Posted in Being Vulnerable

Journal 9

I’m getting a new tattoo tomorrow.

Water color.

It’s my first big color tattoo.

I’m a bit nervous I’ll hate it.

The tattooer sent me her sketch and I hated it.

But I didn’t tell her I did.

I told her the things I liked about it and the things I liked about my inspiration picture I sent her and asked if it’s doable to implement those specific likes.

She said she’ll be free handing it and yes it’s easy to implement.

I responded, I trust you.

But fuck I’m nervous.

But I’ve seen her portfolio.

I like her work.

I really do.

So I know it won’t be shit.

But trust, man.

That’s hard for me.

I’m controlling at best.

More leaning ocd.

I waver between impulsive and compulsive on the daily.

So for her to say she’ll freehand it

Is like me saying let me just eat everything in the kitchen and see if I get fat.

It’s insane to me.

Yet, I’m attracted to it.

I want it.

I want to be open to trust.

To releasing my control.

I want to be free to receive her art.

So

Pray for me

Or

Whatever

Because I’m about to pay almost $1,000 for freedom.

Posted in My Poetry

Dear Diane

I feel aligned with you.
I see me
In you.
When I first met you,
I knew.
I could feel your energy too.
The perfectionism, pride and potential
were swimming around you.

Me and you.
You and me.
We’re bonded.
Don’t you see?

Our past pain
Has brought us together
In hopes
that one day
We’d find to be,
What I would consider,
The key.
For your forgiveness of your trauma has unlocked the mystery.

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 My Poetry

Morning giggles

I see words like morsels

Little nibble nibbles

I taste their colors

Their exotic tendencies

They try to play coy with me

Because they know I can’t resist

But what can I say?

I’m a hungry writer looking for her next bite.

Because momma’s gotta eat.

Posted in Victory Over Verbal Abuse

I am part of all. I belong.

I am part of the human race and therefore I should defend and love all humans. However, the second part, “I belong” is a harder one to feel. But Brene Brown said it perfectly in an interview when she said, “At the end of the day, I belong to me. ” What she meant by this, is at the end of the day, you have to stay true to you.

And it is so fascinating how alot of us share this feeling and think we are alone in it. When in actuality, ALOT OF US feel it, which means there is community in feeling like we don’t belong.

But the beautiful thing is that once we talk about it with each other, we blow that fucking lie right open. Because we do belong! We may not belong in our biological family or school or church or city, but we belong to the world. And isn’t that greater? Isn’t that more beautiful? Isn’t that more powerful?

We belong to the world, the human race and ultimately ourselves.

And we are not alone.