Resolutions: I Am Blessed by My Losses

Written January 1st, 2018

2017 taught me many things about myself. It taught me how to grow (in the most organic and non-cliche “new year, new me” way). It taught me how to love. It taught me patience, perseverance, and strength. Most importantly, 2017 showed me the difficult lessons that I didn’t want to learn; or rather have been putting off for a very long time. 

I’m blessed. Not in a materialistic sense. Sure, I can sit here and name off items I possess or experiences I’ve lived and list the reasons why I am unworthy. On the contrary, I am blessed by what I do not possess. I’m blessed by my losses. 

I was lucky to be in love with someone who opened doors for me. For the first time in my life, I’ve traveled to exotic places. I’ve taken planes and boats and cars and I’ve seen things I’d otherwise not been able to. I was in love with this thrill of a better life. I was in love with this escape from my reality. I was in love with the chase…or rather the run; because that’s what I did in 2017. I ran.

I ran from my responsibilities, from confrontation, from things that were supposed to better myself. Looking back, maybe it was because I had a self-destructive personality. Maybe it was because I didn’t deem myself worthy of the great things I was capable of. Maybe I used the excuses of my upbringing to talk myself out of growing. Maybe I was just scared. 

2017 started off just as any other year: in the arms of a man I absolutely adored, surrounded by familiar faces, looking forward to the new semester at university, working the same waitress job, just casually coasting by. But that was the problem. I was comfortable.

I was comfortable in my relationship. I was comfortable with my friend group. I was comfortable with my job, my education, my life.

Think about your comfort zone as your bedroom. You have a beautiful queen size bed dosed in sheets with an ungodly thread count, your 42″ HDTV that plays all the top shows and movies hangs right above you, you’re surrounded by all your favorite items and gadgets and everything in your bedroom is just as you’d like it. But there are no windows. There’s no sunlight. This may not bother you at first because you aren’t worried about what’s going on behind the comfort of your bedroom door. But dear, nothing can grow without proper sunlight. 

I spent years trying to convince myself that there will be a next time. Pushing things to the side because I just wasn’t ready for the commitment. I wasn’t ready for the jump. It wasn’t until I was forced to pick up my broken pieces and move forward when I was able to see the strength in the mirror.

To bounce off my last post, heartbreak can be our greatest motivators. It is howwe move forward that defines our strength. 

I lost my greatest motivator in 2017. I lost a great support system in 2017. I lost people I never thought in a million years I’d lose. I saw a side of people I never thought I’d see. But losing those people only forced me to pick up where they left off and carry on- and crossing that emotional hump and realizing that it is all you from here on out…well that’s a motivator all to itself. 

I refuse to go into the new year picking up the pieces someone else left for me. I refuse to go into the new year doing someone else’s dirty work. I refuse to stay stagnant and continue to sail through. I refuse to question my abilities. I refuse to wait any longer. 

I am blessed by my losses, but I will be made whole with what I build from the rubble.

A Writer's Muse

They say a writer’s greatest inspiration comes from the most traumatic heartbreak. In my case, it so happened to be one of the biggest motivations behind my publication of ‘excerpts from the book i’ll never write.” 

When you’re young, you believe love in all its’ greatness. There are no consequences to the fall because there is always the belief, or rather, the blind optimism, that “this is the one.” 

Truthfully, every crush or boyfriend I’ve had since middle school was believed to be “the one” in my head. Whether it’s because we laugh at the same jokes, liked the same music, or both have an uncanny fascination with DIY videos, I’ve always somehow managed to convince myself that this one was different. 

I’ve had my heart broken in ways I never thought were mendable. I’ve died so many deaths and swam oceans for people who refused to skip puddles for me. Through my first publication, I’ve understood the values of love and loss and how to overcome from the depths of rejection.  

But maybe this one was different.  

Either way, I know we had served our purpose for each other. People are placed in our lives, whether it for a lifetime or for a season, and we must accept this as fact. They show us a side of ourselves we’ve dismissed. They bring us to the well and tell us to drink. They walk us through a new stage and once we get there…we must part ways. 

I’ve learned not to question this journey. I’ve learned to enjoy it and take it as is. Sometimes the heartbreak itself is the purpose. Sometimes the timing is the purpose. Sometimes not knowing is the purpose.  

May your souls find peace through the bridge of my words. 

May your bleeding hearts find a voice of sanctity.

May you carry on.

Why It's OK Not to Have Your Shit Together

*This is an older piece written in early 2017*

Picture this: you’re three years deep into college. All your friends have declared majors, started internships, moved into apartments… and then there’s you. You’ve absolutely no idea what day it is and it feels like you took two steps forward and then five steps backward with your life.

It doesn’t help when we live in a time where everybody is so consumed with the future: where they’re going, how they’re going to get there, and what’s next. This is especially true for those of us who are college students trying to figure out what we want to do for the rest of our lives.

At 21 years old, I can’t say I’ve done half the things I promised myself I would. I don’t have that cool Communications internship I was hoping for. I haven’t traveled the world. In fact, I moved back in with my parents and I’m completely reconsidering all my future goals.

But you know what? I am completely OK with it.

The truth is, you’re not supposed to know what you want to do. Growing up is about trial and error. It’s OK if you don’t get it right the first time. I’m here to tell you from experience that it is OK if things don’t fall into place the way you thought they would; the important thing is that they will eventually fall into place.

I’ve always had an insatiable lust for life. Since I was young I’ve had this urge to experience things. Whether it was trying a new international food or taking up a new hobby or just deciding to drive a different way home. I’ve just always felt that life is too short to stay in one place for too long. I grew up telling myself that to stay in your comfort zone is the saddest way to live; to force yourself to experience the same old everyday things. Of course, more than once I have been reminded that ideally life doesn’t always work that way.

When I was 18 years old, I moved to New York City to pursue a liberal arts degree at a fabulously (expensive) private university. I spent a year there before I realized I was wasting away money on a degree I wasn’t sure I even wanted. I spent more of my energy absorbing my surroundings than worrying about what I wanted to do with my career.

The idea of being away from home in a big city excited me. I wanted to take in everything I possibly could. I felt this would be the place for me to gain all the inspiration I’d need to write a book or start a blog or just really get myself out there. And for the most part I was right, but it came with the cost of $70,000 just to sit in a classroom when I would’ve rather been out traveling and experiencing the world.

So yes, in an ideal world I would have that awesome internship and my own place and a passport that’s running out of pages, but I don’t. I still call my mom when I need to make doctor’s appointments. I still call my dad when my car is making that “funny noise” again. I don’t have that cool job lined up and I may not have the slightest clue as to what I’ll be doing in five years time, but I do know that I everything will eventually fall into place, and in the meantime I am absolutely the happiest I have ever been.