Here I Stand (but also kneel and sometimes sit) – 3 Years Later

I fell off the blog train when I was all out of misery to whine about. Almost everything I wrote here was about my first real, horrible heartbreak and as much as I hate the say it – fast-forward 5 years from the beginning of us and a lot of thing still revolve around him. There were ups & downs with him even after the cataloged shit show, that’s for sure.

After I stopped venting through this blog, we ended up getting back together and officially gave it a go – the real college try. It lasted a few great years and well.. here I am.. so you guessed it.

Instead of devoting my brainpower and use of words to my woes, I am going to focus my energy in other ways, on other things. I feel the progress I have made in these last few months on my own and I am proud of where I am. I started playing rugby (which I LOVE) & working out again, and I will be moving into *my very own* apartment for the first time ever (first time without a roommate &/or boyfriend) – just my cat, Obi & I. For the first time in a long time, I not only feel ready for my next move(s,) but I am eagerly awaiting for time to hurry up, just to here in the near future, for these big things I’ve been planning.

There’s a few new quirks and wrenches in the mix that weren’t present 3 years ago but.. such is life. I just never thought I would have some of the issues I do currently. I always thought I was the type of person, that I would remain the type of person, who would never get involved with stuff like this.

If I’ve learned one thing in my puny amount of life experience (almost a quarter of a century) – you can never say never.

And at this point in time, just like I have since admitting to myself the problem and the subsequent struggle with this addiction, I find myself starting strong with great intentions – remembering how stressful it is to be broke – letting my goals and drive push me. But just as quickly, I find myself buckling and giving in – heading to the ATM after doing math with the money I have, trying to account for gas until payday; then withdrawing the last of my dollars that should have been saved or used to dwindle down my debt. I enjoy (too much) indulging in a long night of feel goods, pulling an all-nighter and beginning this new day as a continuance of the last. I do this now maybe once a week – and hating myself for it the whole time, knowing how I’m going to feel. I am at the tail end of this mistake as I type these words but how do I feel right now? As my whole body has a subtle but electrifying tingle, as the drip lines my throat with a beautiful numb, and my brain so awake and alert that I feel as though I can conquer this day and then some? I feel great right now.

But this is short-lived and I know it. Hours from now I will be craving more – ready to go one of a few friends who will loan some to me as I am waiting for the next payday. I hate the feeling and how it makes me look but in the moment of craving, I just don’t care. I will be exhausted, coming down from my throne with an allergy season-like runny but also terribly stuffy and inflamed nose. Good thing about the downhill tumble is that I’m used to it now afters years of use, I have mastered it at this point from experience. I am constantly justifying it, not beating myself up about it, because I did something good or worked really hard that day and deserve to feel great, escape, come home, and be productive with laundry and/or organizing something. There have been paychecks where I have blown around $200 (sometimes more, sometimes less) in a night or two – that being an average – sometimes even more if I was particularly irresponsible.

I am constantly acknowledging this issue to myself – very aware I have a problem – but find myself breaking anyway. Through putting thought to keyboard, I am hoping to get whatever I need to out, maybe whatever is helping to keep me weak to this addiction.

I know it is counterproductive to my goals and what I am trying to accomplish & most importantly, I know that I am solely responsible for myself and my actions – and my dreams and goals.

To think how much cash I would have if every time I have used over these past few years, I put that money in savings instead. It actually almost makes nauseous to focus on. I’m hoping to get to the point where I can channel my addictive personality into healthier, more productive, uses of my time. I have always been aware of this part of who I am – with anything and everything – which is partly why I always said I wouldn’t do drugs. Now I understand more than ever when people say addiction is a disease. It was and is a choice I make – I did this and continue to do this to myself – but pulling yourself out is a fight I could never imagine.




I can’t do this again

I meant it when I said I was moving on, I think that’s why it still hurts so much. It hurts because I feel myself letting go of everything I’ve ever wanted.

It’s getting easier but what I can’t let go of is knowing that it’s right; that we’re right. That we fit & that it just comes easy for us.

It wouldn’t be so hard if I didn’t think that you saw it too, that you just fight it. I feel like I can see it on your face and feel it when you’re around me. I see it every time someone else tells me how amazing or funny I am or asks why I’m still single in front of you. It kills me because all I want to say is “I’m not quite sure. Ask him.”

I’m fine until someone brings you up. I’m happy until someone forces that beautiful and brief piece of history into my mind. The minute someone in our lives reminds me how “perfect” they think we’d be, it all comes back. I know that they have said these things to you many times, too so I’ve asked them all to stop. As much as I know that I hate hearing it, I can imagine you do too. I hate it when people tell me that I’m “one of a kind” or that “they don’t make women like me anymore” because while their opinions are sweet and flatter me, they aren’t the opinions of the one person I wish they came from. All I can think of is how I wish it were you.

If I thought that being around you only brought me pain, I would avoid you but I love having you in my life too much to back out completely. I asked for this by putting myself out there and making myself vulnerable, now I am dealing with the consequences. I know I’m strong enough to handle this, so why do I still get so weak?

Getting over someone isn’t the hard part, I’ve accomplished this in the past, no matter how hard it was at the time. I will never say that I need someone to survive. It’s getting over everything you know that they would bring to your life and what you could bring to theirs, everything you dreamed of, everything you saw in the future. You showed me things that I didn’t even know I was missing in my life. A passion, a craving, a feeling I’ve never experienced before. You’re just different. Everything about you is different and I can’t shake you. I still can’t shake you all the while knowing that I don’t mean the same.

A year ago, I didn’t even know who you were. I want to say that I miss that feeling. It’s coming up on the day when I walked in and saw you for the first time. Little did I know that it was all over from there. It’s sad that I still remember this day to the exact date.

I know I could say this all to your face if I wanted to. I had the opportunity when you told me you wanted to talk about it. But I’m the one who told you no. I had given you so many chances in the past, more than you deserved. You left me hanging for so long without a word – waited so long to want to talk about it, I couldn’t give up the progress I had made to let you in once again. Knowing that nothing I said could change you or the way you felt, knowing that you had so many things to get off your chest and knowing that as much as I wanted to know what they were, I couldn’t let myself do it again. I know that none of it is what I want to hear and maybe that makes me willfully ignorant but I’ve had to build my defense mechanism. If it were there for you, you wouldn’t be able to brush it off. It wouldn’t be so easy for you. So I choose to vent via a way that I am sure you will never see. I feel like I can be honest without the fear of being crushed again.

How could you possibly feel the way I hope you feel when you watch other people show interest in me and express it right in front of your face and you do nothing about it – show nothing – not even a flicker on your face. If you cared as much as I did, if you had this same fire inside of you, you wouldn’t be able to stand it. You would be exploding, just as I am, just as I still do. I know that now. The worst part of this is knowing that I have to contain it and tuck it away to a deep, dark place.

That’s why I’m letting go.

Time to make myself happy.

My mantra has always been that if you’re unhappy, you are the one responsible for changing it. You can’t rely on others for happiness.

But I’ve recently realized that I’ve lost the willpower to do this for myself. Even the littlest things like putting away my laundry or taking a walk, two things that I know have always made me feel fantastic, I end up putting off. I usually end up on the couch after work, asleep before I even really start watching whatever show/movie I’ve started.

That’s the fairly large kicker here; I am always tired with little to no motivation. I need to start taking steps to boost my energy levels, physically & mentally. I know I am capable because I’ve set my mind to something before – a slightly different goal. At 20 years old, I wanted to lose weight & ended up shedding +80 lbs. This not only did wonders for my self-esteem but it also made me realize that if I truly wanted something bad enough, I was capable of putting in the hard work to achieve it.

The only one standing in my way was me. 

In the sake of all honesty, my weight loss brought me to a place where I was proud of what I had accomplished, but I also knew that I hadn’t exactly achieved my body in the healthiest of ways. In the height of my gym days, I was there twice a day – morning and night (with a 12-14 waitressing shift in-between, 6 days a week.) More self-conscious than ever, I was rarely eating anything; so of course the pounds melted off when I was burning 4x the calories I was taking in everyday. I dwindled down to a weak & bony figure – looking very sickly. Even though my family and close friends started to express their concerns, I only saw problem areas that could use improvement.

It took a while to get off this train but I stopped obsessing at the gym, put 10-15 lbs. back on, and started eating healthy. Every time I look in the mirror now, I wink at myself – I know I am beautiful. Maybe I didn’t need to lose a bunch of weight to ever feel that way about myself but my journey makes me appreciate myself that much more.


It’s about damn time.

Today, I feel great. I finally can not only see the light at the end of this tunnel, but I can feel it too.

Maybe it’s the way you look at her or the way you could care less about anything or anyone else around you. Or maybe it’s just because I haven’t seen you in a few days. Regardless, I finally feel like I’m letting go. I can think of you without losing my breath.

I’ve chosen to be alone through this because I’m the only person I want to be around. I’m the only person who really knows me & as bad as you have made me feel about myself in the past, I can finally stop using that to measure my own worth.

Just because you used & abused my affection for you just to toss me away like trash doesn’t mean another person will. I now know who I am, what I will & will not stand for, & why I’m important.

I love myself regardless of the fact that you didn’t.

21 Women On “What I Was Doing When I Was Called A Slut”

Wow.. What an exceptional post. Just like many other insults, a lot of people could care less what the meaning actually entails.

Thought Catalog

In my experience, the people who call people sluts in an attempt to insult them aren’t even aware of the actual “truth” in their insult. They’re just saying a woman could, possibly have slept around. And that’s bad. I wanted to know what elicited this kind of insult from people so I asked Thought Catalog readers to tell me what they were doing when they were called a slut. Here are the (heartbreaking) responses.

Stephanie, 25

In the 8th grade, a girl called me a slut because she said I stuck out my boobs all the time in class and made flat-chested girls like her feel insecure. In reality, I was just trying to have better posture/sit up straighter to look skinnier because I was insecure around thin girls like her. COOL.

Sarah, 28

I walked down the street in a hot pink turtleneck dress. I was also simultaneously called…

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Why it’s okay to be selfish.

I will be 22 in 2 days shy of a months time and I already feel like I’m 40 years old, minus a family and the white picket fence that is all supposed to come with the “American Dream.”

I am finishing up my BA and my graduation date is visible but not quite within my grasp. I have served at bars and restaurants through my first 3 years of college while still living at home and I dreamed of nothing but the independence of living out on my own. I even ended my long-term relationship because I wanted to be free.

Free to live. Free to fail and make mistakes. Freedom is what I craved in all aspects of the word.

Freedom is what I got.

Not even the smallest part of me regrets any of these decisions. I have a beautiful home with a great friend, the greatest friend I’ve ever known. I work one full-time job and two-part time jobs; all while attending college online full-time. I’m used to people looking at me like I’m insane when they ask me what I do for a living but the truth is, I love it. I love being so busy that I barely have time for anything or anyone, for that matter.

I love being able to be selfish.

That may sound awful, but I have spent the majority of my life looking out for everyone else first; helping everyone else first, even at the expense of my own wants/needs. I’ve wasted time in relationships/friendships that were either toxic or that I just grew out of. I kept them around for the security and out of fear of the unknown. But now that I am experiencing life as a free, single woman and I don’t even want to entertain the idea of a relationship. For the sake of complete honesty, this is partly because of this & partly because of an unexpected whirlwind that swept me up & threw me down.. Hard. (You had me at hello.As someone who has spent the better part of her adolescent in a few long-term relationships (some a bit more mature than others,) I had never really entertained the idea of purposely staying single until I realized the numerous possibilities of being a single woman; living and providing for herself – answering to no one else – striving every day for personal happiness and the feeling satisfaction in setting and accomplishing her own goals. The idea of moving out on my own for the very first time with my last serious partner, eventually getting married and settling down without getting the chance to actually live absolutely terrified me.

I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I would regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t listen to my head and my gut.

My point is that there is nothing wrong with thinking of yourself. Everyone should have the beautiful experience of crossing a threshold in their lives where they figure themselves out (multiple times!!) and learn who they really are – then keep learning as you grow and change. This requires alone time. A lesson I am still learning. I see myself as a mother one day, calming down my fast-paced “day-to-day” and focusing my energy on the dreams of my children. My hopes & dreams will be centered around watching them achieve their hopes & dreams but right now, I want to focus on my own goals, my own dreams, even if I haven’t completely discovered them yet. I can’t help guide or lead anyone if I haven’t taken the opportunity to explore, grow, and make my own mistakes.

I don’t want to wake up one day wishing that I lived my life.

I’m good without God.

I have been pessimistic towards a relationship with God for as long as I can remember. I remember not wanting to say The Pledge of Allegiance in 5th grade because it felt like a prayer. I have memories of praying at dinner as a child with my grandparents & feeling uncomfortable from how forced into it I felt simply by being there. Christianity is a large part of my family and their lives, both sides, but I felt like no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t force myself to believe. My parents always raised my younger sister and I to be critical thinkers, to challenge what we are told and to observe the world and question what is around us. I knew very young when I looked up at the large portrait of Jesus hanging in my room that I didn’t believe that any of this was possible, realistically. I will never forget the feeling of sitting in my room, staring up at this painting, feeling guilty about wanting to take it down because my maternal grandmother painted it and passed away right before I was born.

The day that I asked my mom if I could take it down, I saw it click with her what was happening. But she never tried to change me. She continually encouraged me to keep my eyes open, even if my view was different from hers. My dad has not practiced since he lived at home, hasn’t stepped foot into a church besides the occasional wedding or funeral since before he joined the Navy at 17. Since I am older and now more open with my views, we have had multiple discussions on the topic of religion. His take is, in a nutshell – “Whatever makes you a good person. Whatever gives you a moral compass and guides you through life doing right by yourself and others; let it guide you.” My mom is a bit more sensitive, we know how we feel but we don’t discuss it too often. We’ll joke around every now and then, being an extremely open and radically inappropriate family, but it gives her comfort to know that she will see her mom and family again one day so I don’t see a reason to make a constant attempt to deflate her hope.

I don’t look to a man in the sky for direction or let him limit me & what I am seeking. If I don’t accomplish a goal, I don’t say “Must not be what God wanted for me!” I evaluate what I could have done differently & learn from it. We are who we are by the choices we make, just as we are here today because of the choices made by others who came before us.

I don’t think that we go anywhere when we die. No pearly gates, no reunions with loved ones, no eternal bliss or youth, and no fiery hell as punishment for your behavior in this life. I believe in science and in the wonder that is the human body and all that surrounds us. Death is a part of the cycle of life, but when we do leave our physical bodies, we become apart of the Earth more permanently that any mark we could hope to make in our everyday lives. We become part of Earth’s body, it’s make-up, what lives in it, and what it produces.

The pessimist in me sees religion as a divider among the human race. But I know that it comes from the inability to differentiate in some individuals that religion is a personal way to walk through life. There are so many beliefs, cultures, and ways of living that thinking that your hypothesis is right simply because it’s yours and you believe it with all your heart and soul, is a true example of ignorance. When you completely ignore the idea that no one knows for sure, we’re all just flying blind, lead by our own consciences, you are missing out the experience of pure individuality. It not only keeps neighbors and community members apart but the different countries and regions of our world, on a grander scale.

I have been called a Socialist, a Communist, a Heathen, a Satanic worshiper based on others’ perceptions of my views. Labels are a way of categorizing, understanding, and belonging to the world around us so I understand it and don’t get offended, even if it is ill intended. I prefer the label “Humanist,” simply because I am a promoter and a believer in life.

Whatever gives you hope. Regardless of whether you believe that your God single-handedly gave you another day or if chalk it up to statistical probability that you just haven’t died yet; you are alive. You will never get yesterday back, there is only today and using what you’ve learned today to help you tomorrow, until you are out of tomorrows.

We have to stop using differences as an excuse to separate us and look at everything that makes us the same.

You had me at hello.

Today – I cut off another potential chance at a relationship with a nice person. We had a lot in common, conversation came easy, but this first hangout set it in with me that it is not what I want. I’ve met a few nice people since we called it quits but no one ever feels quite right.

No one makes me nervous, no one rocks my solid center to the core. No one makes my hands clammy, or gets me stuck in my head, over-thinking and over-analyzing everything like you made me. No one challenged me to evolve, grow – to change my look on relationships and what makes me thrive in pure happiness. No one else that I’ve met makes me want to go out on a ledge and then jump.

It was brief, to say the least. It’s coming up on one year since we met and I have never had someone knock me back quite like that. You did absolutely nothing, barely even spoke, but I felt it. I started to realize how alone I was in that as time pushed on. You entertained the thought for a bit, said it was “such an ego boost that a girl like me liked a guy like you.” You kept me hanging a lot longer than a person with less interest should but.. we started to build something.

You allowed me to start building something anyway.

You made me feel safe, that I wasn’t alone in this new feeling, this bliss. Made me feel that I was perfect – not flawless but perfect just as I was. We used to lay there, sharing stories, videos and pictures of pieces of our pasts; lost loves/souls once connected, both romantic & platonic. You used to trace the lines of my tattoos while shuddering when I did the same, since you regret your only one with a passion. But I loved it.

I loved every piece of you.. Love.

I knew so early that my heart was bursting at the seams and it was almost embarrassing how smitten I had become. I have always looked at life from a pessimistic view; a “don’t get too wrapped up in this, all good things must end” outlook but with you, I threw it all away and started fresh. Not even really by choice but it felt instinctual – it was the easiest decision I’ve ever made. I wanted to know you and I wanted you to know me too, all of me. I think about how perfect it felt being around you, how we meshed, how our bodies came together. I felt that leaving all the complications unspoken, getting lost it it and riding the wave of bliss was safe, considering I thought that our chemistry was pretty conspicuous.

You asked me to come over to talk. I was so in the dark that I really saw it as a 50/50 split between us becoming official or you ending it. The entire drive to you, I felt as if my stomach had solidified & gravity was pulling it through my body, knowing this conversation was going to change my life; either way. You told me that you weren’t ready, that we had moved too fast. You said that I am perfect for you but it just isn’t right, that it didn’t fit at this moment in time. You said everything else was perfect but this was bad timing. But see, I can’t understand how you feel because for me, time stopped when I laid eyes on you. I understand now that if the passion had been mutual, it wouldn’t have been too fast. The timing wouldn’t have been “bad.”

You confused me with your conflicting actions and words and that’s the only resentment I still harbor. Letting me go on believing that it was great, making me feel special, holding me through the night and waking me up with a back massage and kisses but telling me in the end that it wasn’t what you expected these feelings to feel like, that you didn’t feel the same fire that I did at just the very thought of you.

Now when I see you, I can only feel the wall that I’ve been forced to build and I know you can too, I see it on your face every time. You only hurt because you hurt me, not because you lost me. But now I feel like I have to protect myself from what I know you’re capable of; I have to protect my heart. No matter what you say or do, it will always be there. It will never be the same, for you it looks like a switch that was simply turned off. It’s not possible for me to go back to being just friends because for me, such a place never existed. It never bloomed into attraction for, it was there from the start.

You entered my heart with the first hello. The first and fatal blast.