Category: Personal Growth

Never forget.

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Elephants don’t forget.. or mostly they don’t. It can be a bit of an exaggeration. I have always been highly interested in the concept of how much they likely remember though and the connections they maintain throughout their lives. Elephants can live for many years during which they follow a matriarch. They are far more likely to follow a 50 year old matriarch over a 30 year old one. They prefer to follow one who is experienced and wise. 

Last night,  I could barely sleep at all. I must have tossed and turned the entire night and when I finally did fall asleep, I woke up early and laid in bed next to him for hours. The whole house was so silent and all I could think about was the burn of a new tattoo on the back of my neck. Something had stirred within me all night.. and my past– my journey– was burned on the back of my neck. I can’t explain it. Through my relationship with him over the past two years, I have had to really stop and confront my demons and it has been so painful at times. Sometimes I even feel ugly for my insecurities or unlovable. For awhile, I struggled with having them at all. I wanted to be perfect, the way I am sure that he thought I was when we first started dating. But I am not perfect and I shouldn’t try to be.. and he loves me anyway. I am learning that too. 

And for all of the times that I feel ugly for the anxiety inside as I work through all of the baggage that I’d hidden in a closet somewhere instead of dropping off on the side of the road as I should have, this tattoo is a beautiful picture of that struggle. It’s a reminder.. my reminder.. of all that I have come from and all that I have to look forward to. My experiences only make me stonger.

“Forget what hurt you but never forget what it taught you.” 

Exception

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Love is.. a look, a feeling, and a conversation. It’s still butterflies on a hundredth date, a favorite meal prepared on a special day and favorite meal prepared on an exhausting one—for you, when the last thing you want to do is make it yourself.   Love is believing.. in someone apart from yourself. It is believing that someone other than you will care about your dreams as much as you do and will push you further than anyone else has ever dared, further than you can even push yourself.

Love is trusting.. that there will be fights and catastrophes and shit moments. The sun might be hidden by clouds for months, friends might come and go, family may feel non-existent but none of it matters because you still have that one and you will always have that one.

Love is knowing.. that you are cared about every. single. day. Even on the ones where you feel unlovable.

Love does not inflict pain. It will never tell us we’re not good enough even in our lowest moments when we could give more if we only had it in us. Love is not bruises and bite marks or waking up and just wanting to go back to sleep at 3 in the afternoon.  Love does not leave its mark on our body but on our soul as it sets it on fire in the most amazing way possible.

Love is that one exception who just walks in one day when you least expect it and you thought you had every window closed, locked, and bolted down.

Everyone deserves their exception ❤

Unsettled

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I just want to be a good person. I just want to have an impact on this world.. even if only in my little world. When the anger and the ugliness of the events around me touch the surface of my life, every now and then unsettledness stirs within me, it permeates my day. None of it matters. I can’t change the belief system of someone else through a well thought out facebook comment. I don’t even want to. I can argue and shift and argue some more. None of it matters. When I am gone, no one will remember the things that I believed in. They will only remember the things that I did.

Maybe it’s enough.

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When I was 20, I used to walk to work every day. My dad worked construction, and every day I would walk by his work site on my way to work and if I didn’t see him, I’d spot his car. Somehow it was comforting. I was walking from my first apartment to my new job, saving up for my first car. I was on my own, I was safe, and walking by that site every day only added to the familiarity and the first feeling of home in many years. I needed that, I needed him.

This year, I turned 29. I didn’t hear much from my dad but I think that I am realizing that it is alright. This past year has been one of growth in a lot of ways. Growing up, my dad really wasn’t there for me in a lot of ways but I grew up to understand him and all that he couldn’t really give. That year that I was 20 was the year that he turned up on my doorstep. We started to get coffee.. A lot. We talked about my hopes, my dreams, my fears.. good days and bad days. He listened through it all. Some days, he still let me down but that was alright, he was giving me something that he’d never given before. He was listening.

I haven’t seen much of my dad this year. I miss him. This last visit with him he talked a lot about politics and baseball. He didn’t ask very many questions and I realized then what he had clearly already come to understand—that I don’t need him anymore—not in the way that I used to. Through everything, I have been alright and there are others who need him more. He said it during one of our phone conversations last year, “I always knew that I would never have to worry about you.” And maybe, that is enough. To know that for the man who has given everything of himself to everyone around him, I have never given a single sleepless night.

Outside the box.

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Twenty seven… I was twenty seven years old and still I had never opened my heart to someone who might break it. I had never even opened my hand to allow in some else’s much less something breakable. Who does that? Mostly those who get hurt and sometimes those who get lucky. At twenty seven, I am independent, I am strong, and I don’t believe in love. Love is fleeting. Love almost certainly goes away in time. I don’t need fleeting. I don’t need love.

And then enters a man who takes everything that I know and turns it upside down. He talks to me; I don’t look at his face. He texts me; I (intentionally) wait an hour to reply. He tells me he’s taking my wall down; I don’t believe him. I have a whole lifetime of research to refer to. He’ll be gone in twenty minutes. No worries here.

But he just keeps coming back, again and again. He doesn’t stopping looking at me, he doesn’t stop texting and he doesn’t go away. Who is this person? More importantly– why the fuck me?

It took so long for me to realize what kind of box I’d placed myself in. I’d spent a good deal of time in my late teens/ early twenties telling myself just how strong I was, and how brave. Look at me! I don’t need a single soul to get by. I have come back from the bottom, taken nothing and made it something amazing. Yes– and yet, here I was in the crappy little box I’d placed myself in and marked in big black letters: DAMAGED. Powerful and strong for me and those who needed me. Too damaged for those who wanted me. I was selling myself and the possibilities so short and mostly due to a fear of failure. I didn’t want to try and then fail so I just didn’t try at all. But not this time. Not with this one.

It’s over nine months later and I’ve not only let him through my wall but so deeply into my life. We laugh, argue, cry (that one’s all me), we kiss and we make up and I’ve only recently stopped looking for him to walk out the door and out of my life. It’s a process. It’s not easy. It never could be. But he makes easier. And that’s all I’ve ever needed.