parting is such sweet sorrow

for all nine of my followers, i'm sorry to inform you that i will no longer be updating my life on blogger.com... yes, sad, i know.

but if you want to continue to follow me and my hilarious, exciting and always unpredictable anecdotes, follow me at

hazelskies.tumblr.com

a quick goodbye...

dear blogspot,

you have been my faithful reporter for almost a year now. i wish what we had could have lasted forever. but technology was too fast for you. you will always be the first one to pop up every time i type the letters "fo" into my search tab... unless i clear my history. thank you for your service.

RIP.

"to be what we are, and to become what we are capable of becoming, is the only end of life."--robert louis stevenson

It's amazing how much feelings can change in only a few short weeks. I guess that's a 22 year old chica for you, though...

Homesickness has at last subsided, and I think that is directly proportionate to my growing friendships and directly inverse to the shrinking feeling of "culture shock"-ness. The first few weeks here were pretty rough, as I mentioned in my previous blog. Even though I'm used to and even sometimes prefer to be alone, being alone in a new country where you don't speak the language is an entirely different story. The main difference is that at home I at least have the choice of easy access via text/phone call of chatting or meeting up with a friend pretty much any time I want. Being alone at home was a conscious choice. Here? Not so much. For the first couple of weeks, I didn't have a cell phone (and whose number would I have even put in it??) or internet so communication to home was an impossibility. And even though I'd made some acquaintances here, I didn't reaaallyyy know anyone, especially not well enough to call up and whine about how I felt. Finally, I reached a breaking point; I think you all know me well enough to know that I can only go without real human interaction for so long. Even though just going straight home after classes and convincing myself that I was still jetlagged and needed to rest was the easy thing to do, it wasn't the healthy thing. After I got internet and a cell phone, I began making plans with people and forcing myself to get out of my little shell, and I haven't regretted a single thing since (well, not anything that I'm going to write in a blog.. haha juuust kidding..)

I'd like to say that my experience here has already changed me so much, but I don't feel like that would be an accurate statement. A better way of expressing it would be to say that Barcelona has helped me realize more of who I already was all along. I believe that at our cores, we already are who we are; I don't think people change. However, I do think that if we choose to let them, our experiences can help us discover more deeply what's within us.

The most challenging and also rewarding (those two are always together! well, Challenging, if you like Rewarding so much, why don't you just marry her?!!) part of this trip has just been letting go of my preconceived notions of what Barcelona should be and accepting and appreciating it for what it is--because there is SO much to appreciate! As an American, I'm ashamed to admit that I have adopted the "Starbucks" attitude. An attitude of customization. I'd like my Barcelona with a better exchange rate, no language barrier, topped with easy access to nature whenever I'm in the mood. Thanks. As much as I told myself not to, I focused on all the things I didn't have. Instead of thinking of all the "Puedo's" ("I can's" for all those who aren't as amazingly fluent as I am in Spanish), all I could think of were the "No Puedo's" ("I can'ts" for all those of you who are just stupid). "I can't speak to anyone." "I can't go trail running." "I can't go ANYWHERE without getting lost!" (Don't get me started on that last one...) But it's all in how you view things. "Change your thinking, change your world."

It's taken me so long to get on the path of figuring out who I am, to stop defining myself by who my parents/friends/boyfriend(s) want me to be--and to actually figure out what is important to ME. I know, I know... It seems so simple. But as I've discovered, some of the simplest things turn out to be the hardest. Anyway, the past couple years has been full of me drawing lines, setting boundaries, learning to say "no" when I want to. All this work in a desperate attempt to figure out the real me--and I feel like I have. Well, I am. I will always be a work-in-process. The hardest thing here for me has been acknowledging that I can simultaneously appreciate something that is different from me without compromising who I am. It's taken me so long to figure out who I am and what I believe, and all of these discoveries are still so new and fragile. I'm afraid I'll lose them if I don't defiantly oppose anything that is different from who I've discovered within myself. I'm working on finding a balance between knowing and being confident in who I am while still experiencing and enjoying life when it's not exactly what I thought it would be. I want to know myself well enough to confidently be open-minded, without the fear of losing myself. I'm on my way there, but it's a difficult journey. Still, it's one that I won't give up.

a rebel without a clue

sorry for the format being sloppy...i copied and pasted this from a couple different places since it's an accumulation of journal entries/emails.. and can't figure out how to fix it. oh well.

It’s been a rough week. Things definitely haven’t gone smoothly. Actually, for a

couple days there, things went a little TOO smoothly, if ya know what I mean. Sorry, kinda gross. But it’s life. Saturday night was fun, but it was the start of a very challenging/lonely few days. Before dinner, I went walking around town with my host family, just wanting to kinda spend time with them and talk (and since they speak NO English, and I hadn’t even had ONE Spanish class yet, talking is not easy). So we walked around town and went to this little outdoor shopping plaza near our apartment. Although it was definitely more of a social gathering for most people my age and the young men were either aggressively poised on the sidelines, waiting to swoop into the first available woman’s space, or lovingly strolling with their significant other (Ah, young love… haha. Not that I would know what that’s like. Apparently, my heart is made of stone.), I was busily flipping through my Spanish-English dictionary. Everything about my appearance screamed American tourist. And did I care? I’m walking around a mall in a hoodie, jeans, hair in a ponytail and no makeup with an old couple on a Saturday night. I think you can figure that out. My new friend Stacy and I had made plans to go out after dinner (btw, dinner here is at 10 pm on average with my family. Crazy, right?), but as I finished eating, I started to get tired. I guess being around the old people for too long was rubbing off on me. Stacy’s response to my lazy plans for Saturday night? No, ma’am. It’s our first weekend in Barcelona. So that was that.

After dinner, Pilar busted out a bottle of some sort of liquor along with a few shot glasses that, upon being filled with a shot, presumed to flash and sparkle multiple colors. Pretty much the gaudiest and most flamboyant thing I had ever seen—so of course I loved it! Delightfully tacky! After taking a shot with my family, I got ready to run and meet up with Stacy at the metro. By this time, it’s like midnight over here—which at home, I’m ready to call at a night by then… but here? People are not even getting started. After being yelled at and semi-chased by this really tall and scary looking homeless man, I finally caught up with Stacy and off to the bars we went. What a night! That’s really all I can say, being that I don’t really remember much of it… Hmm…

Sunday morning. Oh, dear lord. I was supposed to go with my family to their other daughter’s house a couple hours away for lunch… But I woke up, not in my bed but knocking on Death’s door. I’m pretty sure he answered, but I was too hung over to crawl through the threshold. That’s when it started, although I’m still not really sure what started. The sickness. The horrible, never-ending, if-i-could-only-figure-out-how-to-open-this-giant-window-in-my-room-so-i-could-jump-out-of-it sickness. Never have I ever. Everything on my body hurt, and even with 2 pairs of SmartWool socks, long johns under my pjs, a hoodie, and my toboggan on, I was still shaking so hard, the frame of my bed was rocking (and NOT in a good way). Of course, being the prepared person I am, the only medicine I had was some Aleve for cramps. Wonderful. My family, thinking I was just hung over, had left for Miriam’s house all day so I was completely alone in my tiny room a million miles from home. Left to die. In my feverish stupor, I stumbled across the room and managed to take not one, not two, not even three… but four(!!) Aleve tablets, later taking the time to read the instructions that said never to take more than 3 tablets in 24 hours. Meh. Rules were made to be broken. I still don’t know what happened to me; I’m guessing it was like a 48 hour bug or something that was triggered by lack of sleep and overabundance of alcohol (although, I only had three drinks over the course of like 5 hours…. So that just doesn’t make sense).

I can’t remember the last time I was so tired. Every move, even just rolling over in bed, took so much effort. I had the urge to pee for like 20 minutes before I finally convinced myself that even though peeing on myself in bed would bring temporary relief and even a little extra warmth, being wet would only make me colder—that was the winning point of the argument. The smell of anything made my stomach turn. One of the guys I met from the night before texted me, and just seeing his name on my phone reminded me of alcohol, which made me want to throw up everywhere. I didn’t text back. Poor guy. Food? No comment.

And then… almost exactly 48 hours later, I was better, although still a little weak from lack of nutrients. That was Sunday and Monday. On Tuesday, I slept half the day, and then woke up ravenously hungry—and for one thing! GREASE! It’s weird. I never ever crave unhealthy fast food; that is, until I’m either recovering from a sickness or a hangover. Then that’s all I want. Ask me why, and I will tell you I don’t know. The thought of French fries and a Coke drove me out of bed, into the shower and out onto the streets of Barcelona. An appetite, at long last! Me without an appetite is like a day with no sun; it’s just a sad, sad thing. Finally, as the star in the night guided the wise men, I followed the flickering light to the closest Burger King. And oh, it was so wonderful. Worth every last saturated calorie.

Because I had been sick, I missed the first two days of classes, so on Wednesday I had my first Spanish class. Que es? Como significa?? No bueno. I didn’t understand anything. Even though this was beginner’s Spanish, almost everyone in there had had at least a few a years of Spanish. Learning curve? No, no. Learning INCLINE! On top of that, my teacher told us that we would need to be studying about two to three hours outside of our 2 ½ hour class every day in order to really learn. So if the people who already have a foundation in Spanish needed to study that much, where did that leave me?

So yeah… it’s been a discouraging week. Being alone and unable to talk to anyone for like 3 days straight really took its toll on me. Homesickness was almost more nauseating than my actual nausea. I didn’t have the energy to fight off negative thinking and definitely spent quite a few hours wondering if I made the right choice in coming over here. Fortunately, this morning I got to know a few really nice girls from my program, and when I told them how down I was, they offered me some wonderful advice. Stuff you already know, but sometimes just hearing someone else say it makes a difference.

i have a lot of mixed feelings about being here. its something that i needed to do and i'm glad i came here... but i've definitely already learned a lot about myself in only the few days i've been here. for instance, i've always wondered if i would like living in a big city and i've always wanted/needed to do it just to know--cuz i'm like that. i seem to only learn by experience. and i've definitely discovered that i'm not a big city girl. but i needed to do this or else i would have always wondered and had regrets. don't get me wrong; barcelona is a beautiful and extremely clean city. and as far as big cities go, i think it's amazing.. but i really miss the mountains/nature. that's always been my release, and it feels like i dont have that right now. no matter what's going on in my life, at home i could always just go be outside and it gave me such peace.. and right now, since i dont know the area very well, i dont have access to much/any of that...

also the people and their values seem to be pretty different here (but in barcelona's defense, i think that's just a metropolitan city tendency; i don't think this holds true only here). appearance is SO important.. and sure i like to look nice, but to be honest, i really dont care how stylish i am. i hate shopping bc it feels like a waste of time and money; plus shopping seems to just create the desire for more more more..

also, back to the outdoorsy thing... there seems to be NOBODY into anything outdoorsy. i mean, there are tons of runners here as far as like

on the sidewalks and stuff... but i havent come across anyone who would rather

spend the day hiking than the night clubbing/drinking... and sure every once in awhile i like to go out... but i would much rather go to bed early and wake up ready to spend the day outside than partying the night away. i'm sure there are people like me out here; i just haven't met them yet... and since i've never had a problem meeting people at home since i actually speak the same language as people, i didn't take into account that it might actually be kind of difficult over here.

granted, i've only been here a week--and the past 3 days i didn't leave my bed... so i've had way too much time to think and get a little homesick and not enough time to do things...

i guess i've always known these things about myself--but i just needed to make sure. and i'll definitely appreciate and enjoy my time here

(i've already learned SO much spanish), but i'm not going to compromise my values/who i am to try and fit in.

This experience is new and scary in a way I didn’t foresee. The language barrier is real. The lifestyle is very different. Values, appearance, activities—all unlike what I’m used to. And it’s hard. Even though a million people told me it would be, I didn’t listen... because if they had said it was easy, i wouldn't have wanted to do it anyway. And even though right now I’m struggling, I don’t think I will regret my decision to come over here. In just a week, I’ve already learned so much about myself. With each new experience, I learn more about myself and become more confident in who I am. What a cliché. But clichés are clichés for a reason.

i am not the same having seen the moon shine on the other side of the world.--maryanne radmacher

Wow. That’s all I can say. Life is so different, yet still the same. Everything has changed in one week, yet I’m still me. Weird. Anyway… so today’s the first day that I’ve really actually had internet. Long story short: NEVER assume anything is easy to find in another country. Especially a country in which you don’t know the language. Definitely should have gotten an AC adapter back in the states… but I’ll get into that later. Okay so basically I’m just going to summarize a few of my journal entries from the past week. Every time I’ve traveled (except for my roadtrip this summer), I always get lazy and don’t write anything down… and then I forget what happened… and then I am sad… so even though I usually don’t write down a play-by-play of my days, since I’m traveling and want to actually REMEMBER things, I did (and I looove my journal, turtle! Already like twenty pages in!)

Saturday, January 2^nd, 2010 @ 10:53 am

So I almost had a heart attack this morning. Everything was going so smoothly with debarking from the ship etc (btw, eating 6 prunes and then getting on a 30 minute bus ride is a horrible idea!). Then I go to check in at air tran (in Ft. Lauderdale headed to Atlanta to pick up luggage that I stored in a locker in the airport then catching my flight to dallas that connects to my flight to Madrid---so this is obviously an important flight. Oh and I only have a two hour break between when my flight from ft. laud lands in atl and when my flight from atl to dallas takes off. Confusing enough?) and the first thing I’m told is that my flight to Atlanta has been cancelled due to mechanical errors with the plane and they would get me on a flight tomorrow. Eff me sideways. WHAT?!?! That’s when I really wished I’d worn more makeup and less bra. And the way he told me was so nonchalant, too. Um, excuse me. No. You don’t understand. I HAVE to get to Atlanta. So I proceed to explain my situation to the controller of my fate (I’m a broke college kid with no money to buy another ticket to Spain) and said I’d sit on the wing of the plane if I had to—anything to get me to Atlanta on time—although I’m really, really glad it didn’t work out that way. Would have made for an uncomfortable flight. Maybe he had pity on me or maybe it was the ass-pants (yes. Ass pants. Tight black spandex work out pants that make my ass go BAM!) or maybe a little of both, but he ended up majorly overbooking another flight and giving me a seat. I could have kissed him!... but since he was old and kind of strange looking, I just smiled and gave him a tip. Probably tipped more than I should have but whatev. I was so nervous/relieved/excited, I’m just glad I didn’t rip off all my clothes and go running around the airport. It’s been known to happen. Maybe not at an airport (yet) but still.

Monday, January 4^th, 2010 @ 21:43 (gotta do military time since that’s how it is over here!)

Alright so I made it. I’m here in Madrid, Spain, sitting in my hotel room right now after a full day of exploring the city. Saturday was a full day of flights. Nothing fancy. Most of the flight was through the night and apparently (according to a girl in my program who I coincidentally sat near), I kept falling asleep on this Spanish woman next to me, and the Spanish woman and her friend were making fun of me. I was wondering what they were laughing about! I’ve been so jet lagged that I’ve basically just slept through everything that has happened the past couple of days, and it’s been really icky/rainy… Today was the first day I really remember. My hotel roommate Lauren and I basically just explored the city together today, and it’s gorgeous! She knows a lot of Spanish, so I’ve learned a lot already. Missing my rotten boy…

Wednesday, January 6^th, 2010 @ 11:21 am

Yesterday morning we took the bus ride to Toledo. I don’t even remember the bus ride, to be honest. So out of it. Toledo’s a really cool city. Very old. All walled in. Cobblestone streets. Surrounded by a river. I couldn’t really understand much of what the guide was saying. I can pick out words and phrases but am definitely not able to put together concepts yet. I’ve learned a lot, though! My favorite thing so far has just been to fall a little behind the group and take pictures. I really wish I had a nicer camera, but not enough to actually spend money on one. Esta bien J

We’re on the nine hour bus ride to Barcelona right now. I’m a little nervous about meeting my host family because that’s always a little awkward, but I’m sure it’ll be fine. Part of me misses home, but I think it’s more of the comfort of familiarity I miss. I just have to force myself to get a new frame of mind because if I just compare everything to home then of course I’ll miss it. It’s almost like I’ve put thoughts of home in a little box inside of me that I won’t open until the end of April. Let go of my comfortables and move into the unknown. The one thing I miss more than anything is my rotten boy. I miss him terribly.

Thursday, January 7^th, 2010 @ 20:25

Today was a big, scary, overwhelming day, and I’m exhausted. I met my host family last night and I LOVE them. When I walked off the bus, the first thing I saw was this little peppery, firecracker of a woman holding a sign with my name. She grabbed me into a hug and kissed both of my cheeks and then we scampered off towards the car. Oh and by the way, no one in the family speaks a lick of English. So it’s been interesting, but this is exactly what i wanted. i'll learn SO much faster this way! They (she, her daughter whose name I still don’t know how to say, and her ex husband) zipped me around town in the car, stopping at Sagrada Familia. Oh. My. God. I guess that’s pretty sacrilegious to say about a church… or maybe it’s just the right thing. It’s amazing. Definitely going back to visit and take pictures. Still not used to the whole late night dinner thing because we got back to the apartment around 19:30 , and I was starving but it still wasn’t even close to dinner so Pilar (my host mommy) took me around the circle that surrounds their apt and pointed out things to me in Spanish to help me learn.

I slept really well but still jetlagged so it was hard to wake up in the morning. I was kind of nervous about the whole shower thing because everyone has repeatedly emphasized taking short showers since water/electricity is so expensive here. I literally had my stopwatch set for exactly five minutes but for the first two, the water wouldn’t warm up. Not just warm up… but it was absolutely freezing. And I was already cold. No effing way I was getting in that thing. Finally, Pilar knocked on the door and showed me this switch I have to hit to heat the water up. Ooops….

I was pretty nervous about finding the school from the metro near my house, but it was actually relatively easy. We took the Spanish placement exam this morning---and when I say “we,” I mean everyone but me. I took one look at the test, had no idea what to say/put down, told the instructor, and she let me leave. Obviously, I’ll probably be teaching a few advanced Spanish classes.

Friday, January 8^th, 2010 at 23:55

How does this always happen to me?!??! I guess it’s because I refuse to use maps. They just confuse me. So here’s what happened: I had my first class today and there were definitely some hot guys in there… Well, me being me, I had to make sure I was noticed. So after class, I walked up to the group of them and asked in Spanish where the closest metro was. Anyway, long story short, I got on the wrong metro. Actually, I didn’t even get on the metro!! I got on this weird train thing that’s not really a train… and rode for an hour before I realized “oh hey… i only live like 20 minutes away from school.. this isn’t right.” Getting off the train thing, I found myself in the total ghetto—but I was more pissed than scared cuz I knew I’d get home eventually (well, assuming I didn’t get kidnapped or killed)… Just didn’t know how long it’d take. Anyway, that was definitely WAY more of a test of my Spanish skills than that placement test was. But I found my way home eventually. Serves me right for being vain.

Saturday, January 9^th, 2010 17:41

Went on my first run this morning since I’ve been in Spain. It was the perfect morning. I ended up running for about an hour, and it felt so good. My poor little legs have been dying to go free. I actually DIDN’T get lost for the first time in 3 days! Progress! Anyway, I’ve been searching for an AC adapter for almost a week now, and they’re nearly impossible to find! But I was wandering around this morning and meandered into this little hardware store/hole-in-the-wall place and actually found one! So yay! Internet! As silly as it sounds, I’m so proud of that little ac adapter! It represents so much! My ability to navigate in a foreign country and speak another language…

Okay, so that’s a summary of my past week for all of you who wanted to know how it’s going! I didn’t want to write the same thing in a billion emails… I still have a lot more to say as far as my actual thoughts on the city/people etc go… and my next blogs will probably be more about that and less about what is actually happening because soon I’ll have a routine. Anyway, enough for now!

the other side of every fear is freedom--merilyn ferguson

It is three in the morning. I am awake. Again. This is the story of my life. Why can’t I sleep? I hate not being able to sleep. A perfectly good night. Wasted. I’m stressed about spain. I’m done with finals so I should be able to relax… yet…. it’s like all I can think of are the things I haven’t done. And the most frustrating part is most of the things I’m stressing over, I can’t even do anything about. Which is probably why I’m stressed about them. It’s just stupid shit that is out of my control. Stupid stuff like how am I going to charge my ipod over there? What if I need more socks? Will I buy or rent a bike to get to school? Will I just walk instead? Will I have enough money? Stupid money. Stupid, stupid, stupid money. I hate you. You make my shoulders tense up. You make my stomach hurt.

I’m trying everything I know. Deep breathing. Visualization. It’s not helping. Why does everything always seem a million times worse in the middle of the night? As spain gets closer and closer, I get more and more nervous. I’m not so sure I know exactly what I’ve gotten myself into. Four months is a long time. This isn’t like my roadtrip where I can come home whenever I want. Well, I guess I can still come home if I really want to… but I’d be really disappointed in myself. I guess I’m just really afraid of being lonely. Four months is definitely enough time to get over the excitement of living in a new country. Four months is enough time to get really really homesick-- really, really lonely. But this is good for me. I need this. I will grow so much. It won’t be easy being away from everything I know and love for so long… but it will be good for me.

I don’t want to be rushed and constantly be on the run. What I learned from my roadtrip (and what I wish I had done more of) is to take time to just be. Be still. Experience the moment. Appreciate and live in that moment of time. Don’t run from place to place just to say you’ve been there. Or even worse, to get away from something. Go TO somewhere; not AWAY from something. I think these next four months will be very key in helping me learn. Grow into the person I want to be. When I first signed up to go to spain, I was running. I didn’t want to slow down. I didn’t want to get trapped. By school. By a job. By another fucking relationship. That was my greatest fear. I chose to go to spain because I was terrified if I didn’t do it, I’d just stay stuck. It was a decision based on fear.

With that said, I’m going to turn this into an experience that will change me positively forever. I won’t let myself fall into my old patterns, and it will be easier because I don’t have a choice. It’ll be easier not to fall into those old patterns, but it won’t be easy. I will have to be strong. This is the reason I hate having plans. This feeling right here. It gives you too much time to think. To worry. My stomach is churning. My shoulders are tense. I feel sick. This fear, this dread, of the unknown. It’s only fear… but it’s still strong. Right now, it’s a little overwhelming. No more crutches. It’s okay to want people, but I don’t want to need anybody. And there’s such a difference. The difference is huge. Life-altering. And my life has been altered. I’m self-sufficient and capable and strong.  Now. I wasn’t before. Well, I hadn’t discovered it, nourished it before. It was there, just hidden. Experiences like these, like Spain, where I have to delve deeply within myself and find strength to toughen up and rely on myself mentally and emotionally, will help me. Life is about discovering what you’re afraid of and facing it head on. It’s only fear. It’s only fear. And you are stronger than your fear. My life will not be controlled by it. I will not live my life wrapped up in and hidden away by my security blanket of fears; I want to feel the heat of the sun, the harsh bite of icy wind, the shocking wet of rain on my bare skin. I don’t want to be comfortable, numb to the changing beauty of the world around me. I want to feel it, feel all of it. The scary. The exhilarating. The tragic. And the infinite pleasure of just being alive. 

But I’m definitely feeling the scary right now… and in a few hours, I’ll definitely be feeling the tired. Sleep, why must you elude me?

They say times changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself.--andy warhol

So i like to look back over my journal entries and read what i've written... and i stumbled across a couple from awhile back that i liked and thought i'd share. i just kinda smushed em together... maybe they'll make sense to you. maybe not. 

"I feel so weird. Sad…. But not. Because I know it will go away. Sad… but not. Because I’m happy that I can feel. Sad… but not. Because I know that for the first time in my life, I’m being true to myself. I’m terrified of this freedom. Terrified that I’m making all the wrong choices. But at the same time, I know that for the first time in my life, I’m making all the right choices. Because right doesn’t mean the choice that necessarily makes sense to the rest of the world. Right means making the decision that brings you peace. Even if it makes absolutely no sense to anyone else. I would much rather have my freedom of thought and opinion and living than your approval. With you, there is no freedom. My spirit needs room to decide what’s right and wrong for me.

I’m so torn right now. My loneliness is new and sad but at the same time, I’m so reassured by it. I’m so relieved to know that even though I get sad and lonely, I’m not distracting myself with another meaningless relationship. The torn open places in my heart are slowly healing. It’s almost like I physically feel stronger. Maybe that’s the difference with this sadness. Yes, it’s the same lonely sadness it used to be, but it’s inside a stronger person. A more fulfilled person. A person who knows that true happiness and contentment can only come from within. Now I understand that the only way to deal with this sadness is to become stronger. Maybe the sadness and loneliness will always be there. Maybe they don’t change shape or size. But I can. I can became larger and stronger than my sadness. My fear of being alone will become lost in my belief that being alone and fulfilled is better than being in a shallow, meaningless and distracting relationship. Distractions can only distract for so long before you become used to them and need to find something else to keep your mind from turning to those things you’re trying to so hard to avoid. So just face it now. It’s either that or spend a lifetime running from one distraction to the next. And I’m tired.

It’s okay to hurt. It’s okay to have uncertainties. Hurt and sadness will pass. And the future will happen. What’s meant to be will happen. And I will be okay. It will all be okay in the end.

People are draining. Well, I guess I should say people that don’t get me are draining, and it seems like as I figure out more and more who I am, there are fewer and fewer people who I feel like I connect with. There are just some things you can’t explain to people. They either get it—or they don’t. not to say one way is right or better than another. It’s just different.

My values and priorities have changed so much in the past year. Or maybe I’m just discovering what they truly are. The things I used to care and worry so much about just don’t matter to me anymore. Or matter less. And other things matter so much more. The things that I strived so hard to gain or achieve that people promised would bring me happiness never did. Instead I was always left with a longing for more. Yet I would continue to pursue the same goals because people who were “older and wiser” than me said that’s what I should want. That’s what would fulfill me. That’s what would bring me happiness. And I believed them. Why wouldn’t i? I mean, what did I know? I was just young and stupid and inexperienced. Right? No. So, so, so no.

Happiness and contentment can come from anywhere as long as you’re real with yourself. Honest with yourself. True to yourself. I was living my life for so many people… Yet, out of all those people, not one of them was me. I had so much anxiety all the time because I was ignoring what I felt was right and trying to please the masses. It’s amazing how much of my anxiety has gone away just from learning to listen to and follow my own intuition. Living for others, I was in a constant battle with myself, and I was always the one losing.

I’m so tired of close-minded people. Respect. Let me live my life like I let you live yours. It’s okay to think differently. Stop telling me I’m wrong or will fail simply because my ideas of success aren’t the same as yours. Stop looking down on me because I don’t value the same things you do. Stop judging me for doing things my way and not yours. 

But it’s okay if you don’t. It’s okay because I don’t need your nod of approval, your seal of satisfaction. Not anymore. Because I finally understand that while having your support is nice, it’s definitely not necessary. The only approval I need is that which I find within my heart.

People spend so much time and money and energy and emotion and effort searching, searching, searching… for peace. For contentment. For love. For meaning. And all of those things are found in the same place. Peace, contentment, love, meaning… they’re all within you. They are the essence of you. Your soul. Your spirit. Your heart. Your mind. Such a simple concept that is so hard to understand. It’s all right there, waiting for you. You just have to want to find it."

we're moving forward but holding ourselves back and we're waiting on something that will never come

I was sitting in the bath tonight about to crack open my marketing book and start studying when I began reminiscing instead. I am five years old, surrounded by every small, plastic figurine imaginable (my favorite is Ernie from sesame street, riding proudly in his speed boat) and up to my neck in bubbles. I always sing, but it is never songs that I have heard anywhere else. The best songs are always the ones I make up as I go along. There is no repeat chorus because every line is different. Hours could be and are easily lost in this world I create full of action and adventure, love and romance, secrecy and betrayal. Though it is only a 2 by 5 foot tub, it is filled with infinite possibilities. Holding my breath and sliding under the water, I am no longer in my bathroom at home but rather discovering a 100-year-old shipwreck while wily outsmarting the ravenous, swarming sharks. Pouring the My Little Pony bottle of bubbles under the running water transforms me into a mad scientist creating a potion that, with only one small drop, could make any and all broccoli and lima beans instantly taste like mint chocolate chip ice cream from Baskin Robbins. Just within reach is not a toilet but a swirling vortex of blackness where only the most criminal “bad guys” are sent to face the ultimate doom. Confined to this tiny room, I so easily found contentment and the freedom to create a world with untold possibilities.

 

When did this change? When did I grow from the girl who studies the enemy’s every move to the woman who studies marketing in the bathtub? When did life become so full of responsibility that a time once so cherished and filled with freedom of thought and imagination has become just another chore? But most importantly, how can I change it back?

 

Bills. Grades. Work. Then, if I have time, fun. Life is too short. I’m tired of being responsible. I’m tired of doing the “right thing.” I just want to do what I want to do. I want to find happiness where I find it, not where people tell me I’ll find it. I want to make mistakes and learn from them. I want to understand life and people. I want to find and develop my passions. I want to love myself for who I am and not who I wish I was. I want to break away from this path that’s so worn in front of me and get lost in the woods. Sure, I’ll get stuck by some briars along the way; hell, I might even get poison ivy (and that shit sucks)! But at the end of the day, I’ll get a view like no one has ever seen. Maybe I won’t take the conventional way. And maybe it will be wrong. But what is wrong really? I truly believe that something can be learned from every experience we create, and learning will only help me discover more deeply who I am and what I’m made of.

 

I believe that so many choices are made out of fear: we choose careers that we hate because we’re afraid of not having money; we stay in relationships that stunt us because we’re afraid of being alone; we worship gods that dictate our lives because we’re afraid of trusting ourselves. What people don’t realize is that the scariest thing about fear is fear itself. If you can get past the initial intense uncertainty of fear, you’ll realize that’s all it is: uncertainty. And life is uncertain. There are no guarantees. Even if you do all the “right things,” the shit can still so easily hit the fan. So how about instead of obeying what everyone else thinks is right for my life, I listen to and trust myself? Interesting concept.

 

The hot water envelops my body and soothes and restores my sore muscles. Closing my tired eyes, I inhale deeply, filling my senses with pomegranate-scented bath oil. Hesitant at first, I close my marketing book and place it on the ground outside the tub and outside of this moment. Then, with another deep breath, I slide under the warm bath water and into the salty waters of the Caribbean and back into the world of infinite possibilities.