Monthly Archives: October 2014

Pride

It’s been a crazy busy month. October is the best. I’ve dated a bit. I’ve celebrated 32 years of life. I’ve eaten a lot (per ushe). I’ve gone home to Cali to witness a beautiful marriage. I’ve hopped on a plane to Arizona to celebrate a friend’s 30 years of life. And I’ve really been immersed in phase 3 of my New York life. I’ve been here for almost 4 months now. Holy shit, did that time fly.

So yes, I have a lot to share in terms of fun events that I will get to in following posts but first I want to open up a bit to you all.

I’ve been told as of late that my people are proud of me. It’s a beautiful thing really. But it’s garnered mixed emotions and got me thinking.

Is it weird that other people’s sentiments of feeling pride in what I’ve accomplished elicits some negative feeling in me? I don’t know why but it’s the same feeling I get when I hear the word ‘potential’. To me that word always meant I wasn’t good enough. It became somewhat of a ‘bad’ word to me. Offensive.  ‘Potential’ felt like people had an idea of where I should be; but in one way or another that idea was unattainable for me; thus resulting in their disappointment. Behind that idea it was assumed that I should try harder to live my life by their standard of what they thought my ‘potential’ was.

Offensive.

I’ve always been pretty independent. My mom said she had me potty trained by 1 and I started walking super early. I always wandered off and did my thing but made friends fairly easily and willingly shared what I had with others. When I was old enough I liked to be the one to interact with cashiers at stores and pay for items sans my parents although they always supervised. I always wanted to be a ‘big girl’.

As I got older my independence strengthened. I started getting regular paychecks and opened my own checking account when I was 14. I took my first solo plane ride as a freshman in high school. For years I had 2-3 jobs at once because I loved that money provided me even more independence. I paid for my first car and my own insurance.  I’ve lived on my own since I was 19. Even prior to that I supported myself in ways outside of providing my own shelter. I went on a contiki euro trip myself with the intention of having new adventures with new friends on the trip. I’ve done weekend road trips by myself to clear my head and gain perspective. I have no problems eating dinner or having a drink at the bar alone.

This is just who I am. I’m independent and super self sufficient.

Frankly, I learned to be this way because I didn’t get the emotional, not just financial, support I needed growing up. I’m not saddened by it. At least not any more. It is what it is. It has helped mold me into someone I am extremely  proud of today. It gave me an edge most people don’t learn so young, if at all.

But isn’t that funny. I can have pride in myself and be prideful about things but when someone feels the same sentiment I’m a bit weary.

This lil voice of insecurity becomes put off when people say they’re proud of me. I know. But it truly elicits the wrong type of feelings. Instead of gratitude, love, and self pride I become a little self conscious and anxious. It goes back to the feeling of not being good enough. That people are now surprised; because I made something of that ‘potential’ they thought I had but didn’t think I could possibly have the follow through on.

How fucked up is that?

My loved ones say they’re proud and I then feel small in some way. It all goes back to feeling like I never had a voice. I assume that people who are now ‘proud’ of me are surprised I’ve come this far when a part of me feels like shouldn’t they already know who I am by now and what I’m capable of? I feel like i’ve already proven to people who I am so in some sick twisted way when they say they are proud of me I feel like they’re getting to know me for the first time.

This folks is psychology at it’s finest. I really need to work on accepting a compliment; I need to take it for the intent that it is given. When my loved ones tell me they’re proud of me they truly are proud of me. That’s it. It comes from a loving place not one of condescension. Me questioning their statement comes from a past insecurity which stems from deep rooted fears that I grew into because of family and environment. That shit has nothing to do with how my friends feel about me. And that shit is not what I’m about now.

I’ve always had a hard time accepting compliments. It’s because I always gave myself a hard time. The hardest time really. I grew up feeling small and invaluable. That my feelings and words meant nothing. I didn’t have a voice. I guess that’s why I love to write so much. It allows me a voice when verbally I never had one. Even now, sometimes when I speak up in group settings I don’t always feel heard. It still stings. But what is stinging is that insecure little girl I used to be.

The thing is I’m very cognizant of who I am as a person. In all my 32 years I’ve reached a place where I feel like not only do I know who I am; but that I’ve truly met myself for the first time. All my passions, my strengths, my weaknesses and my potential.  It’s as if I looked in the mirror and what looked back wasn’t my face but my story. All of it. And I understood all the intricacies of the plot line and the character complexities and varying layers.

Lately it’s been all about becoming the version of me I had in me this whole time. There’s so much I want to do and so much I want to learn. So much I am still learning and I’m really enjoying watching the story unfold. I really am one for a good story.

All this shit right here? It’s called self empowerment. Nothing gets me off more than wanting to be the best me I can introduce to you.

So thank you to all of you who have been proud of me and told me so. I am pretty fucking proud of me too.

Advertisements

Fears: Irrational and Rational

We all have them. At least I think we do. I hope I’m not alone here. Sometimes I wonder how my mind can reach a dark place so quickly. My irrational fears for example tend to look like this; if I were driving in a car behind a truck that had a bed of tree logs I’d immediately think what if the logs started falling and one of them went through my windshield. Or let’s say for example, I had a fear of heights. Nevermind, that this is a real fear, that’s not the point. If I were on a rooftop bar and see people leaning against the railing my thoughts go straight to willing those people mentally to stop leaning in case the railing is unstable. Or how about my sentiment on bungee jumping? What if that elastic cord breaks mid-fall and you don’t bounce back up dude. Don’t do it.

Irrational fears dance throughout my mind at random. It’s a fun game my mind likes to play sometimes.

I was at a subway stop waiting for the train and I looked down at the tracks. Random garbage as well as little master splinters were strewn about the tracks. I kept thinking how awful it would be to be pushed off the platform. That shit is scary. I read an article of a few different instances where people who were mentally ill and not being treated pushed random people off the platform right when the trains were coming. They died. That’s not a way I want to die. Shit is crazy, yo.

My question for you is when does an irrational fear turn rational? How many times must it occur to be labeled rational? Who decides if it’s rational or not?

I used to not watch the news. I am way too emotionally driven to watch such depressing things. That has changed since I moved to NYC. I’m now on all sorts of email lists of the news variety and read the news on the interwebs. I want to know what’s going on in this new city of mine. Lemme tell you. It’s not all peaches and rainbows. In fact, most of it is downright terrible. With the police choke hold leading to Eric Garner’s death in August in Staten Island to the woman who was strolling along in the UES with her boyfriend as an AC Unit crashed down on her causing her to get more stitches than I can count to the story my boss told me of a women who was in a freak elevator accident and she was dismembered and died because of it to the rape of a woman in her 30s less than 20 blocks away from me to the accidental shooting of 2 people’s leg and foot because a dumb narcotics cop had his gun out and was fighting with a friend 2 blocks away from my apartment to the latest ISIS threat of bombing the NYC subways to the baby cub that was just found dead in Central Park…

All of that shit and more has instilled within me fears that I have never known before. It’s crazy. I know a lot of it I can’t control. The rest of it I just have to be really cautious and overtly aware of. But it’s probably just best to continue living my life the only way I know how.

Then there’s that fear that no one likes to speak of. Fear of being alone. That kind of fear begets all other sorts of insecurities and emotional pain and negativity and more fears themselves. That shit needs to be worked out. Really. Speaking from experience talk to a therapist it will change your life.

Life is really crazy and really short. Things change so quickly and it’s ever evolving. All I can do is continue to be the best me I know how and hope that my life doesn’t end in some crazy sad way and that somehow along the way I’ve left at least a little bit of an impact on the world and the people I love. Fear is there if you let it be. What I’m going to do is address it if it needs to be addressed; or ignore it if I have zero control over it and keep on keepin on; with a smile on my face.

Succumbing to the inevitable

Eventually I had to start dating right? I decided to take a break in March to focus on myself after dating some dude for a couple months that, although I had fun with, he was in no way right for me.

Deciding to focus on myself felt freeing. It was a really fun period of my life. I wasn’t giving in to pressure, societal or familial, and I wasn’t feeling like I was spending so much time on the arduos task of screening potential future baby daddies online. I get enough of screening resumes at work  as a recruiter. Win-Win. It was wonderful.

A lot of traveling happened during the first few months of the ‘dating hiatus’ (Beijing, Thailand, Portland, Savannah, NYC) then I quit my job and decided to move. In the midst of all that and birthdays and weddings and what not who would have time to date? Let alone want to start something just for it to end since moving thousands of miles across country was on the horizon? Definitely not this girl.

Then I moved. And I put it off more. I need to wait until I feel settled… I need to get a place first…I need to find a job first…I need to get a dog walker first…I need to blah blah.. It looks like I’ve run out of excuses to start dating. Yep, I’m back on the dating market folks. Me in all my awesome glory!

Last night was my first New York date. I was prepared for the crazy that I keep hearing dating New York men entails. Good luck if he doesn’t make you split the check. We’ll see if these are just drinks or if you get lucky and there’s food involved. Hopefully he’s normal. I hope he’s not married or dating someone like I found out the guy I dated was. That’s not even half of the woes I’m hearing from the women in New York and all of these I’ve heard from multiple people.The ratio of girls to guys is something ridiculous like 8-1. Good for the guys not so good for the ladies.

Because I had zero expectations I was happily surprised and had a really great time. We met at a cute French bar/restaurant in Nolita (North of Little Italy) called Tartinery. It was trendy and super adorable with exposed brick and chalkboard walls with the menu and drinks listed in pretty font. The wine selection was superb and the conversation flowed nicely. I laughed a lot. We talked about travel, the Bay Area, soul music, how complacent people become when they don’t date and how easy it is to get there, among other interesting topics.There wasn’t a single awkward moment nor were there any red flags. And he was gentlemanly enough to insist on paying for the tab, walk me to the subway after and ask me to text him when I got home ok. All in all a really great date.

I’m confused. Wasn’t this date supposed to end up being laugh/cringe worthy over drinks with friends who commiserated with the dating pains? It wasn’t like that at all. It was fun and light and I walked away smiling, looking forward to the next, with still zero expectations.

And so, with that, begins the beginning of another chapter of dating in this lengthy book of my life. Phase Two is in full force people. I’ve now added dating to the mix. Let’s see what this brings into my new New York life. Like always continue to send over them good vibes! They’ve done wonders for me thus far and I really don’t want that to end.

Jaxon Ryder

My network is down at work but the interwebs are working so here I am…

A lot has been happening. I love it so much. Although, my body is breaking and has decided to go on strike my heart has been happy.

For one, I am officially an Auntie! I surprised my seesterfriend with a visit when I heard she was starting to have contractions. I’m so happy I was there to witness the birth of my beautiful lil”nephew bear Jaxon Ryder. Hearing his cry for the first time meant everything. Seriously, there is no sound more beautiful than a baby’s first cry. It was an amazing, intense, beautiful and scary experience all at the same time.

I’m so thankful to be in the position I was in to be there. Yes, I am completely broke, no exaggeration, but money is just money. I won’t be thinking about what my current financial situation is in the future because it will change. Money is fluid. My sister having a baby? Not so much. Besides I tend to sacrifice my finances for experiences for the most part anyways. I’ll book a trip no qualms if it’ll make me happy in some way.

To be there to support my sister and to meet my nephew was such an amazing blessing. It was a completely new experience. Really, all encompassing, eye opening, new experience. It was unlike anything else I’ve bared witness to before. Crazy.

Seeing life establish itself also has a way of making you count your blessings.

I also have a newfound respect for my sister and all the other beautiful mamas of the world. Being able to bring a child into this world is truly an amazing thing. That’s life dude. Life. Think about that shit. Women make magic. Straight up. To grow a living breathing being in your body and bring it to life. Holy shit. That’s crazy.

Anyways, sorry. I tend to go off on tangents when I think about how how amazing things are. Life is incredible. Talk about blessings.

Here is my beautiful lil’ nephew baby bear. He’s precious and I love him and you probably should too.

image

image