"Hey, I know we haven't met. Show me your boobs."

I was on Tinder a year ago, if you remember, for a week.  I laughed most of the time, got some great writing material, didn’t take it seriously, but in the midst of my laughter, I did make a couple of male “pen pals.” What I mean by this is that I found no reason to actually end up meeting them in person, we friended each other on Facebook, and shot a few texts back and forth. 

Now what I am about to say shouldn't be shocking because we know all about Tinder.  But believe it or not, you run into these situations regardless of where you meet a person. 

I haven’t talked to this one guy for a year because he blew it with me pretty much immediately.  He FaceTimed me when I said I was in bed.  He was obviously hoping I was naked. Instead, he found me in a pitch-black room.  I was cackling to myself because I am evil like that and I thought it was funny that I was in the dark and he couldn’t see anything.  I thought he was a disrespectful, desperate douche bag and I was no longer interested in giving him a chance.  Here’s the thing…I haven’t met you.  You have never bought me dinner.  You haven’t opened a door for me.  But I am going to FaceTime you naked? Come on now, douche bag.  Anyway, he randomly texted me last week.  I was polite.  Hi, how are you, thanks for asking….big mistake.  I was still not interested because of the FaceTime thing, plus he had stupid, cheap looking tattoos.  How did I know? Because HE was shirtless when he FaceTimed me.  So this past Friday, he asked me what I was doing on Saturday.  I said “Going to a Mardi Gras themed birthday party.”  He told me not to show my boobs to anyone and only he could see them.  SERIOUSLY?????  Come on!!! Who says that???

What the hell is wrong with people?

Here’s what I wanted to say to this guy:

1.)   I have never met you.

2.)   I can show my boobs to whomever I want because I don’t have a boyfriend and it sure as hell isn’t you. 

3.)   I am not the type that goes around showing my boobs to people even when I am “allowed.”

4.)   You’re disgusting. 

5.)   Your tattoos are lame.

I am just repulsed by these kinds of guys.  I wish I could say that he is the first man to talk to me like that, but he isn’t.  It’s almost like some men assume that all women want ridiculous amounts of attention and commitment, or maybe they fake it thinking that’s what you want and then once they sleep with you they disappear? I don’t know because it doesn’t work on me.

If I had to choose between dating in the year 2016 or kissing lepers like Mother Theresa, I would take leprosy.  Luckily I can just enjoy my life and be single and write blogs about the guys who disrespect and annoy me. 

I am so over it.  I just want to put a big sign on my face saying “I murder people” just so I will be left alone. 

Just a Leaf

Again, I pulled from my book "642 Things to Write About."  The prompt was "Write about a tree from the point of view of one of its leaves."

Here's what I got:

Curious Leaf. 

I can't wait until fall.  I hear about it, but I am not sure it even exists.  I only know of one season since I was just a young bud on my branch and therefore so much of my life is pondering whether or not this season is real.  The tree says to have faith, I will meet the fall.  He says he's seen things I haven't, but I'm not so sure.  How can I believe in something I have never witnessed myself?  He says I will prefer the season I am in right now, but that's hard to believe.  I am plagued with the mundane and crave excitement! 

If there is another season, I can't wait.  Every day, I am irritated by the leaves closest to me.  They all seem so unified and content to be where they are.  They believe the tree about the seasons and how they change.  I ask them how and why they just believe, but they don't have a logical answer, which makes me feel confused and alone.  I am not like the other leaves. I am tired of the same colors around me, they rejoice in them.  And I am bored of seeing the same patch of sky, they honor it.  I want to see the sun and moon from a different place, it's like they don't wonder what else is out there.  I just don't want to be here anymore.  Plus, if I have to hear one more stupid joke about nuts from the leaf next to me, you know, the leaf who has a big brown spot on his face? I am going to go insane. 

Every day I beg the tree to ask the sky for a nice breeze to take me away so I can get away from these chattering, quivering, petals. All they do is sing about the sunshine and praise the rain.  And every day, the tree tells me to appreciate the season I am in, that one day things will be different.  He says soon it will be cold and I will die and I will be wishing for the greener days that are upon me in the present. Hmphhh.  Ok, tree.  

The other leaves call him the Giver of Life, which I suppose quite literally, he is.  But he's also 300 years old.  What does he know about being a leaf? He's a tree.  He has roots that don't allow him to move.  He is just stuck in his ways, the same way he is stuck in the ground.  I want to fly!  I want to fly far away from here!  He doesn't know how I feel up here, stuck in this hell, stuck on a branch.  A tree can't relate to a leaf, no matter how hard he tries.  He says he knows what's best for me.  And then I am annoyed.  I want everyone to leave me alone while I wait.  

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I began to turn orange, which was exciting.  I had never seen such vibrant, different colors.  But it did not last long, just as the tree had said.  One time he said youth is wasted on the young and I believed at the time that he was just mad at his bark because it was so wrinkly and course.  But as the days started getting colder and colder, I too began to look brown and ugly and I began to understand the tree. It seemed as if the tree had been telling the truth about it all, but I was too proud to tell him.  Instead, I told him I loved the color brown and that it suited me.  

Then one night,  the wind blew so hard, I heard a snap.  Before I could register what was happening,  I felt myself soaring through the air with the wind under my belly, which was lovely.  But it did not last long.  The wind had had enough and down I came, never to be carried by the wind again.  I have been raked over and over again and blown from here to there with no power over myself.  I miss the old tree.  I miss the leaves who have all been scattered in the wind.  I can't fly because I am dependent on a breeze and I have no branch to anchor me to safety.  I am stuck.  The old tree was right.  I should have appreciated the green season.  I should have appreciated the rain, feeling the wind on my face, and the sun and the moon.  I should have believed that the season would one day change.  

Youth is most definitely wasted on the young. 

A Love Letter to Someone You Hate

My sister-in-law bought me this book for Christmas and I am so excited to start pulling from it.  I’ve been lucky for the most part and rarely experience writer’s block because I always seem to have something to say, even if it’s not important, which is irritating or superfluous to others at times, I am sure.  But even though I am rarely at a loss for words, I haven’t been writing at all and it’s because I have been reading a lot at night.   I realize and have possibly accepted (at least this month) that there is only enough time in my packed-full days to choose between the two. 

Laziness is so confusing to me.  Sure, I realize that not everyone is the same, but I do genuinely wonder how someone can stand being lazy when there are thousands of things to do before you die and no matter how motivated and busy and energetic you are, you still will never get to do them because of the time constraint.  I could live until I am 100 and still never come close to doing everything I ever want to do. This is actually a huge issue and struggle for me and it’s part of my New Year’s Resolution to try to just enjoy what I experience, choose between things without guilt, focus, and stop being such a perfectionist all the time, so I am sure I will be writing about it more. 

Anyway, I thought it would be fun to choose one of these 642 things to write about today since I am snowed in and have already read two books.  The first topic I chose was  “Write a love letter to someone you hate.” Muahahahaha!!!  Intriguing, except there is just one problem—I don’t hate anyone, honestly.  I dislike some people.  I am indifferent with some people.  But I don’t hate anyone.  So instead, I imagined what I would say if I were someone I love and was writing to the person who hurt them. I am usually more angry when someone I love is hurt rather than if it happens to me anyway. 

So here’s what I came up with…..

Dear Incredibly Talented Asshole,

It is amazing how beautifully you have perfected your tendencies to be a selfish, indecent person.  I want to applaud your ability to manipulate so meticulously, the will in which you must have in order to do it, and the speed at which you are able to throw yourself into a complete state of denial about how you make other people feel and how horrible your actions are.  I really must get some tips on how you sleep at night.  Ambien?  Melatonin?  Please share!!!  J  I want to tell you that I am in awe that you can wake up and look at yourself in the mirror knowing what your motives are.  It is truly one of the wonders of the world that no one has run over you with their car on purpose or by accident and because of your existence, I am a firm believer that karma is not a real force in the universe that you so blatantly shit on on the reg.  So thank you for clearing that up for me!!

Remember that time that you thought you could make yourself feel better by making me feel like nothing?  I want to tell you that I am thankful that you made me a better, stronger person and that in the end, I’ve got nothing but love for the entire crappy experience I had with you.  Thank you for being so despicable toward me that not even the sneaky, lying, trickster we refer to as nostalgia, can distort my memories of you.  Remember all the times that you left me not only high and dry, but also confused and crying and scared?  Remember putting me through the spin cycle?  Thank you for every single time that you hurt me and made me feel weak!  I am stronger today! 

I realize that I am being a tad bit passive aggressive right now because I do have some emotion left.  I have like .000009% craps to give left in my pocket and I do honestly apologize for that .000009%.  But this love letter is the last straw.  As soon as it’s mailed, I will never think of the stupid, illogical points you always seem to make in an argument…with EVERYONE.  I will never think about your annoying hats that I disregarded because I truly loved you and because love is as blind as Helen Keller was.  I won’t even remember the time you crapped your pants at Walmart and had to buy some $5 pants just to get home.  I won’t think about how much I hated when you said you read a book and in reality, you read 20 pages out of 300.  That isn’t reading a book, just so you know. It’s super annoying to me. AND FOR THE RECORD….the phrase is DENIAL IS NOT JUST A RIVER IN EGYPT.  NOT THE NILE!  You sound like an idiot and if you ever want a girlfriend, this should be corrected ASAP.  Finally, I want you to know that although I will never again think of you and feel any kind of emotion simultaneously, I will always have the strength that I gained from the marks you left on me.  And for that, you will always be remembered, Incredibly Talented Asshole. 

With Love,

Me.

P.S.  And stop singing Oasis like Oasis.  Wonderwall doesn’t have to be impersonated. 

Jingle Ball

I had a panic attack at a Justin Beiber concert last night. 

Yes, I just said that.

I took my daughter and her friend because I love her very much and I am accustomed to doing things that I don’t particularly like to do because I want her to be happy and healthy.  All mothers who love their children are.  I got fat when I was pregnant.  I had a needle stuck in my spine and went through a scary surgery.  I changed a thousand dirty diapers and wiped snotty noses.  I went to a Beiber concert.  As a mother, you don’t think twice.  

I kind of knew I wasn’t going to particularly enjoy a concert that included Nick Jonas and like 5 other people I have never heard of, but what I wasn’t expecting is that I would walk in and feel like I was going to die.  We were very very high in Philip’s arena and it dawned on me that I have only been in the box when I have gone to Hawk’s games, so I had no idea what it felt like to be so high on such a steep mountain of people.   I have never been afraid of heights, but for whatever reason, this terrified me.  I started getting dizzy and nauseous and couldn’t breathe and the show hadn’t even started.  I was walking to my seat as if I were on the edge of a cliff because it felt gravity was pulling me into the giant pit.  I was the only person sitting down and looking like I was going to die.  Lindsey had a great time.  Her friend had a great time.  I looked really old and miserable.  

It was 4 HOURS LONG, so by the time Beiber came on stage, I really was ecstatic to see him because I knew it was almost over.  I almost cheered for Beiber.  I really almost did.   

I saw tons of alcohol being sold when I first walked into the arena and I thought “That’s really odd.  I guess the booze are sold for our sanity?”  Then I wondered how many parents might be driving their kids home under the influence. But by the time Beiber was on stage, I realized that adults WITHOUT children surrounded me.  That fact really sunk in after the older, dancing, drunken woman who was just above me slung her beer….all over my head. 

To see Lindsey that happy and excited, even for just a moment in her life, made the claustrophobia, the fear of falling, the loud, unrelenting teenage shrieks, the bad music, the horrific lyrics, the beer....on my head....totally worth it. 

    

Dusty Corners

I believe that the best gift you can give the people around you is having an understanding of who you are and loving yourself.  I love the quote above but it made me think....How can you have an appreciation for such a person if you don't know who the hell you are and what dustballs you're hiding? 

What is the best version of me?  What’s the best version of you?  To me, it’s a person who understands and forgives, doesn’t give into old demons but instead conquers new adventures, breaks bad patterns, loves better, gives more, forgives, lets go, changes, always tries for the better, understands his or her motives and actions, and in some lovely way, feels free and loves others as if they are free too. I have believed all of this for a long time and genuinely have tried getting “there” (as if it’s a final destination, haha) on my own.  I have always attempted to be self-reflective, to grow and be aware and although I have failed miserably at times, I have tried nevertheless.  Writing is amazing for the soul and it’s huge for me.  I wish everyone would give it a whirl.  It allows you to get things out that you don’t know are trapped inside of you and you do, without a doubt, grow.  In fact, I have grown to the point that sometimes I cringe when I see things I have written over the years. Even with writing to cleanse my soul though, I hit walls almost a year ago.  I hadn’t realized it but I had built walls over time around myself thinking it would ensure a different path, but when you lock yourself in a box and that box is there to serve as a source of protection, you don’t go down any path at all.  You are caged.  And most of the time, you end up repeating your past anyway within that cage by having a false sense of security.  Anyway, I started feeling like I was damned if I do, damned if I don’t.  

I haven’t divulged any of this because it’s so personal, but Merry Christmas!  Here is the best advice I can give you this year.  

An amazing person who has become one of my best friends found herself in my little trust circle.  I described some of the baggage I felt I was carrying around and she recommended an amazing counselor.  I have a tendency to be aware and analyze to the point that I think I can conquer things mentally, but then when things still haven’t totally fit, I have been perplexed by myself. I decided an outside observer might be helpful, an observer who has studied human behavior and understands the brain. I have been to counseling before but I never felt like they pushed me and quite honestly, I felt like I was smart enough to outsmart them, which is silly because why are you going if not to transform and dig at your baggage? I only gave them enough to give me a little bit of relief, but I never allowed myself to be vulnerable to the point that I would say things that would terrify and upset me and make me feel unhinged.  And if something did hit a nerve with past counselors, I knew to just not bring that up again or I wouldn’t go back at all.  This time it was different because I got to the point that I knew I couldn’t slap a Band-Aid on it anymore and so I made a commitment to go every week.  

Last March, my dad got sick.  That coupled with some other feelings I was having at the time kind of created a perfect storm.  I eventually figured out that his sickness was triggering some of the other feelings I was having.  I went in and said, “These are the things I need help with.  I want to understand my patterns, coping mechanisms, and I either want to get over something, grow out of it, or learn to cope with it. (This was one issue in particular.)”  I was so specific about my agenda that I laugh about it now because although it was helpful that I had such specific reasons for going, the turns I have taken and reasons I have cried, the ways I have changed, gotten stronger, become more aware and gotten to know myself are so…I don’t have words.  I highly recommend taking that leap.  You will hit a point where you won’t want to go back, and that’s exactly when you should go back. 

Below are some things that counseling is teaching me to do.  These tools will help you anywhere whether it’s work, with your kids, your friends, but especially in a romantic relationship because let's face it, that's usually the person closest to you, ideally.  A lot of people think counseling is stupid or that you are self-absorbed by going, but you won’t be so self-absorbed with other people if you are less twisted in your own messy baggage.  And if you are single, the best thing you can give your future spouse is a clear understanding of who you are.  You will pick a partner better if you can learn to do all of this and learn who you are….

I have learned…

1.    To be aware. I am more aware of what I am feeling and thinking and why.  I try to pay attention when I am stuffing my feelings or “analyzing” them to the point that I have a false sense of security.  

2.    Sometimes forgiveness isn't enough to let go.  I always thought that forgiving everyone who has hurt me was enough to move on.  Then I realized that it’s almost impossible to completely let go of what someone has done to you when you keep letting it dictate what you do in the future, even if you don’t hate or resent them.  For example, let’s say you have forgiven your father for making you assume the role of the adult, but then you surround yourself by people that always end up making you the “caretaker” because you know how to do it and you are comfortable in the role, if you continue to find yourself in the same situation with other people, your past is still your present and you are carrying it around regardless of whether you've forgiven anyone.  I have carried my baggage around not because I haven’t forgiven people, but because I keep finding myself in similar scenarios.  It’s odd, but sometimes you find yourself comfortable with the things that you agonize over and that keep you tied up, but only because it’s familiar, not because it’s healthy.  I have found more peace with those who have hurt me not because I like them anymore or hate them less, or anything like that…it’s because I am learning to expel similar situations from existing presently. 

3.     When I am uncomfortable, I ask myself why.  You know how if you aren’t scared to do something, you aren’t really being brave by doing it? That’s what this is like.  I am learning to be brave when I am uncomfortable by sitting with it and asking myself why I am uncomfortable, rather than sticking my head in the sand.

4.     When something feels comfortable, I ask myself why.  Am I comfortable because it’s truly good for me or the person is good for me?  Or am I just staying in an old, unhealthy pattern because it feels more natural? Am I afraid of something that feels uncomfortable because it’s new and better for me? 

5.     I pick up on patterns more easily. I cannot emphasize how important it is to examine your patterns. 

6.     I have triggers that make me react the same way that I did when I was a child. Certain things make me react a certain way. It is important to know what sets you off and WHY.  I ask myself why and then I try to cope in a healthy way, versus one that will only hurt me.    

7.     The child version of myself is still very present.  The things I am truly afraid to let myself feel today all started when I was a child and I have begun to understand why those things feel like mountains as an adult.  In fact, I have remembered things I had either forgotten about or repressed...yeah THAT was awesome.  Not.  You only repress the stuff that sucks.  

8.     That I deserve better. If you picture yourself as a child, what would you want for her or him?  It’s easy to say what you would want for your child, but often we love our children more than we love ourselves…at least I do.  When I started to picture myself as an innocent child, I forgave her for the mistakes she made as a teenager and adult and I wanted to hug her and protect her and tell her to let go of all that was holding her back. We were all innocent kids at one point and we need to remember that we are worthy of being treated well and being loved like we would want our child to be treated and loved…no matter what decisions we have made or what's been done to us thus far. 

9.     To be gentler on myself.  I am a perfectionist. I am too hard on myself.  I strive for a lot and wear myself out.  I have always felt like a whiner if I am not tough.  Someone used to tell me when I was a little girl to “suck it up” when I cried, so I did. And although being positive and smiley is great, it's those people who sometimes suffer silently and don't let on that they need help. Well, I have learned to cry without getting a giant ball of fire in my throat from holding it back and I am learning that it's ok to mess up sometimes. 

10. Figure out what you want for yourself, what's keeping you from having it, and start working on it. I have a plan that is both firm and bendy. I think one way to say this is that I'm learning to set up healthy boundaries. I know what I want, but I'm also open to more than I was a year ago. Ask yourself the questions that will change your life....and then get through the painful stuff.  You will be bound up until you do. 

I have a lot of shit together in my life, but I also have those “dusty corners” and the reason I went to counseling is so they wouldn’t haunt me anymore. Sweeping the corners sucks sometimes, but you find more peace looking over and seeing them clean from time to time rather than watching them get dirtier and dirtier.   I didn’t write about soul mates today, but I truly believe that to love someone else’s soul, you must first love and understand your own-that's why I said at the beginning of this post, the best version of yourself is the best gift you can give someone else.  

I hope if you are reading and feel like you need to get a broom out that this will be the year you do that for yourself.  It is truly worth every tear, dollar, and minute.