I am twenty-seven, twenty- eight in October, and I have no idea what I want to do with my life. Not only will I be another year older, but a week later – I will become a wife.
When significant life events happen, it makes you stop and think. Where am I in life? Am I happy with where I am at? Where am I going? What goals do I have? How will I accomplish them? And I have a straightforward answer to all those questions – I do not know.
I expected to be a college graduate, a wife, and a mother and live happily in a beautiful house ever after. Obviously, no one’s life pans out perfectly that way (Not by twenty-seven).
My issue was I always stayed in my comfort zone. I wanted to stay safe within the cocoon of what I knew. I did not like to pursue anything that held risks or scared me. That held me back more than I even knew.
What have I always wanted to do? Work with animals and write. Can I accomplish both? If I liked it – I could achieve anything. What aspect of that is scary? Not being successful in either field. I am successful in my work in the veterinary field. It comes naturally to me. What if I write in my free time and only a hundred people read it? Someone. Besides. Me. Is. Reading. What. I. Wrote. That is all that should matter.
Today, I am pushing myself to begin. I renewed my domain, and I am renewing my love of writing for myself. I want this for myself, so I am investing in my future.
Dealing with difficult people
I’ve recently started going back to church. Prior to this, I haven’t stepped foot in church – let alone thought about it – in years.
The sermon this passed Sunday was titled, “hard questions” and the question of the week : how to deal with difficult people.
And my difficult person, is me.
So how do I deal with my difficult person in my life, if that difficult person, is me? I sat there, listening, watching…and waiting.
I’ve spent these years so angry. I was mad at my family, mad at my friends, mad at my decisions – mad at my consequences. I have pushed away, cut off, and demolished relationships because I couldn’t understand how to maintain them. The quality of life lies in the quality of your relationships – and I allowed myself to suffer.
So, how do I deal with difficult me?
I have to allow myself to heal.
Haunted
As it nears three o’clock in the morning, I lay on my back and stare at the ceiling. I was in the house that haunts me in the form of my younger self.
With each flash of lighting, a new memory comes to mind. With every crash of thunder, I am overwhelmed with emotion. With every rain drop ascending from the sky to land on the soggy ground, tears fall from my cheeks and dampen my pillow.
It felt silly, to allow these four white walls and floral curtains take me back to a time when I was a child discovering her art studio or creating a newspaper stand when almost twenty years went by. Now the room served as a make shift guest room, the toys and art work -even the children, were now gone.
It made me cling to the spot on the wall, where the dry wall is missing from me removing artwork. It made me think about the many hours I spent, putting drawings together with my cousins and taping them on the wall to display. It made me hold onto the one piece of Lego toy that didn’t get thrown away, while the chest of my childhood was long donated.
I longed for the basement days, where we would hide out sharing secrets, playing cards, getting into trouble, and passing out on the spare mattresses down stairs under an ungodly amount of blankets just to keep warm. The nights we camped out on the trampoline, just to gaze at the stars because even then, I knew they would lead me to the love of my life.
I thought about the late nights we spent, the television shows we binged, the inside jokes we had, and the growing up we did together.
Worse of all, it made me grieve for the younger version of myself that I no longer am. I grieved for the family I lost, despite them being alive. I grieved for my childhood hopes and dreams that were unfulfilled. I grieved for the lost time, as ten years had already passed.
The sound of rain drops steadily falling after the thunder passed, reminded me that these feelings are apart of growing up and some part of me has excepted that. But there will always be a part of me I’ll visit often on 14 mile.
Mistakes
Sometimes the people we love make mistakes and we have to watch as they go through the difficult stages – disbelief, grief, rage, depression, acceptance and, If they are lucky, change. It should be natural, part of human nature. We do it for them because they would do it for us.
Yet, I think watching it, knowing that there is nothing you can do about it besides talk to closed doors, deaf ears, and speak endless thoughts could not change the course of history because even if what you are saying is logical, they may not be ready to hear it. They may not be willing to hear it. They may make the same mistake again, then again.
You could be standing there, at that same door, begging for them just to let you in – to hear you out, for months, for longer. As the family, as the friend, you go through those same stages too because all you want is for them to be okay, you want them to be happy, and to do better next time but there is no guarantee that they will, that is the worst part.
The mere thought of giving up, of walking away, of being silent feels as though you are mourning someone who has not yet passed. And if you are anything like me, I want to scream, yell, kick, and fight for the right to see them as they deserve to be, happy.
I’m here, standing at that door and it’s locked. I’m scared that it is too late to make a difference but I’ll keep standing here anyways hoping one day that it will open.
Emotions
It’s a waste of time being mad.
I was always told, “You are in charge of your own emotions.” For twenty-six years, I’ve found that statement true, as well as, “You are responsible for the actions that come from your emotions.”
Obviously, this is not something that just happened over night for me. This was years of heartbreak, frustration, anxiety, disappointment, and so many mistakes acting on strong emotions.
In that moment of anger, I imagine what I could be feeling instead. Instead of being upset, I could be happy and smiling or laughing alongside my friends. After that, everything seems so small.
I choose to spend my days happy.
Golden
I’ve reached the golden age where my peace is more important than the fight.
I understand that confrontation, disagreements, and mishaps will happen along the road, I can’t help that. What I can help, is how I react and how it affects me.
That being said, I accept the fact that I will be perceived in various different ways through multiple peoples eyes, through no fault of my own, it may not be the way I intend to come off. I understand that in order to be the hero in my own story, I have to be the villain in some one else’s.
Despite that, I will remain golden. I have nothing against anyone and I will continue to move bravely just as I did before because I’m learning to love the person I am becoming.
Getting Older
Lately, I’ve had this heavy weight on my chest every time a familiar face came across my mind or my social media page.
It makes me wonder what they think when I come across their screen, or they hear my name. Do they ask others how I’m doing? Do they want to reach out and ask how my Tuesday went? Do they wish me well?
Often times due to my anxiety, my mind tend to live in the past. I worry about things I say, what I could have done better, and why I chose the path I took. I revisit memories I had with those long distance friends.
It’s never anything bad, just missing them to an extent and it makes me feel guilty. I don’t reach out as much as I use to, I’m busier now than I was then, and being in two different states plays a huge factor. However, this is a fleeting feeling.
I’m not that nineteen year old driving around, seeing my friends daily, not having a care in the world about where I am or where I will be and not having true responsibility. I’m getting older. I have a full time job, a serious relationship, two dogs that depend on me, family that I see often, hobbies that I regularly do, and local friends to see.
If that’s true of me, I can assume that their lives are just as hectic too.
It’s not that we aren’t friends, we just aren’t teenagers anymore. It’s not that we talk less, it’s that we get trapped in every day life. When I remind myself of it, the weight is lifted. I have to remember that just because it’s a feeling, doesn’t mean we have to choose to keep feeling it.
Welcome, 2023
Happy new years. What more can I say?
I’m not a huge participant in New Year’s resolutions or traditions, but I play along to amuse those surrounding me. I don’t wash my clothes this day, I wear a safe color of underwear, and occasionally, I’ll eat twelve grapes.
I believe that change is necessary but I, like the rest of the world, revert to my old self. It seems inevitable because old habits die hard.
So I, set myself up for failure and in a surprising turn of events – proved myself wrong.
Here I was, 30 minutes into the new year watching someone I disliked, entering my home. To which, my drunken mind, thought was unacceptable.
My home is a safe space, a haven. This person, was the last person who belonged in my basement because where ever they go, chaos followed.
I walked down stairs and promptly, kicked them out of the house with a devilish smirk on my face. She really tried, to bring chaos and I, met her with my own. Soon, I watched her turn and head out the door.
I have no problem standing up and protecting the people I love. Right then, I was also protecting myself, protecting my peace. And that’s when it hit me…I need to be able to do that for myself everyday.
Unintentionally, I ended up with a New Year’s resolution and I’m okay with that.
My Struggles
Lately, it’s been really hard on me. Life is just hitting me in threes and I cannot hell but look around the corner for the next two. But these hard times always remind me of one thing.
I constantly struggling with believing that I am Important to people, or that people want me around.
I want to be loved, to be wanted, to be missed.
I don’t always feel reassured or ask for validation. I wallow in silent because maybe that’s what I deserve.
Forever
Sometimes, I watch you sleep. I know you know because every now and then you’ll squint one eye open to give me that half asleep sexy smile before you go back to sleep.
I’ll watch as your face relaxes, your mouth slightly opens, and you’ll admit little snores or even whisper my name.
It amazes me that you never ask why, maybe deep down you know. I stare at you because I see so much more than your hazel eyes and soft spirit.
I see our future. I lie awake next to you and I realize that right there, in your arms, is my favorite place to be.
I see myself at your family events. Your cousin’s baby shower, your brother’s graduation, your sister’s wedding. I see myself belonging in your family. From breakfast with the family on Sundays, to mimosas at your aunts, Saturday walks down on your sister’s property, an evening drink on your Mother’s porch. I see us growing together. I see myself moving in, saying yes, starting a family.
I see the multiple dimensions that could have been, but all roads leading to you. What if we met in high school? What if we grew up next door to one another? What if I met you at a Friday night football game? What if we bumped into each other at the grocery store? What if you just brought Hank or Axel into my veterinary clinic and I was the assistant that day? How would we have met if it hadn’t been for our dogs? Because I know, I was meant to be here.
I stare at you because I cannot believe that out of all of the seven billion people on this planet, I’m the one laying on your chest and listening to your steady heart beat. I stare at you because when I was at my lowest, one glance at you and I knew giving up wasn’t an option. I stare at you because that smile gave me the courage to speak up and meet the love of my life. Any moment that I can spend looking at you, I will. For when I look at you, I see forever.
Logan Writes 