did she enjoy? Did she have a family? She was kind enough, answering honestly, when she began to ask me questions. I told her what I do, about my boyfriend, about my life. In a kind enough observation, she said, “You are very type A. You are straight forward, get your stuff done and hold people to their shit. Good for you, I wish I was like that at your age.”

Folks, I have never been called “type A” nor have even ever pondered that possibility. Yes, she meant it as a compliment yet I sat frozen in her observation. I associate “type A” people to be uptight, career driven, attention to detail, scheduled, busy people. But oh wait, that fits me. What a bizarre realization it was. Sitting with foil in my hair, talking to a stranger, I had an explanation to why I felt so off for the past few months. I never lose my words or don’t know what to say, yet in that moment I sat, quiet with big eyes. Looking in the mirror I saw a different side of me that I had never seen.

No wonder why I have been interested in wearing sparkly makeup, lightening my hair, and wearing light colors. I have felt so heavy, yet naked of any authenticity. Now looking at my actions, it makes complete sense. I did what I thought I was "supposed" to do. Dressed in ways I deemed appropriate. I even COMBED MY HAIR!!!!!

That was two days ago. Since then, I have met with two very good friends that came to visit town, and I remember. I remember the girl with permanent dirt on her feet, makeup less big eyes, and all second hand clothes. I remember looking forward to adventure, diving into the unknown with a playful heart and glittery eyes. No, I am not nostalgic, but I know that is my best self. Not the Mandi from three years back, but the Mandi who dances to her own tune. Who does things that make zero sense to others yet vibrate with my frequency.

I feel the fire again. I see the wildness in my eyes. All my actions in the past few months make sense. And for all of this, I am grateful.

Maybe this is what life is all about? Losing our selves to find ourselves. I am not sure. But damn, it feels good to be trekking back home.

potentials

Why is it
That when it rains
It pours
Is it true
Or
All perspective

I can see the many different paths
None of them making sense
THEY ALL FIT
I scream

What a blessing it is
Every path is a fit
All are possible

I see the lives in slow motion video
Overwhelming my busy brain

What a gift and a curse
to be intuitive
I scratch my heard
Look down at the paths

No roads exist
I am not standing on the ground?
It is all black

I glance up
Open doors with videos playing
Which one do I choose?

I walk one way to get a closer look
Feelings begin to sweep me out to sea
If I go any further I can’t go back

I step back

Pick another door

I see my reflection
Moving through the actions
I look different
Calmer

I take a step towards her

The calmness gently wraps me in her blanket
Eyes close
Body shaking
Fear rips the blanket off
WHAT IF YOU LOSE YOUR SPUNK
she screams

I take a step back

I stand

Staring at the potential futures

six visible doors
I don’t know what to do

I don't know what to do

I don't know what to

I don't know what

I don't know

I don't.....

DO WHAT YOU ALWAYS DO!
I feel, I think, I know

Surrender 

Or don't

Let go
MOVE!

half broken hearted

My heart beats steady
my body sinking into my bed
difficult to tell what is my body
and what is not
I swear to you my heart is always
half broken

I touch my chest with both hands
gently
It's still beating
I'm still alive

My breathing is rapid
He is intruding on my every thought

Did I do the right thing?
Fuck
Fuck
Fuck

I haven't slept in three nights
my intuition has been arguing loudly
with my conscious mind
waking me every hour

Unable to get my balance
I was told one thing
and I slipped
hard
cracking my already fragile heart on the
icy pavement of our relationship

I care so much about him
and I have listened to his words

His actions illustrate care
he takes care of me
helps me
listens when I am confused
pulls me out of impossible jams
coaxes me back gently when I am lost
holding me close to keep me warm

Yet his words speak of a different story
he wants to see other people
he is unable to just see me
he cares, but won't just care about me

The words
delivered softly
sliced open my heart
I have been him many times before
and I am not him now

I cannot be a maybe
I cannot dive into the deep emotions he swirls up
just to know it could all be trampled with one night
I cannot fear him being with another
he is not mine

Nor was he ever

I feel like a coward
and I feel like a lion

Am I cowering from a potentiality?
Am I letting my fear of not being enough hold me back?
Was I trying to grasp because of my insecurities?

I listened to my intuition finally
I had ignored her for weeks
I spoke clearly from my fragile heart
respecting her, unafraid of being vulnerable

Did I do the right thing?

I have not been in this position in a long time
I have always been open
free to do as I please
cuddle who I want
kiss who I want
sleep with who I want
It has been my anthem

Now I am here

Maybe I am weak in my mind
maybe I am strong in my intuition
My heart is clear
All I wanted was him
his sunflower eyes
always disheveled hair
olive skin
stuffy nose

All I wanted was him

However, when two people want different things
they carve different paths
walk their own way

I am not one to force another on my path
though I have tried in the past
(gasp!)

Now I need to listen to the words that have been repeating
over and over
for weeks now
Let go or be dragged, my darling.

tidbits on love

Most people I know are dating people that they know are not their future. Yes, I said that correctly. And some are. My brother, my roommate and a few others to name. So, what about us? The people who are in relationships that we do not see a future with?

I believe, why enter a relationship if you do not see a future? To me, that has always been black and white. As of late, it hasn’t been that easy. It has not been black and white, in fact it has been shades of red, green, purple and a bunch of colors without names.

I went home last week and saw so many people whom I love dearly. I talked to good friends, their parents, my family. I got lots of tidbits of information. The first one being, love isn’t what we expect it to be. That lasting love takes practice, going through peaks and valleys, and building on foundations. I gulped aloud each time. I don’t like that. I don’t like the notion that you could potentially marry anyone you are compatible with and make it work. No, I do not like that at all. Isn’t love supposed to be an unsaid thing? That you feel it so wholly, so entirely, that you refuse to see life without the other? Isn’t it when you compromise not in demise but out of curiosity, compassion and sincerity? Isn’t it when the other person is your best friend, your partner in good times and bad, and your challenger?

I hated the explanation. I don’t know if love can be summarized, or if love is the same phenomenon for all people. So why was I so bothered? I know that people are different. I know that love is not black and white. And I know people love differently. Yet, the explanation stuck to my heart.

Ironically, the guy I have been seeing said the same thing. That love is something to build. That it doesn’t happen overnight. That he was patient with me because he cares. I wanted to prove him different. That I was different. That my love isn’t that way. And now I am stepping back slowly with my head hung low.

All I have known in love is deep, quick, unlasting love. Was it love? I think in a few cases, yes. I felt shattered without the other. And in one case, went into the darkest depression I have ever faced. But all of my relationships have been short, intense and emotion filled. Fireworks, lighting up the whole sky, creating a loud “boom” to just a few moments later to fade into the night sky.

For someone who loves hard, and speaks from the heart, this information is moving. I am looking back with compassion, and feeling all the feelings that come with this realization. Maybe love isn’t what I want it to be, but something that just is.

I do not know, yet I know whatever we chase, will run. I have yearned for love, for connection, for other worldliness emotion and feeling, and here I am, again, looking at my heart. Have I pushed it away? Have I twisted and turned myself in ways that are unnatural to the flow of love?

I am not sure, and I am feeling glimmers of calm. No-thing is to be figured out. Just let it go and it will come.

missing heart

What do you do

When you can’t sleep

Cause your heart is missing

No longer in your body

But instead next to you

Weeping softing

You coo it sweetly

It's okay

You lie

It's okay

It looks so bizarre there

It doesn’t look how you thought

It’s maroon

Not a crimson red

You have never seen a naked heart

You touch it

Try to place it gently back in your chest

It’s too slippery

Too swollen

Too tender

So you let it sit

Closing your eyes

Praying for sleep

To wring you clean of the thoughts

Please let me be

Please bring me peace

Let me forgive

Please..

Please...

And it's morning again

Fresh eyes

No longer bloodshot

from the stress

the acid tears

the anger

they are clear

reflecting the world

amber and green

with hints of blue

Heart open

remembering

this is who I am

I forgive myself

I forgive others

this is who I am

My heart beating it's slow steady song

Thank you for coming back to me

Thank you

Thank you

Thank you

exhale

I wake up
calm
I haven't slept well all week

I feel a body behind me
Oh fuck
I panic

What the fuck is my issue
Timidly, I glance at the arms wrapped
around my waist
Muscular
With bleach blonde hair

I recognize them
how they feel
how they look
their firm hold on me
I take my first breath in over a minute

He moves closer
face in my knotted hair
tracing my bare back
my filled in curves

He pulls me closer
close
has never been
close enough

My mind shoots thoughts recklessly
Am I betraying myself?
Do I want to be touched?
Is this okay with me?
Intuition is waking up
patterns unraveling

I flip over to face him
He is handsome, yes
down right sexy
And things have changed

I study his sleepy face
eyes still slits
sun kisses scattering his nose
I hope someone loves him
as I did

We speak a few words
He pulls me closer
My head on his chest
His fingers in my hair
And I don't feel the need
to be taken care of
I can take care of me

I do not feel sad when I leave

I don’t feel sad when I leave
Nope, I do not

I feel enlivened at where I am going
excited for change
with fairy dust in my eyes
The future looks bright!

I believe in going with the flow
in following the signs
I can always turn around if I please
no-thing is cemented

I don’t feel bad when I leave
However I do feel less human

I watch the ones I bonded with feel sad
My emotions don’t mirror theirs

like I am so practiced in

My friend
My lover
My sister
My brother

I appreciate you
I love you
And
Thank you

But I must go
Don’t be sad
GO GO GO!

Do what you please
Love and fulfill your needs

Take care of you
and
I’ll take care of me

Know this is all a grand adventure
For that is why
I am not sad when I leave

On yoga

I have been pondering starting up my yoga practice again.
Yoga is a beautiful and powerful practice for many.

And I hate yoga studios.

Before, I was unable to accept this
I practiced yoga for two hours every day
Contorting myself into bizarre positions
Gaining flexibility I thought was only possible for the yogis on instagram

I attended multiple yoga classes per week
Each teacher with their own flavor
Some I really enjoyed (Hi Zeah!)
And others I did not like as human beings
It was not the way they taught, or the music they played
It was the way they spoke, their intention behind their words
The feelings
I picked up their feelings they put down

Was I too sensitive for yoga?
Maybe, I thought
Was I working through internal issues?
Probably, I accepted
However, no
I am pretty sure that wasn’t it

So, what was it?

It was the bullshit.
The fakeness.
It was thick as LA smog in the air
Everyone was drinking the yoga kool aid
And I was intolerant to it

I would leave (most) classes on fire
Irritable and sharp around my blissed looking edges
intolerant to the dogma I was fed
I would be in arms after each class
fire burning in my eyes making them bloodshot
Something was burning in me and it was screaming
NO. JUST NO.

I see it now and smirk
I haven’t been to a yoga class in years
I stopped attending classes because I was done being angry
Ironic, huh?

It took me quitting it all together to really gain some peace over my mind
And I don’t necessarily think it was because I only stopped going to yoga class
I stopped trying to be a yogi
I stopped judging myself for strongly disliking many of the teachers
I stopped hanging out with people who felt off to me
I recognized that other people’s truths were not mine to replicate
I stopped forcing myself to do things I didn’t want to

And let me please say,
There are many, many amazing yoga teachers
I know quite a few myself
I have taken classes from them
And their passion and compassion shines through their teaching

THAT’S WHAT WE NEED
We need a lot more people like that in the world
They don’t have to be yoga teachers,
Just people that do what they love with passion and compassion

This is me doing that
Writing does that for me, not yoga

So to you,
Drop the BS that’s not serving you
Who cares if your kool aid spills all over the floor
Enough red dye #40 will kill you eventually

Drop it and don’t look too hard into why it didn’t work for you.
Do whatever it is that makes you feel enlightened.
And share it with the world.

true for me, not for you

I have been shutting myself down when it comes to writing
Pulling the power cord on my creativity

You know why?

Because I thought I was selfish
I was selfish for writing about my trials as a twenty-four year old average looking woman
who came from a well off family with parents still together

I felt silly
I was given such a simple life and I make mayhem of it
I feel my emotions are self imposed
That all my “problems” are self created, and my revelations are only applicable to me

And guess what?
The later two are true

And that's life!

I cannot tell you what is true
My truth is magenta pink with winks of orange
Your truth may be chrome, thick as steel
Or maybe it’s soft, like your puppy’s fur

I don’t know
And that’s not why I am here

I am not here to tell you what is true for you
I am not here to tell you what is right from wrong
And I am not here to impress or spark your fancy

I am here to express what is true for me
I am here to be the largest expression of myself, crushing self imposed boundaries
I am here to be the truest of true to me and not you

And here I am writing again
This is for me, not you
And maybe, just maybe

You needed to hear it too

tip toeing

I have been avoiding it
Tip-toeing around it
Occasionally getting a sharp piece of glass lodged in my foot
Quickly I pull it out
Being numb to the pain, for it is over ridden by fear
I can’t do it again,
I remember this pain

Then I look down
I see blood
Thousands of little shards of glass stuck to my soles of my feet
How did I not feel them?

Why, it was the fear
Larger than life in all its shadows
It had distracted me
And the very thing I feared had happened
Yet I hadn’t noticed
And I was still standing

How could it be?

If you have ever picked glass out of your feet, you know
You know the time it takes to gently remove each little sliver
The eyesight it takes to see the invisible thorns
The patience it takes to continue to dig until the sliver is out

And you still do it
For you know if you do not take time to remove each piece
It will hurt more, lodge deeper in your sole

And when you’re finished
Your feet are still sore
Don’t worry though,
They too, will heal completely

And maybe you learned a few things~

Maybe you learned that fear is an illusion
That the very thing you fear, might not be as painful as the fear itself

Be the One

Be the one who speaks up when others fear the repercussions
The one who forgives easily and recognizes the humanness behind it all

Be the one who gets naked first, encouraging others to love themselves
The one who isn’t “perfect” in any way, shape or form but doesn’t give a damn

Be the one who never settles, knowing that settling is giving up
The one who does not fit into the mold society so carefully sculpted

Be the one who undresses their soul, unafraid of who will see
The one who feels the fear of rejection but risks it anyways

Be the one who feels all of the feels-- the highs and the lows, recognizing both as beautiful
The one that cries when they are sad, to laugh in the next minute at the emotional release

Be the one who says sorry first, not because of necessity, but because you feel it in your soul
The one to admit when you messed up, unafraid to be humbled

Be the one who says I love you first
The one who is fearless and courageous in their love, knowing it needs to be expressed

Be the one who goes against the grain
The one who gains tough skin from the constant rubbing of “shoulds” and “shouldn'ts”

Be the one who looks people in the eyes, recognizing their individuality yet acknowledging their sameness
The one who sees past others egos, straight into their hearts

Be the one who understands
The one who listens to the things said and unsaid

Be the one who seeks
The one who knows there is a purpose behind everything, yet is curious to dig a little

And lastly,

Be the one who lives authentically
The one who lives every moment in honesty
The one who wakes up each morning with expansiveness in their heart and a fire in their soul
The one who knows their time is short and they damn well will make a difference

Be the one you feel authentically being

On rejection

"You could be prettier,” he said.
He then added,
“You could have a more feminine face.
And you could be skinnier.”

And that was that. This was the third time I was rejected by a man in a year.

That's a lot, huh? I could go on thinking, oh it must be true. I am too fat. Too obnoxious. Too ugly. Too manly looking. Too fiery. But that isn’t the case.

I would be lying if I said I don’t give a damn what other people think of me. I do. I most definitely do, but to an extent. I approve of myself. I think I am pretty. I think I am badass. And I think that I am who I am for a reason. However, that’s not what I’m writing this for.

You see, it is no coincidence that I keep coming up against the same experience. Being rejected is many people’s worst fear. We go out of our ways, and in many ways conform, out of the fear of being rejected.

Being rejected stings. It screams “YOU ARE NOT ENOUGH AS YOU ARE!”. It sucker punches you from behind and then kicks you while you’re down.

However, it teaches us just as much as it hurts us. It reminds us that we have to choice to let the daggers of rejection skim our shoulders without stabbing us. It reminds us, that no, we are not for everyone (and that’s a good thing)! It humbles us, and forces us to become more firmly rooted in our being. It makes us look at ourselves on the inside, and (can) strengthen our beliefs about ourselves. And most of all, it allows all that is not meant for us to move along, so we are available for what is meant for us.

As I spoke to a few people close friends about my experience, all of them had the same response, “Are you fucking kidding me!? What did you say back?! He says YOU’RE not PRETTY enough for him?!! Fuck him!”

And I have laughed at the absurdity. I didn’t say anything mean back. What would I get out of saying hurtful things to him? Assurance that I hurt him as he hurt me? Hurt people, hurt people. Read that again. Read it over and over again until it is cemented in your consciousness. Hurt people, hurt people. It’s something I have learned the hard way, and it is something I still recognize daily. I have hurt people out of fear of being hurt. It’s a sad existence.

So you’re probably wondering, how did I react? Well, I just said, “huh, that’s interesting. I feel I am decent looking. And I like myself. So I guess that’s your opinion.” I was a little drunk, otherwise I would have walked the rest of the way home. Not out of spite, but out of respect for myself. As we sat quietly, I felt his eyes searching my profile for a reaction. He said, “how does that make you feel?”

I turned half facing him and said, “It doesn’t really make me feel any which way, it just shows me how you feel.”

How you feel about me, how it is a reflection of yourself, how hurt you must have been in the past, how afraid you are of connection and hey, you really are not attracted to me.

To put things into perspective, this guy is someone I found interesting. I know, I know, if you are my good friend you are rolling your eyes (I’m talking to you Cam and Brendan). He is bizarre. He HATES religion (his reasoning is interesting), he hates people knowing his business, he is extremely clever, good at what he does, and (I think) has difficulty connecting with others.

I was curious, very curious. And hey, he was catching my drift. We went to drinks. We went exploring. And it didn’t work out.

I know, I know, rejection still hurts regardless if we have strong positive beliefs about ourselves. Yes, it does. And there is beauty in the hurt. It reminds us that we are social creatures. It reminds us that yes, we do have a heart, and it can be hurt. I get it now. I will keep on coming up with the same experiences until I tune into what it is that is being taught.

I am emotionally unavailable. I have been avoiding that statement now for a year. I have found multiple almost relationships and one real deal. Guess what happened with the “real” relationship? I ended it. I sabotaged it. I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t able to be the person he needed me to be. I wasn’t able to be emotionally committed. I wasn’t being my best self, and that is what relationships are about-- being the highest version of yourself while simultaneously helping the other do the same.

So yes, rejection hurts. However, I believe it happens for us. Not to us.

Maybe you disagree. That’s okay. Like I said, that’s your opinion. If you’re open to adopting a different outlook, try on what I said just for shits and giggles. Who knows, it might fit.