Tag: humor

Passing My Prime

photo-1522263842439-347f062b8475Have you ever had a moment where you’ve felt you passed your prime? Maybe you wanted to run that marathon, but ever since you’ve reached your late 20’s, each day your body has increasingly resembled Benjamin Button at birth. Or, perhaps you’ve been fearful about the day those hot college kids next door would no longer see you as desirable? Asking for a friend… Well, I had my moment yesterday.

I was probably shoveling something in my mouth I’d regret later, as I finished up Sunday dinner with my friends. Prior to cleaning the leftovers off the table with my face, I talked about my passions for writing, and standup comedy. “Why don’t you try TikTok?” my friend said. I glared through his lenses, into his eyes, like he was about to take the last pastry on the table. Me? Nearly 29-year-old me, downloading an app saturated with girls so tiny, it looks like I just ate them for dinner? Watching my video after theirs would be like a “Then and now” clip of Macauley Culkin.

Thanks, but I’ll pass, was my initial thought. Why? Because my thoughts were telling me I’m too old for that. I’ve passed my prime and I should consider picking up embroidery and invest in a nice rocking chair. It’s just some teenybopper trend and I have better ways to spend my time. Maybe I will adopt a bunch of cats or learn to bake banana bread instead. 

I caught myself in the act of self destruction disguised as protection. Who says I’ve passed my prime? Who says TikTok couldn’t be an avenue for me to express my creativity and learn new skills? No, I’m not talking about dance skills. I will continue to leave that for the teenyboppers. 

Truth is, I haven’t passed my prime. I might have to come to terms with my metabolism working against me at this point, but on every other level, mental, spiritual, etc., I’ve never been stronger. Every day I am more prepared for the next. Every month I learn new things. Every year I become better and wiser. 

The best has yet to come. It’s a mindset more than anything. The future is uncertain, but malleable. You can choose if your life becomes a five star romantic comedy, or a box office bomb. I almost want to cringe because I might as well be holding a sign that says “Live, Laugh, Love” with a Starbucks Frappuccino in the other hand, but I’m not wrong. 

My dad is nearly 70 and has never been more successful in his career. He’s one of the happiest guys I know. His motto? “I’m excellent and better all the time.” Speaking of cringy… But hey, whatever works! My friend’s dad is nearly a decade younger, and has created a permanent indentation in the couch while he counts down the minutes until he can retire from the job he hates. His motto is probably “You smoke to enjoy it. I smoke to die.” Pretty sure he thinks he passed his prime in High school. 

The moral of this post is that wherever you are, you haven’t past your prime. You are at your prime because you’ve never known more than you do in this moment. Don’t waste your prime telling yourself that where you are isn’t good enough, or can’t take you to where you want to go. Time will continue to “tik” until it’s out, so remember you’re in your prime and make the most of it. Give this a like if you’re at your prime too! 

If you haven’t guessed, I made a TikTok account, so make me happy and add @brookelynlandon 

From Ho-ing It Up To Glow Up

photo-1583139937873-dddd56279d3dWhen I was a kid, I was the “problem child”. My parents had my sister and thought “What a wonderful experience. Let’s have another.” Then they had me and said… “So, what’s the return policy?” After I had my Emo phase. I painted my nails black, and wore only black clothes, with zippers everywhere. I’m pretty sure that’s when saying the word cringe became a thing, and I don’t think that was a coincidence. Then, I had my Californian, yogi, vegan stage, and you know I’m not vegan anymore because otherwise that would have been the first thing I said. Lastly, as of November, I entered a new phase. I fucked everybody. It was my hoe phase.

However, today is the day a new phase begins. I had an epiphany while talking about relationships with my friend this evening. In an instant, I was inspired to change my ho-ish tendencies. Not because I thought what I was doing was wrong or no longer enjoyable, but because I’ve had my fun, and I am ready to have fun in new ways. I’ve had so many great experiences, met incredible people, and shared a lot of special, intimate moments over the past several months. I’ve learned a lot, and even made friends for life. Yes, it is true that changing my ways will mean those types of experiences and connections will occur less, but I’ll tell you what benefits I think will come with this change. 

By making this shift, I will have the ability to put more energy and focus on my passions and hobbies. The newfound energy that I put towards projects and people, will allow me to experience new opportunities, ideas, and feelings. It will open me up in ways I wouldn’t have been able to before. The “What did he mean by that?” “If I ignore him long enough, will he get the hint?“ “What kind of psychopath tells me not to get attached, and the same night says he’s “Catching feelings”?” “Jesus Christ, another phone call? Is he going to ask me to come over and wipe his ass next?” “I think I’ve been friend zoned…. If you need me, I’ll be in the kitchen clearing out the fridge with my face.” moments will be much less frequent.

Overall, the good has certainly outweighed the bad. I wouldn’t be surprised if I miss this phase. I’m also concerned doing this could cause feelings of loneliness and have me craving for the kind of attention I’ve been used to getting.

Yet, whether change feels good or bad, it moves us forward. It helps us learn, grow, and create new momentum to help us evolve. Success comes from moving out of comfort zones, regardless of how we feel about it or what happens at first.

I would never want to take back anything that’s happened. The epiphany for change didn’t come about due to a negative experience. I just know it’s time to move on so I can level up and create more for myself. All I can do is move forward with confidence as I begin this new chapter, titled Glow Up Phase. Time to go from hoe to glow.

What’s your next phase?  

I’m Going To Break His Heart

EDCFF377-F6E2-4085-85FC-4BC533C5734DI’m in a pickle. I have to break someone’s heart and I don’t know how. I don’t want to, but there’s no way to go around it if I want to live my life with honestly and integrity. The last thing I want to do is ignore the guy. Being ghosted by someone you like is such a mind fuck, I might as well tell him the truth.

I’ve known him for several months now, but the last three weeks, we’ve gotten closer… not just emotionally. For anonymity and clarity, we will call him #61. The problem isn’t that I only want to sleep with a guy that I think will lead to marriage. If you’ve read some of my other blog posts, you probably could have figured that one out. The problem is, continuing this path will be me repeating an old toxic pattern that I refuse to relive.

Four years ago, I was in an on again off again “situationship” that lasted 6 months until I ended things for good. We will call him #20. He wanted to be my boyfriend and I was like… Nah, I’ll pass, but I’m down to keep doing what we’re doing. (I used a different choice of words at the time, but you get the idea.) #20 bent over backwards for me, while I took like one of those kids who pours all the fucking candy in their bag on Halloween when the basket on the doorstep says “Take ONE.” He was so much more invested and I knew it. It felt wrong, so I would end it in a “We can still be friends” way. It wouldn’t take long before we Netflix and chilled, and you can fill in the blank. It ended on good terms, but it still resulted in him moving to a different city the following day.

Not every “situationship” is that way. There’s another guy, #57, who does a lot for me too. He also puts his hands around my neck, and I like it if you catch my drift. Yet, there’s a similar investment and understanding. There’s a mutual satisfaction and expectation. For the record, they’re not just numbers, I genuinely like these people. I just think it’s pretty funny.

#61 is so sweet, caring, and sensitive. He wants nothing more than to love and be loved. I want nothing more than that for both of us, but not with each other. He wants to do things for me, hang out with me, and talk to me all the time. However, we are on totally different pages. If I’m being honest, I am also 99.8% sure that if things continue this way, he will soon start annoying me pretty consistently. I will certainly leave that out when I talk to him later this week.

Not only that, but I feel my brain shifting back to my #20 days when I’d wonder if he could do or help me with x, y, or z, anytime I didn’t feel like doing it myself. This week, I’ve needed a lot of help with transportation, technology and more, but I’ve grown, and intentionally outsourced help elsewhere. I grit my teeth as I read his text the other day saying “If there is anything I can do to help lemme know. The pleasure of helping you always feels good.” I then sighed as I looked up at the sky and thought “Bruh, really?”

I don’t want to be that person. I don’t want to take advantage of anyone. I don’t want relationships that are imbalanced, or to have guilt or fear of where things will go. I also hate this feeling of secrecy I have from not having told him how I feel. Is this what a day in the life of Elsa was like before her sister knew her powers?

I want to have people in my life that enhance my wellbeing and vice versa. I want to feel wanted, but want to want them back just the same. I want an equal investment of energy, and I can’t give him that which he deserves just as much.

I know ending things will not be easy. He’s so sensitive, and I know how hurt he will be. Yet, I’m not going to consciously waste my life repeating patterns that don’t serve anyone. I will be honest, empathetic, and do what I can to have him understand and accept the outcome. I would never want to leave him guessing what went wrong, and have him blame himself. Sometimes being honest feels wrong, but it’s always right.

My Three Biggest Insecurities

224AF776-9994-45C1-AA64-B463301356F6I think it’s safe to say, having insecurities is something we can all relate to. I don’t know why I feel so inclined to talk about my biggest insecurities, but I have a feeling this will make people laugh, and by the end, leave you feeling inspired. Not to mention, I’ll roast the shit out of myself, and who wouldn’t want to hear that? Without further ado, here are my three biggest insecurities.

Let’s start with my hair. Rather than my hair, I should say lack thereof. It’s so damn thin, I’m one hair pull away from looking like Danny DeVito. I brush my hair as carefully as Gollum polishing off his precious ring to avoid losing a single strand. Sometimes, I’m convinced I’m watching that scene in The Lord of The Rings when I see my reflection in the bathroom mirror first thing in the morning.

However, looking back, I remember one of my biggest insecurities growing up was my hair itself. I hated the way it looked, and straitened it for so many years that most people had no idea what my real hair actually looked like. Now, I love my Jew curls, and wish I could have seen the beauty in it then. I also wish I could see more of the beauty in whatever left of it I have now.

Next, we have my back. Sounds strange in theory, but it’s not when I’m walking in front of you, now looking like a mix between Danny DeVito and Jessica Simpson… During her pregnancy. There’s this tiny accumulation of fat in my mid to upper back that makes it seem as though I’m about to sprout wings. If I’m not careful, I’ll be able to fly myself back to the US for the holidays. At least I’d save some money. Maybe I’m being a little extra with that statement. I’m not waddling around like Eric Cartman right after Halloween or anything. It’s just not cute, and the thought of exposing my back in a bikini makes my wings shudder from nerves.

Yet, who’s to say it’s not cute? I remember seeing two girls in bikinis at a river while I was with a guy I had spent the last few weeks traveling with. One of the girls looked like she was just on the cover of Vogue Magazine. I said “Damn, look at her body!” He asked who I was referring too, and responded to my answer with “I like her friends body better.” To her side, was a girl who had a little belly, curves, and a relatable back roll. Nothing wrong with any of that, but I wasn’t expecting him to have that response while standing next to such a bombshell. He had little to no interest in miss wingless Vogue Cover Girl.

Lastly, (not actually last, but for the sake of time it is.) we have my mouth. Not my literal mouth. People pay to have lips as fat as mine. I’m taking about my inability to shut the fuck up sometimes. If I get excited or nervous, I’ll talk your ear off. Filters no longer exist and I’ll be sounding like an auctioneer in no time.

To be honest though, that’s an insecurity I’ve been embracing. Yes, at times it can get a bit out of control, but it’s a gift. I have the gift of gab, and I’d rather have to learn to reel it in sometimes, than not have such a gift at all.

All of those things we call insecurities now, will either continue, or be replaced with the next part of us that we choose to negativity focus on. That is, until we decide throw our middle fingers up and say fuck what the world has programmed us to accept about ourselves. All of what we call “shortcomings” are illusions and become accomplishments once we overcome them. It’s all a gift.

There is nothing wrong with me. There is nothing wrong with you. The insecurities we perceive were created by our past because we didn’t know any better at the time, and that’s okay. You’re not alone. Now, we know better. So lets start rewriting our stories.

From Ghosting to Haunting me

32382F31-C93F-407B-BFA1-D143505AA95FYou know what sucks? Sleeping with someone on the first date because you’re hoping the dick will make up for their personality, and then you realize it’s worse. The worst part is when you hug goodbye, and they say “See you later!” Really?? I seriously hope not. I don’t want him to get Coronavirus and die or anything, but please don’t try to talk to me again. Thankfully, that hasn’t happened much, but it’s certainly occurred. However, I will tell you a story even worse than that.

I went on a date, and right off the bat, we were clearly not compatible. It was like a guy from Tiger King trying to hold a conversation with someone who has common sense. He wanted to turn almost everything into a debate, and he was kind of a dick. Turns out, I like dicks though. So, after a few hours and drinks, we go back to his place because he was a douchebag and I have daddy issues.

He invited me to spend the night, and said it was the first time he let a girl sleep over his place. I took it as a compliment, assuming he was a heterosexual male and wasn’t having guys over like a gay Hugh Hefner. The next morning, I hugged him goodbye and said, “See you later!” because the dick was indeed significantly better than his personality. I looked at his face and I was all too familiar with his expression. I knew what he was thinking…. Really?? I don’t want her to get coronavirus and die or anything, but … Needless to say, he pretty much ghosted me, and I was slightly salty about it.

I remember during my stumble of pride home, (I prefer to say that instead of walk of shame.) I thought about how awesome his apartment was. The view was beautiful, perfect location, and great interior. My internal dialogue went something like “Damn, I wish I lived there. Well, who knows, I’m sure there’s a place I can move into when my lease is up that I like just as much, and maybe cheaper.”

When time came for me to move, I posted on a Hanoi housing Facebook group, and instantly was contacted by a woman who I made plans to meet for a showing the following day. She gave me the directions and it seemed almost as familiar as that guys expression after I said “See you later!” I will call that guy Daddy Alex for anonymity which isn’t too far off from what his name is in my WhatsApp contact list.

You know what apartment I just moved into? You guessed it. Not only am I in the same building, but I’m in his old apartment. So, he may have seemed good for nothing, but at least he let me give my apartment a test ride. (PS I got a discounted rate due to the pandemic and the Jew in me is thrilled.)

Here’s the catch. Come to find out, he moved right next door so he could have an apartment with a porch. Daddy Alex went from ghosting me to haunting me. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me that he hasn’t tried to make a move. Especially considering he’s still single and has brought a girl back to his place before. Can’t really complain when I get more ass than him though. I could easily have been in his room tonight. It also bothers me to admit I’d give him a 5 star rating for his cuddling abilities alone. I would never tell him that because his ego seems bigger than the food baby I get after I go to a vegan buffet.

He’s initiated conversations a few times since I moved in a month ago. I dropped some subtle hints that I’m here for a good time, not a long time, but still nothing. I wish there was a way he could know that I’m not looking to go on long walks on the beach, just a night in his sheets… Or two or three.

As much as my ego and other parts of me want that, this very well could be for the best. Although you never know what could happen, I can see that scenario easily not ending well. If I can manifest that apartment for a better deal, I can find me a man that’s a better fit.

 

I’m On The Edge

BE8FEB76-F0F0-42CF-9541-A5147609D8B0My bare toes grip the ledge of a rocky cliff, on the top of a precipice that goes beyond the clouds. I stare before me at what looks like death, but it’s where life really begins. The edge of comfort.
For the record, that’s where it feels like I am. If you thought I was legitimately staring at death and decided to whip out a notepad to write about it, you probably have been in quarantine so long that you’re seeing out of your left ear. The edge I’m on is one of new epiphanies, opportunities, and transformation. The world is my oyster, and while the possibilities are endless and exciting, the uncertainty of it all creates a pressure to overcome.
With everything going on in the world today, I think it’s safe to say we are we all on the edge. The main difference is how we choose to view it. I’m not here preaching as though I’m levitating on the edge like some chosen one who spent years meditating in the Himalayan mountains. I will say though, that I’ve been on the edge of comfort so many times that I’ve noticed the fear decreases more each time. Fear turns to trust, hope, and excitement. You discover ways to think and cope to help you sail through rough waters with more ease. There is the occasional phone call to my dad freaking out about life, but I have to let it out somewhere, right?
The world collectively is going through a challenging shift, but this is an incredible opportunity the embrace the edge you’re on personally, and trust that your life has an inexplicable way of working itself out. Although it’s more difficult for someone who has a mental illness than a trust fund baby who doesn’t have access to the media, these situations give us all a chance to grow in some way. It could be as simple as finding a podcast that inspires and motivates you.
Success does not mean finding a cure for Coronavirus. Success is improvement on the edge, and you get to decide what that looks like for you. How will you embrace the edge?

My Quarantine Fling

97A43137-7FF7-4CD2-9118-1B04ABDC7FC5Desperate times call for desperate measures. I had been so occupied over the last few weeks, that I hadn’t thought to open a dating app. Fast forward two days into quarantine, and it didn’t take long for that to change. I was on the lookout for another decent human being to talk about this crazy thing called life, and possibly talk about it in person when this whole fiasco was over.

I saw Tinders flame icon light up, and I knew a message was waiting for me to heavily judge. “Heyy! What’s up? Xx”

Not very original, but brownie points for initiating and closing with “Xx” (Foreigners love ending messages like that, and I’m not complaining.) It didn’t hurt that he was good looking and likely had a South African accent based off of my superb detective skills. Okay, maybe the fact that he had an emoji of the South African flag in his bio helped. Overall, I gave him an 7.8 out of 10 on first impressions. The fact that he was 6 years younger did not affect the score.

I replied with a cute animal GIF saying hi, followed by “Living that quarantine life. How about yourself?”

I was being a little extra considering it was only day two of quarantine. Little did he know I was lounging on my couch half naked all day, having the time of my life.

“Me too literally” he said.

By literally, he meant literally. The day he had his flight to come back to Vietnam from Thailand, was the day that every single passenger entering the country had to go straight into a quarantine camp for 14 days. He had 5 more days left until he’d be free.

We talked all day, and by night we moved over to WhatsApp. For those who don’t know, once you move a conversation to WhatsApp, it means this will probably lead to getting laid. But how to meet up during a lockdown? Well, if I’m going to risk not social distancing with someone, you best believe it’s with a guy who’s coming directly from a quarantine camp, to my apartment. So after 5 more days of messaging, that’s what happened.

Once we finally met, he gave me a hug, and I tried to pretend I wasn’t only thinking about how I wished he put hand sanitizer on before he touched me. We had a great time that night, and shared a lot of stories and laughs. The only awkward part was when I forgot I had made plans to FaceTime my dad, and the phone started to ring. He hid outside as I hobbled around to find clothes like Gollum from Lord Of The Rings had one too many drinks the night before.

He went back home the following day. The quarantine camp is not far from me, but where he lives is. I wouldn’t blame him or be surprised if this just stayed a quarantine fling. I thoroughly enjoyed our time together, but I’m not driving 45 minutes to see his ass, so why should I expect the same from him? (He did have a cute ass though.)

Overall, I rate the experience higher than a 7.8. I must say that from living in isolation for the past week, I had forgotten how great face to face human interaction would be during a time like this. It was just what the doctor ordered. In actuality, quite the contrary, but that’s what it felt like. Now back to my regular quarantine life of embroidery and half assed workouts.

Is It Bad That I Don’t Feel Bad?

D53AAA57-6B3C-4B89-B3CF-1C6FA799F7A8I don’t experience much drama in my life. I find a lot of joy in taking the high road and avoiding it. Not in the “I’ve done too much spiritual healing to lower my vibration to that level of douchery.” Kind of way. Though that may be true. It’s more like I’m too old for this shit and I really don’t give enough fucks. However, someone gave me one too many lemons recently, and I felt inspired to make some super sour, tasty, lemonade. Is it bad that I don’t feel bad?

Last week, I posted a rather controversial blog post. Basically, I put someone on blast in a rather savage way, and his friends were not pleased to say the least. It had nothing to do with them, but they were personally offended and hurt that I would call him out so publicly. Now, the goal was never to hurt someone, nor do I want to do that. If it does hurt someone, than I sincerely hope they feel better. I still enjoyed my lemonade.

I’m glad he gave me lemons because I learned a lot through the whole experience. I never blamed him for the frustration I felt because it was me who created the feeling. It’s true that if he didn’t exist, I wouldn’t have felt that way, but ultimately my feelings are my own doing. Being triggered by something, whether it’s from being royally fucked over, or a blog post, is a tremendous opportunity to reflect, heal, and find the silver lining.

My blog has always been about finding the silver lining in the bullshit, and being raw while sprinkling in some sass and comedy. To me, there’s no better way to let it all out and move on than that. Look, I never said I handled this situation perfectly. I’m not perfect. This blog’s subtitle is called “The Journey To Become More Zen As Fuck”. Not “I’m Zen As Fuck.”

Again, to anyone who may have been offended by my last blog post or this one, I hope you feel better and genuinely want you to be happy. That said, that is how I made my lemonade, so maybe you should spend your time reading something else. Although, to be fair, unlike my last blog post, most of them aren’t about how annoying I think another human is.

In short, I am unapologetically me. If you try to make me feel bad about making lemonade, I’ll sip it with my pinky up, and offer you a glass to cool down. I care about people, and don’t want to be what caused someone else to feel triggered. However, if me living my life authentically causes someone else to feel that way, I hope they make the best of it and come join me with their lemonade when they’re done. Maybe we can add a shot of vodka in it together.

The Housemate From Hell

73DB491A-A107-4B91-9BC6-08D5FA726539If you are an adult, please learn from my mistake. Never, under any circumstance, should you agree to live with a 20-year-old boy. Although I’m sure in his presence you will feel like a superior human being, it’s a pity to spend your time living with such an uninspiring energy vampire. On the exterior, he is an Asian Australian hipster. The interior is like a blonde bimbo, and that selfish, lazy ass cat, Garfield. Enough about that, let’s get into the story.

I get a message from my landlady the morning rent was due.
“Hi, I want to ask you a bit. Your roommate left before your contract, do you want to stay?” (Direct quote)

Ummm whattt?! Most of his belongings were still in his room, so I messaged him if he was leaving, but I got no response all day.

Later that evening, I hear the door open and his stupid goofy voice shout “HELLO!” As he peaked his head into my room, he giggled nervously like a school boy going through puberty. (But I guess that’s not too far off from where he is to be fair)He rambled about how he’s leaving and after a moment of silence I say “Okay.” I assume he was expecting more of a response because he continued to repeat himself.

I walk over to his room about 10 minutes later to ask if he’s leaving the country, or moving in with his girlfriend. After he told me he’d be staying in Hanoi with his girlfriend, I figured it would be a good time to introduce the huge mother fucking elephant in the room named Don’t Be A Dickhead, Warn Someone You’re Living With That You’re Going To Leave.

I calmly responded “ Oh, cool. So, I hope if you’re ever in this situation again, you tell someone what you’re going to do because it isn’t fun for anybody to hear last minute.”

“Hold on, hold on.” He says as he stares at his phone and mindlessly scrolls through it.

This piece of shit had me standing right infront of him for a solid minute as he scrolls through his newsfeed ignoring my existence. I left in disgust, but assumed that at some point soon, he’d have to address the fact that he totally just ignored me. Not even a second after entering my room, he closed his door and started to play music. Mind you, we’ve never argued before, (I’m not implying that half assed conversation was an argument by any means) and him leaving the apartment before the lease ended was completely unexpected. Now, that was just the beginning of his childish behavior.

While I was out for a drink with a friend, I told him to leave the money that he owes me on the kitchen table because I knew he would be clearing out everything that evening. I get back home and all I see on the table is a leftover 6L jug of his water, that he clearly didn’t want to drag on his motorbike to his new apartment, and a half eaten box of cookies, that taste like cardboard covered in babies diarrhea.

Me “Where’s the money you owe me?”

Him “On the table”

Me “Nope. No money on any table”

After ignoring me, and his girlfriend apologizing on his behalf via Instagram, he proceeded to write me a laundry list of complaints and justifications. He harped about how I was so frugal (facts, he’s not wrong there.) and inconsiderate for not offering to split the cost of the kettle and extra pots and pans he got. ”The water and biscuits is all that I owe you.” Let’s get this straight… Your pots and pans, which I have not once in my life used, is my responsibility to pay for? And were you planning on taking a chainsaw to that kettle so we could share it when you left less than a month after you got it? 

What else was in that list of complaints, was that I would bring guys over. I’m sorry that me getting more ass than you was making you jealous, but you could’ve told me that you didn’t like it. How am I supposed to know if you don’t tell me you stupid bitch? (The satisfaction I just got from calling him that is indescribable)

I do however greatly appreciate his closing. “Sincerely yours, Ben” I literally laughed out loud when I read that. I’m pretty sure my neighbors thought I just saw the dankest meme. He tried to hurt my feelings, and then sound intelligent, but he failed to do either.

Did I mention he lied to the landlady saying he had no money to fly home, guilt tripping her into giving him his half of the down deposit, and making it impossible for me to get mine? Anyways, I don’t want him to get coronavirus and die or anything. I still care, kind of. I hope he gets off the couch and does something with his life. I hope his laziness turns to ambition and drive. I hope his selfishness transforms to kindness and consideration. It’s far-fetched but miracles can happen.

What did I get from all of this besides a satisfying blog post? The ultimate acceleration for growth and change. I’ve learned to let go and find acceptance and gratitude in the chaos. It made me realize how strong I’ve become over the years. I’m so excited to have my own space and love the building I will be moving into. I really think that this is the beginning of one of the best chapters of my life! This coming chapter certainly would not have been as good if he was still around. Even if the process to get to a better life feels shitty, everything always works out for the best!

Heartbroken on Valentine’s Day

A738E547-0B17-4FA0-AA4E-618120D68F01Okay, maybe heartbroken is a little extreme. I certainly wasn’t heartbroken on Valentine’s Day. However, that day my heart did plummet to the bottom of my stomach. So much so that when it dropped, it came with an explosion of suppressed wounds and triggers that I certainly wasn’t expecting. All of that took place the moment I heard the sound of my friend say several words.

I met my friend through a dating app in the summer of 2018. You can probably guess where this is heading…It turned into a beautiful friendship along with one of the most unnecessarily complex “situationships” I’ve been in. When he moved the country, I moved on like Hugh Hefner. Still, we remained good friends and I did not look at him as more than that.

Look, I’d be the first one to admit a committed relationship would never work between us. He was and still is one of my closest friends, but we are polar opposites in every sense of the word. If we starting dating seriously, it would be like Kim Kardashian and that basketball player that lasted a whopping 3 months before they filed for divorce. Not compatible romantically long term. Anyways, you get the point, so let me get back to mine.

The moment I saw his face on my phone however, I thought “Damn, he’s hot.” but snapped out of it to catch up on life. Then, he said what I knew would only be a matter of time before I heard. “I started dating someone.”

I kept a smile on my face while I felt my heart ache. The hardest part was that I never expected I’d feel that way about him anymore. I didn’t think such news from him would eradicate every trace of dopamine in my brain. I thought I had moved on. Maybe I did to a certain extent, but my body mind and soul were sure to let me know I still had old wounds to face and heal.

Everything he said after that just amplified my pain. We got on the topic of sex which was a recipe for disaster. He talked about how he’s having some of the best sex of his life with her because she got him to do what I had been wanting him to do the whole time we were together. So, it seems like he decided to wait until he left to go from Mr. Vanilla to Christian Grey.

I’d like to think the reason after I hung up and felt like absolute shit had a lot to do with having only accumulated five hours of sleep over the last several nights. I want to believe it was PMS or mercury in retrograde or any other excuse in the book. That said, regardless of whether it’s one of those things or not, those feelings were in me. These thoughts and feelings that came up through the experience needed to be addressed in order to move forward and become stronger and more understanding of where I am and what I need.

It all boiled down to the limiting belief that we all have in one aspect of our lives or another. “I’m not good enough.“ It was that underlying unworthiness that came from him never having asked me to be his girlfriend. It was that subconscious doubt I’d never find the one for me. It was a mix of so many things that were just waiting for the right moment to bubble up into my consciousness so I could reflect and hopefully heal some old limiting beliefs. If only there was a way I could have programmed that episode on a day other than Valentine’s Day.

Am I now some love guru that has healed and doesn’t overthink when a guy doesn’t text her back within 24 hours? Absofuckinglutely not. However, although I can’t eloquently articulate why, I do somehow feel better having processed those feelings that came up as a result of talking to him. I’ve come to learn that the situations we initially feel some resentment for, are the ones that deserve our gratitude and attention most.