Posted in Being Vulnerable

If it wasn’t for writing

If it wasn’t for writing,

I’d probably go insane.

It’s the only way I know

how to really feel.

My emotions come in forms of letters,

which magically get spun into words.

And I, the observer, sit back and watch as the pen takes me.

It’s as if the hand that moves the pen isn’t mine.

I can feel it moving,

but my mind is not the one thinking the words.

It’s almost spiritual, you could say.

It’s as if the universe knows I struggle with talking

and therefore graciously lets me share through writing.

Written words have always made more sense to me.

They’re intellectually raw and more difficult to produce,

which I tend to prefer.

I guess it’s because I have always lived in my head.

So for me,

writing comes naturally.

Yet, it may not always be pretty,

But neither are feelings.

In the end,

the value is in the effort

not in the display.

So please continue writing

I want to read all that you have to say.

Posted in Being Vulnerable

Going natural

So I have been jobless for two months now, which has given me plenty to reflect on.

Such as, my hair.

I stopped shaving when quarantine hit in mid March because we were working from home, but after a month of not shaving I started questioning why I even do it.

Is it for me or for them?

I have been shaving since I was in middle school, like most girls in my class, I just did what everyone else did. But now when I think about it, I was just a kid when I was told hair is ugly on women.

But what enraged me more than that, was when I researched the origin of women shaving in the United States I found it started because of Gillette’s advertisements. They saw an untouched market and pounced at the idea of having a bigger market share. And I understand this is the essence of capitalism and profit and all that, but does that justify the means?

Now I am called a hippy if I decide to stop shaving.

But what I really am is normal and natural and being myself.

And you are god damn right, I am triggered by this topic.

I believe it is justified to get enraged when my insecurities are being exploited for profit.

I truly hate these fucking advertisements that tell me I have a problem when in reality there is no problem. They are simply creating a problem in order to sell me their solution.

It is that simple, yet we fall for the bait every time.

We love our insecurities being validated. I don’t know why. I assume because it feels good to have someone tell us our hate for ourselves is legitimate.

It almost makes us feel justified for the daily inner loathing.

But what if we advertised differently?

What if we advertised honestly?

What if we encouraged people to be vulnerable and feel safe in their skin?

Wouldn’t that be better for humanity?

Don’t we want humanity to evolve positively?

The only way I see us evolving is if we stop falling for the corporate bait that tells us “we are not enough”.

Because that is what they are actually selling us.

And it is fucking bullshit.

(Link to article about Gillette) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_removal_of_leg_and_underarm_hair_in_the_United_States

Posted in Victory Over Verbal Abuse

I escaped into your belonging

When I was a girl all I wanted to hear was, “I support you.”

I wanted to be trusted with my ideas.

I wanted to be heard.

Instead, I was silenced.

I was bullied.

He would talk over me.

Ignore me.

Mock me.

Then when I would start to crumble he would throw in a last jab,

“Why are you crying?”, he’d sneer.

The patronizing was the final straw.

I retreated.

I stopped trusting.

I stopped crying.

I built a wall around my heart because if I couldn’t trust family, who could I trust?

I couldn’t even trust me.

For years I was bullied along with my sister and mother.

I thought it was normal.

I even dated men who were bullies.

Because I thought that was all I was worth.

Until I met you.

And everything changed.

You were the light I needed.

You were this glimpse of another reality.

One full of joy and kindness.

Without insecurity.

Without pain.

So I jumped.

I escaped into your belonging.

But unfortunately, with my jump came my pain.

My trauma.

What I thought I escaped, I actually dragged with me.

And now you are seeing it unraveling and the girl who laughed at all your jokes is drowning with the sharks and you can’t throw a life raft.

I’m sorry, babe.

But these sharks are mine and I can’t keep being rescued.

I have to learn how to survive with them on my own.

I have to do the work.

And maybe one day, with enough love, my sharks can turn into dolphins.

Posted in Relationships

Pen pals

He has a way with me.
The raise of his eyebrow.
The slant of his smile.
Funny how random
It all began.
Just one pen pal
To another.
He sent me a joke
And I responded.
Back and forth
Back and forth.
Until we reached for more.
But still we kept our
Distance.
I didn’t know his name
Or what he looked like.
It was all just a game.
For a month straight
We played this game.
Waiting everyday
For that one email
From each other.
Both scared
That if we escalated the stakes
The other would leave.
You see, the fun
Was in the mystery.
We could say anything
To each other
Because we truly believed
It was all make believe.
But then he asked to see me.
“Do you want to skype?”,
He asked.
And I was petrified.
I wanted him to stay
Alive
Only in my dreams.
I didn’t want the game to end.
Yet, my curiosity said yes.
And that night
I finally saw what he looked like.
And you could say,
I was more than surprised.
Because there in front of me
Was a remarkably above average
Australian man
With a slanted smile
And a sparkle in his eye.

And you best believe
I was goddamn awkward
On that video call.

It was like meeting
My crush for the first time
And him telling me
He liked me too.

But he handled it
Like a gentleman.
As he always tends to do.

And now
Two years later,
I sit here with him.
As if how we met
Never happened.

Because it feels like
I’ve always known him.
And
I like to believe
That’s true.

Posted in My Poetry

Natural rebellion

I have a natural rebellion
To the status quo
People say,
You can’t redesign the wheel,
But I care to try.
Im inspired by outsiders.
Women with hair.
Men with makeup.
And everyone
Undefined.
I love this new renaissance period
We seem to be exploring.
Everything feels
Up for debate
And I’m game.
Let’s start asking
The tough questions.
And let’s have fun
Along the way.
For life is meant
For curiosity.
Without it,
Who are we?

Posted in Being Vulnerable

Holding space for other’s pain

My sister emailed.

She is still in pain.

My choice to block her on every platform broke her heart.

She feels betrayed.

I know the feeling.

Because that’s why I blocked her.

I felt she took his side instead of mine and I was enraged.

After all this time, how could she?

But maybe I am mistaken.

Maybe I assumed incorrectly.

I tend to do that when I’m angry.

Assume the worst.

Blame everything on you

Because of course it’s not me.

So her email.

Her pain.

Feeling alone.

Again, I know the feeling.

When I moved from California to North Carolina when I was 23, I felt alone.

The only people I knew was

Me, myself and I.

And to top it off, my friend Teddy, who I was very close to at the time, stopped talking to me because his new girlfriend didn’t trust our friendship.

I don’t think he realized how painful that decision was for me.

I cried immediately when he told me we couldn’t talk anymore.

I sobbed realizing I was alone.

I was so utterly alone.

I had just moved across the country and I had no one.

All I had was my work.

And my mom.

I would call her everyday

During lunch.

Just because I needed to hear a familiar voice.

So I do understand my sister’s pain.

And I do understand I acted rashly in my anger.

And I apologized for what I did.

But I don’t expect it to go back to normal.

I’m not that naive.

I understand I cut a deep wound in her heart.

And since I have my own wounds, I know they don’t heal quickly or even smoothly for that matter.

I feel all I can do is just wait and hold space for her pain.

Because isn’t that what I would want if I were in her shoes?

Posted in Being Vulnerable

Being jobless

Man, what a ride.

I feel like I’ve experienced every emotion known to human kind.

I was first down.

Then further down.

I felt the instant tears of rejection on my face.

I could feel my heart seizing.

I couldn’t breathe.

I felt like they had broken up with me.

All I kept thinking was, josh was right.

I felt betrayed.

How could they do this to me?

I felt worthless.

And then in that moment I realized I finally could relate to others who lost their job.

Finally I could feel their tears.

Finally I could feel their fears.

I was one of them.

And it brought me such compassion.

And now a month later all I want to say is thank you.

Thank you for giving me the opportunity to feel this pain.

For without it, how could I relate?

Posted in Victory Over Verbal Abuse

Affirmation #3

My courage is shelter.
I never thought about it before, but it makes sense.
My spirit seeks shelter in order to feel safe just as I seek shelter with Joshua in order to feel safe.
And I have discovered this is a universal truth.
We cannot grow into our full potential if we do not feel safe.
And yet safety is so over looked.
When I was a child, I always felt safe with my mother. She comforted me from nightmares. She ran the tub when I had late night accidents. She protected me from my dad’s rage. She did everything a good mom should.
But as I grew up, I pushed her away.
My teenage mind could not relate any longer. And I became secretive and manipulative. Until one day I met a boy. A boy I loved. A boy I felt safe with. A boy who was kind and gentle.
And I grew with him.
I started telling him my pain and he would tell me his. And we would cry together. And I started to believe I was not alone in my suffering as his dad was abusive too.
So that was the beginning of finding my courage, but that courage took feeling safe first.
Which is why safety or shelter should not be over looked.

It is vital to our growth.
And sometimes it takes others to remind us we are brave.
And that is okay too.