What if…

What if, what if, what if? I think about this every single day. About how incredible it is that my life is where it is. That I have a family, friends, an education, a job, the list goes on. Can you imagine how many tiny little actions had to line up for you to be exactly where you are today? All of the people you could have met anywhere in the world yet you find someone who warms your heart simply because you were lucky to be in the right place in the right time. Isn’t it funny how that works?

It always blows my mind to think that we will never know what the future holds. I know this sounds obvious, but every day I think about how the me two years ago could have never imagined being where I am today. My life is completely different in so many ways, and it amazes me to think on what I was missing out on back then when I thought I had everything.

But, what if? I often let this consume my thoughts, thinking of what would have happened if I didn’t go to school where I did, if I didn’t date who I did. What if my parents were still together? I can’t necessarily say that I believe in fate because I do believe that we drive much of our destiny and that we have much control over what direction our lives go. But I do believe that there are things that we cannot control, and I do think that there is something bigger out there. This is not to say that I regret any of my actions or things that happened to me, but I find it insane to think how we drive our lives.

My mind wanders day in and day out, thinking of the future and what it might hold, knowing the whole time that my future will most likely be something completely different. And that’s what I love about life. You don’t always see it coming. You learn to embrace the surprises, the changes, the things you never saw coming, and make it beautiful. And maybe your future won’t look like what you thought it would when you were a child, but I hope that you embrace all that life has to offer and you realize that the future you wind up with is just as good.

Healthy

I don’t usually post pictures on here of myself just because I like to express myself for people to read without putting a name to a face. But I’ve just been reflecting a lot on myself lately, and want to acknowledge my growth.

  

You might not see much of a change between the two, but the left picture was taken in the summer of 2015 after I had just broken up with my boyfriend of two years. The right picture was taken last week, two and a half months after he broke up with me for the second and final time.

I am smiling in both; well smirking in the second one, but you get the idea. Looking back on the first picture, I cannot believe that girl was me. Sure, I was skinny, had a “beautiful smile,” rocking body. What more could you want? The sad part is that although I may have looked happy to others, I was quite the opposite. I was unhealthy. I was skinny, which is the expectation these days. And I was happy with that. I didn’t have a lot of extra fat. But I wasn’t healthy. My heart wasn’t full. My life didn’t feel complete. My shoulders were bony and weak. I couldn’t stand on my own two feet without falling flat on my face.

I’m not trying to put myself down. I’m really not. But I can see looking at myself not how much healthier I am. My heart is more full, I have strength in my bones. I may not be as perfectly skinny, but I like the way I am. I look fuller, like I’ve been taking care of myself. My smile is more genuine, and I am so so happy. And the thing that baffles me the most is that that happiness is coming from me. I have stopped depending on others for my happiness and started to make it myself. I see a purpose and real meaning in my life. Like I can really do something important and rely on myself to do it.

I feel and look so much happier and healthier and I couldn’t be more proud of myself for how far I’ve come and how much I’ve grown in the past year. I love myself.

Things I never told you

Although you will never see this, here are the things I never had the courage to say. The things that held us back but taught me what love really is in the process.

You never knew me. You may have known my favorite color or favorite hobby, but you never knew my soul. What I lay in bed thinking about every night when I go to bed. You never knew my worst fears or how I held back tears because when I opened up to you, I was pitied. You never knew the me who would sing at the top of her lungs in the car because you would never let me have the music loud. You never let me be the real me. I conformed to your expectations of who you wanted me to be, and lost myself in the process.

I never came during sex. I actually do feel really bad about lying about that, and you know I’m not one to lie, ever. But I felt so bad because you’d try so hard but I was no where near close….I have promised myself to never lie to another guy about orgasms. *insert me holding my hand up as if taking an oath.*

Moving on, I always knew I deserved better. This may sound conceded or like I think I’m better than you, and I don’t mean to say that you aren’t a good person. But after the first 6 months I knew that the way you were treating me was not how the love of your life should treat you. I got so involved and fell in love with who I thought you were that when I started to see the real you, I kept giving you second chances hoping that I would see that guy again. Even when I found you talking to other girls on Tinder and lying to me constantly, I came back to you. I know now that I was just so afraid that if I left you, I would never find anything better. I would never find someone to treat me better or be mine. Damn I was wrong. I met a guy about a month later and didn’t know him more than two weeks, and he knew me better than you did after all those years. Only two weeks and I found someone that treated me better than you. So I know theres hope.

I hated when you would ignore me when I was mad instead of trying to work it out. You never went the extra mile.

I hate that you let our spark fade even when I tried desperately to keep it alive.

I hate that you let me love you for three years knowing the whole time that we would not end up together. You wasted my time and broke my heart in the process. I could have been doing great things without you, but I believed in you, and you led me to believe we were meant to be together.

I loved you so much more than you know. I loved you to the ends of the earth and would’ve crossed oceans for you. I think if you knew how much I loved you, I would feel pathetic. You would have taken advantage, and I’m glad I kept that from you. I saved myself a lot of hurt. You have only confirmed my fears about men and made it harder for the next guy to get me to open up.

It’s sad really to know that our relationship wasn’t real. Maybe it was for you, but it was never me dating you. It was the closed-off version who tried to change to fit your expectations. I will never be that person again. I will never settle for anyone who won’t let me be my true self. It might be good that you don’t know these things. You don’t deserve these thoughts from me, anyway. Just know that you will never find a girl that loved and treated you as well as I did.

 

 

 

 

Soon tomorrow will be today and today will be yesterday

I just thought I would update you on how I’ve been doing….as you know (or maybe don’t know if you don’t know me) that I went through quite a rough patch with my depression and was just having a really hard time being alone or feeling happy. A lot of this I think resulted from my breakup a few months ago. After the breakup, I picked myself up right away and moved on, and I think that might be where I went wrong. I never took the time to mourn and it definitely caught up to me. I don’t miss him whatsoever. In fact, I truly believe would be happy for him if he had a new girlfriend. But I think that being alone and not fully accepting the fact that I was alone and single really made things hard. I blocked out my feelings in attempt to make them disappear. Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect and resulted in me hurting many of my relationships in the process. I lost some people close to me who I thought would be there forever, but I guess that was my consequence. I do not blame myself for my depression. I know that it is a disease and not one that I can always control. But I do think that I could have dealt with my breakup in a healthier way.

I’ve never really acknowledged this until now, so it actually feels great to get it out there and off my chest. I finally mourned the end of my relationship the past few weeks, and I can’t say it didn’t rip me apart, but I can say that after letting myself feel the heartbreak, I feel so free.

Anyways, I just wanted to let you guys know that my heart has felt a lot lighter the past few days. I feel more like myself again. I don’t always have those dark thoughts invading my mind, and I’ve found myself smiling more. In fact, I think I smiled my first real genuine smile yesterday since the breakup. Life felt easier….more enjoyable. I think others around me have noticed too, which makes me happy. I guess I just wanted to say that I’m feeling a lot better and actually happy, although stressed about finals. I feel okay being alone for the first time in years. I apologize if I am being repetitive; I’m just happy to feel like me again. Thank you all for reading and taking this journey with me. And thank you to my few close friends who read this who have shown nothing but love and support for me these past few months. I have infinite love and appreciation for you.

Destruction of Man

As I sat there, I thought of the world. I thought of the millions and millions of people roaming this earth with me and that I had only met less than one percent of them. I thought of how the world is perceived and realized that everything we see this world as is a result of man.

We obsess over time; that we don’t have enough, that we wasted it, that time is running out, what time of day it is, when we have to have something done by. Time is nothing more than a man-made concept, yet it drives our whole lives. Why? I wonder this quite often, and why we can’t just enjoy life without having to define it with time and obsess over the amount of years we have to live or how long until we want to get married. I think that us humans stress more over this man-made concept when we should be focusing more on living life with no worries about time but more worries about what our hopes and dreams are and how to live our lives accordingly. Unfortunately, time drives the world, and one person denying the concept of time will only suffer.

We spend our whole lives searching for our soulmate, someone who will love us until the ends of the earth, who understands us to our core and still insists on staying. We have this idea in our heads that finding this person is the most important part of life, that if we die without a husband or wife, then we have failed. Why don’t we instead have the idea that finding yourself is the most important part of life? It is your life, after all. Why not focus on yourself and learning to know and love yourself? I think that us humans focus so much on fulfilling what society expects of us instead of doing what makes our lives feel full.

This world has been destroyed by humans and our endless expectations and creations that only limit us to the millions of possibilities there really are. It’s sad, really, that we seem to think that these creations help us and create order, when they actually create chaos and unhappiness…. The really sad part is though I feel this way, there is no way for me to reverse the mistakes humans have made over the years. I do plan on loving myself and working to rid my mind of society’s expectations. I do think that these expectations have led to my unhappiness as I always feel like what I am and what I do are never enough. I want to love myself, and spend my life doing what makes me happy and achieving my goals on no one’s time but my own.

 

If you want love

You want a guy who’s sweet, but not a pushover. Someone you can bring home to your mother and brag about. You want a boy that’s tough but also vulnerable. He can’t be weak; that’s not acceptable for a man. He must be the strong one. A man with a big dick but who doesn’t hold his dick in his personality. A hopeless romantic that is also a freak in bed. Someone who spoils you constantly and gives you everything you want. A boy who never makes you cry, but who always wipes your tears. You want a boy who has a sense of humor but knows where to draw the line. He must get along with your friends, but not so much that it becomes a “threat” to your relationship.

You might think that this guy only exists in your mind. You’re right.

If you want love, lower your expectations. If you want love, choose a boy and love him, and if he’s got a thing for feet, say “fuck it, sweep me off them.”

You want a girl who’s hot but won’t admit it. You don’t want her to be overly confident; god forbid. You want a girl who’s independent but not so independent that she doesn’t need you. You want a girl that’s outgoing, but not overly flirtatious. A girl that will always laugh at your jokes and make you a damn sandwich when you ask. Classy on the streets but a freak in the sheets. A girl who can chill with the guys but also knows when to dress up. A girl that loves you but never gets jealous when you talk to other girls. A girl who will blow you when you tell her to and is okay with you shoving her head down….down. Who is athletic but not overly muscular. Who knows how to party but isn’t sloppy.

You might think that this girl only exists in your mind. She was real, but she died last week when the last guy told her she wasn’t good enough.

If you want love, lower your expectations a lot. If you think your dick is a gift, I can promise you it’s not. If you want love, just pick a girl and love her, then whip out your dick and let the girl you love decline the offer.

We want someone to share life with,  but who will give us space. We want perfect, and we never settle for less. We want the perfect life, perfect husband or perfect wife.

If you want love, lower your expectations. Perfection is overrated.

 

Somewhere along the way..

This week has been one of the worst weeks of my life.

I took a lot of pills on Monday, and all people keep saying is why? I have relived that night in my head every night since as I try to fall asleep. All I can remember is sitting in my car and crying. And not being able to stop. I remember my body shaking as I dialed my dad’s number in hopes that he could make the thoughts go away. I lost all control. Somehow my thoughts kept trailing back to one thing….the pills I had in my bag. I don’t know what it was that made me WANT to take all of those pills. The feeling that I had to take them in order to be okay again. I just remember grabbing a handful and taking them, hoping that maybe it would stop the pain.

Ever since, the question lingers, did I want to hurt myself? Did I want to die? The truth is I don’t know. What I can tell you is that in those moments, I wasn’t scared to die. I was so close to taking the whole bottle. And I easily could have. It would have been as easy as taking a sip of water and going to sleep hoping to never wake up. But instead I took five. And in those moments, I can tell you that there is only one reason I did not die that night.

I chose love. As I sit here writing this with tears rolling down my face, I am surrounded by love. Always. I guess sometimes I forget. Sometimes I don’t realize how loved I truly am. The moment one person rejects me or turns me away, it seems I can only focus on those who have left. I forget to remember all those who have given me unconditional love. I forget to remember the people who answer my 3 a.m. phone calls, who tear apart the boys who don’t treat me right, who know that giving me a hug and telling me you love me may be all I need. It may not fix everything, but I am a hopeless romantic. I always have been. I guess that’s why I’m still here. I believe that there is love in the world. I believe that love exists in all forms: friendship, family, and deep, awe-inspiring love. It exists everywhere. We just have to choose to see it.

And sometimes I forget. But I’ve chosen to remember again. I’ve opened my eyes.

As we grow older

When I was 10 years old, I had my first “boyfriend.” I remember trying to impress him and how he always wanted to give me hugs after school. I remember wanting to push him away when he wouldn’t let go.

When I was 12, I had a crush on a boy in my science class. I remember thinking it was love, although he never talked to me outside of class.

When I was 14, boys would take pictures of my ass at school and send them to their friends. I remember feeling embarrassed, like my body was on display for all to see. Boys would always tell me what a nice ass I had, and how they liked to stare at it in the hallway. I remember feeling violated, like a piece of meat that was made for their enjoyment.

When I was 15, a boy in my class tried feeling me up under a table. I remember trying to pull away only for his grasp to tighten on my thigh. I remember being too afraid to tell anyone for fear that I would be called a “slut” or that I was “asking for it.” I remember trying to sit as far away from him as I could from that day on. I remember feeling scared for my own well being.

When I was 16, a boy invited me over to his house and told me I could not leave until I had sex with him. I remember being scared that he was so much bigger than me and that the tale of losing my virginity would become a horror story. I remember the thoughts of self hatred going through my head as I went down on him, hoping that if I did this, he would let me go home. I remember feeling like I was just a tool for his entertainment.

When I was 18, my ex-boyfriend asked me to come over and get back together, only to fuck me, ask me to leave, and stop talking to me. I came over just to be spanked, beaten up, and disheveled before he decided he had no more use for me.

When I was 19, and every day since, I have experienced being groped at parties, having my ass smacked, and hearing people tell me I have a nice body. When I was 19, nothing was different. Nothing had changed. I still felt as used and objectified as ever. And I still do.

Leaving the past..in the past

This is always something that I have struggled with in every aspect of my life. I have always known this to be one of my weaknesses, but for some reason, it’s never changed. It is so hard for me to look upon a past event as exactly that…the past. I guess what I’m saying is that it’s hard for me to let go of things, whether that’s a past relationship, the death of a family member, fights with loved ones, or emotionally traumatizing events. I have always seen the past to be a reflection of who I am today and what has made me who I am in this very moment.

Believe me when I say that this is really hard for me to admit, much less put in writing. But I have had so many relationships ruined too soon because I couldn’t stop comparing myself and my present experiences to the past. I let this idea form in my head that if one person treated me poorly, then so would the next one. I let the past control my emotions. I let it build unnecessary walls around my heart. And yes, it’s always good to protect yourself, but what I was doing was far beyond that. I had let my past experiences block out all opportunity to be happy.

It seems that whenever something good starts to progress, a switch goes off in my head. I wish it didn’t. I wish that this switch didn’t make me push those away who care about me the most. I wish I could trust people more than I currently do, especially those who deserve it. I have lost so many people to this flaw that it’s time to start changing it. I know it will take so much time, but I need to start realizing that who I am today is exactly that-who I am TODAY. I can be whoever I want today. It doesn’t have to be the same person that made poor choices two months ago. I can always change, and the past does not define me now or in the future. I plan to make a change.

Today

I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I had a day like this. Where I cannot stop crying for no reason at all. Where I can’t think about tomorrow or the day after because I cannot control my emotions. Where I can’t breathe because of my fucking anxiety attacks. I hope to god that whoever’s reading this, you never have to experience an anxiety attack. I would not wish it upon anyone. Feeling completely out of control of your body and emotions is one of the scariest things. My anxiety makes it hard to breathe, and I just feel like I’m slowly suffocating. God it’s fucking scary.

And I hate when people ask why I’m crying or why I’m having an anxiety attack because half the time I don’t even know. Sometimes I just wake up and want to cry. Sometimes I just sit in the shower and cry for 30 minutes for no reason at all. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night with tears rolling down my face. Sometimes I can’t breathe because of my anxiety. I hate that no one understands. I hate feeling so alone when I have days like this.

Here’s a little look into one of my bad days. Like I said, I’m definitely not cured of my depression. I still have bad days. And today fucking sucks.