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The Land I Loved

~ NatalGalvan

The day I left was the saddest day of my life as an adult. The funny part is? I didn’t have anything to really hold me there. In other words, it’s not like I was leaving anything behind per say, only the dreams of my future.

It didn’t hit me as we were placing all of our belongings out onto the curb. My things that I had worked so hard for just out there exposed and left behind. It didn’t hit me as we pulled away and watched as the neighborhood I had called my home for the last year fade away from view. Everything that had become familiar to me that year was slowly fading and with each second that ticked by it was all becoming just a part of my past.

The silence during the first half hour of our car ride was needed because the lump in my throat wouldn’t have allowed for otherwise. It was once my turn signal indicated our arrival onto the interstate, and that moment of me looking into the rear view mirror, that a warm sadness washed over me. California had won. A true and real feeling of failure is what ran through my veins. It wouldn’t be for weeks that I would get to feeling like “me”again and then even still, it was a hurt “me”, a healing “me”.

My eyes welled up, the tears hot and intrusive. I could no longer hide my hurt once they overflowed and ran from the hiding spot behind my sunglasses and down my cheeks. I didn’t even bother to wipe the tears. What for? The pain was real and there was no sense in hiding it. Instead I chose to live through the emotion, actually feel what it was I was going through. I had fallen in love and for me this death was worth the mourning.

I’m sure many reading this will think I’m being dramatic. Only those who have taken risks and failed will understand where I’m coming from and really, those are the people I’m talking to. Only you are the ones who can relate. If you’ve never been through something similar, if you’ve never failed before and were left with nothing more than a a hole in your heart, read this and realize, your day is coming. That is for sure. It’s best you read up so you’re not blindsided as I was.

As a kid I had always dreamed of living in the rural parts of California. I had seen so many pictures and documentaries, the lay of the land in northern California was like a dream. The first computer I ever got that could actually surf the internet, I spent time looking up and researching places around the U.S that had always interested me. Cali was definitely my number one. I didn’t want to head there to be rich and famous. Fuck that. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. I wanted to live in California because it was something that had called to me as a child. Those beautiful mountains. The sky which seemed to always look so candy colored. The way the leaves turned to those amazing autumn tones in the fall with bright yellows, oranges, and reds. It was no surprise to anyone who knew me that the second I had cash saved up, off I was. I drove out to the West Coast without a moment’s hesitation. The people in my life dishonestly supporting me didn’t deter me. It was my dream, not theirs, that I was hunting for.

I had been purposely positive throughout the three days it took to drive there. I thought about how quick I would find a job. I thought about how awesome it would be to live in the new apartment, in my new neighborhood, with my new neighbors. I imagined all the cool places I’d finally get to see. Santa Monica Pier, Venice Beach, Hollywood Blvd, the Sunset Strip. If there were any doubts at any point in time, I crushed them with thoughts of positivity. There would be no Negative Nancies in my head bringing me down. No sir. I was (still am) a firm believer in the Law of Attraction so for me, negative thoughts weren’t even an option. It wasn’t until a year later that I looked back and realized, maybe the negative thoughts that would slip into my mind here and there was just life trying to prepare me for what would later be a shocking reality. But like Karma I find Hindsight to be a bitch.

My theory on Los Angeles’ smog problem is that it isn’t pollution, per say, that is floating above everyone’s head. It is my belief that the layer of smog that always lingers are the souls of the innocent who venture out to L.A and never return to be the same again. I mean hell, they don’t call it the City of Angels for no reason. I imagine it being like a trap box for the innocent. The interior of this box looks so appealing. It’s dressed up in opportunities and gold. Shiny things hang in its interior, attracting you like a fly to a light bulb. You get there one way, with a pure and maybe even naive way of being. Before long, the doors to this box snap shut and you are trapped inside, doing things out there to survive that you never thought you’d  have to do.

Yea, as a child I dreamed of going to Northern Cali but the opportunity arose for me in L.A. I figured that I could get myself started in the city. It would be my first foot through the door and then once I saved up a bit I would migrate up north.

I never even made it to saving up.

The California life is expensive. The cost of living was ridiculously high and real jobs were scarce. Just by looking around, the amount of homeless people or those collecting cans and plastic could be proof of what I’m telling you. My story during this time could have gone many different ways. It could have gone better. It could have gone way worse. It’s kinda funny because now thinking about it, they way I lived in L.A was so carefree, it was almost as though I was tempting danger to come dance with me. The streets of Los Angeles, the devil’s playground, and I was out and about living as if I were still out on the Island of Sanibel. I spoke to strangers. I would go out and try to explore my surroundings and many times, during this exploration, I would get lost and wind up on a block a didn’t belong. The drinking was out of control and there were more than a handful of times that in a moment of sheer blackout, would take my car and attempt to drive home. I always made it of course, but that is only because I have the best guardian angel out there protecting me.

There were so many mistakes I made when arriving to Cali. There were also many obstacles that also got in the way, obstacles that prolonged the feeling of settling down. I don’t think that in the year that I lived there did I feel at all settled.  Jobs weren’t working out. Food was scarce. Bills were piling up. The roller coaster of emotions and the stress were taking a toll on me. Secretly I would cry myself to sleep on almost every night. It would have been one thing if it would have just been myself that I needed to worry about. The fact that my sister decided to come along on my little adventure was what hurt me the most. Not because she came along with me but because she was suffering. This was my dream that I was trying to live out and now that it was going horribly bad she was suffering. To look at her face filled with so much anxiety and sadness really broke my heart to pieces and so the day I was confronted with the opportunity to return home, her face was the one I saw. In my mind, I saw her looking at me with the eyes full of hope of going back home, and that’s what made me break.

The decision was literally made from one day to the next and to be honest it wasn’t too hard of a decision to make. We were already 3 months behind on our rent. We had no food except for a bag of rice and a couple cans of tuna. By this time anytime we grocery shopped it was mainly baby food and soup cups that we ended up getting and that was to be split between my sister and I, along with my dog and her cat. Crazy right?

It had just been a few days before our planned departure that I had received an e-mail from our landlord stating that if we didn’t have the three months of rent we owed him within 48 hours, he would be there with police escort to evict us. Instead of leaving as planned, our trip back home was to be expedited. We gave our neighbor’s some of our things. Actually, we were trying to sell our stuff to them but after realizing that they were in no greater shape than we were, we freely gave things away. We then packed the car with whatever we could bring, but my small two door sports car couldn’t hold much, so we just left mostly everything behind. Like I mentioned earlier, the amount of people that are homeless or who rummage the garbage for food or things to help them get by is astronomical in L.A. So instead of leaving much of our stuff inside the apartment when we left, we decided to set what we could carry out on the curb for people to take. I mean for us it was like, “Well we can’t take it with us, so let’s leave it for those who will truly need it.” It was 6 am in the morning when we finished, the sun was just beginning to wake up. Our plan was to get out of there before our landlord showed up with his police escort. To be behind on a month’s rent is bad enough, but to owe three months is ridiculous. The fact that he hadn’t thrown us out sooner was a shock to me and a testament to how kind he was, for he was a really nice landlord, and there was no way my sister and I could face him.

As we got into my car, I noticed that there was already a family going through what was just a few seconds ago our belongings. It was truly a bittersweet moment that to even think about it now tugs at my heart.

I lost a lot on this adventure of mine to California. Not just my physical belongings but I also left behind a sliver of my dignity, piece of my heart, as well as a chuck of my soul. Yet, with my losing or leaving behind a few things I had also gained much more than that. I took with me my experiences of meeting new people, good and bad. I have taken and stored away beautiful memories and also some scary ones. Everything that I have obtained through my journey to and from California has served a wonderful purpose and have also gifted me with amazing stories for me to share. Who knows if I’ll ever go back and attempt at living there again but at least now I know somewhat of what I should be expecting.

There was a post I previously made about how I’ve only truly been in love twice. I’ll go ahead and correct myself by saying that it was three times. California. She is beautiful. She is enticing. She was a ruthless love.

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A Magical World Among Words and Pages

~ NatalGalvan

Birthdays? They were never a big deal at my house. Not because we weren’t special but because Mom really couldn’t afford it.

Problems? We didn’t share over dinner and talk things out. Instead we bottled feelings up. Emotions nicely pickled, to be opened up later when it was ripe and explosive.

Shit. We didn’t even really eat dinner as a family. Sure, we ate at the same time but it was my sister and I at the dinner table. Mom would sit in the living room watching her Latin soaps or eat standing up as she would hold down fort in the kitchen, making sure we didn’t over eat.

We never did anything cool after school. Mom was always too tired to ever really want to go out, so I looked forward to the weekends when I would go to work. That would be my social time.

My dad was never around. Even once my parents divorced and he had to pick us up every weekend he wasn’t around. For this daddy’s girl it was heartbreaking to have to go spend time with your father to only later realize he didn’t want to spend time with you. He spent every waking moment in his bedroom, watching Tv or listening to music and it was a rule that us kids were never allowed to knock on the bedroom door, unless it was a real emergency. If he wasn’t locked away in his room, he was downstairs on his computer. It wasn’t until I got a little older that I realized he was talking to women online, while his wife was in the kitchen cooking dinner or out back doing laundry. Needless to say, the few memories I have of him are bathed in feelings of heartache so I tend to never drive down memory lane.

In school I had only a small group of friends which over time I came to slowly realize I didn’t fit in with. They were rich, sophisticated, white girls with the privileges I could only dream of. They went on cool holiday vacations like skiing up north or Disney trips down south. They had the designer labels. The pretty hair. The expensive make-up. They cheered for the school’s teams. They had the good looking guys falling at their feet.

Me? I was a frizzy haired Latina. My clothes were always from the clearance rack. I didn’t know how to really wear make-up but it didn’t matter because Mom wouldn’t buy me any anyways. I dreamed of joining the cheer leading team but to join any after school activity was an impossibility. With Mom always working, car rides to and from the games and school, it was a no go. Plus, who would take care of my sister??

It wasn’t long before the differences between my “friends” and I were too much for them to bare. I was, one day randomly, excommunicated from the group. Hours turned to days. Days into weeks. Weeks into months. I was alone in school. I was alone at home. My friends didn’t want to deal with me anymore and my poor mother working two and three jobs just to be able to raise my sister and I wasn’t able to deal with me. At this point in my life I saw the world as everyone else’s except mine. For some reason it was as though I didn’t deserve the world and I couldn’t figure out why.

It was a shitty time in my life, those pre-teen years of mine. During that school year in which I had been excommunicated from the group, that was also the time in which I was sexually molested by a distant family member. You know what they say, “when it rains it pours..” and for me that year was like a goddamn tsunami. I didn’t speak to anyone about what was going with me but I didn’t have to speak verbally for my demeanor spoke volumes. Unfortunately, the fact that I had shut down emotionally was chalked up to what was me entering my teenage years and this attitude I carried was to be expected. Why hadn’t I spoken up?? I was scared. It’s true what they say, many abusers threaten their victims into staying quiet. They threaten them and their family, most times shifting the blame from themselves onto the victim, stating that if they talk to anyone they will be hated for ruining the family. That was exactly what happened to me.

It was the very next day of when the molestation happened that I received and early morning phone call. It was Saturday morning and my mom was at work. I was at home babysitting my sister when the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hey Nata, is that you??” I recognized his voice immediately and it froze me into place. Where was he? Was he outside?? Was he watching me?? He was military so I imagined him having these crazy super powers like being able to get into my house to violate me without anyone knowing.

“Nata, you there?” I couldn’t speak so I just nodded my head.

“Listen, about yesterday, you have to be quiet. I know I already told you that but I just need to make sure you understand. You know I have a wife and my daughter. If they were to find out what you did you would get in a lot of trouble with them. Your family, like your mom and your abuelita, will stop talking to you because you let a man touch you. You hear me?? You cannot say anything or else everyone will get mad at you. You understand what I’m saying?” He spoke quickly and quietly.

“You get what I’m saying to you??” he repeated.

“Yes. I won’t tell.” I told him and with that I quickly hung up.

It’s weird because looking back I feel like I knew that what he did and what he was doing now by calling was wrong. I knew I should have told someone and that most likely my family wouldn’t get mad but the fear of the slim possibility that they might hate me and too excommunicate me, was huge. So I stayed quiet. I held that secret in for an entire year. It was the longest year of my life.

Anything that had to do with growing up and evolving I did on my own, independently. After a few weeks had gone by and still no word as to when my “friends” would be talking to me again, I dove head first into the world of words. I read and wrote from the moment I was settled on the school bus all the way through the day and way into the evening. The books that I read or the endless amount of journaling I did is what saved my life, multiple times. I’d get lost in these fictional worlds, headed out on these amazing adventures with these characters I wished were real. I wasn’t worried about paying attention in class or about having to get my homework completed. Did any of that really matter in the grand scheme of things?? Not in my world. What mattered to me was getting through my days with the least amount of pain as possible and school work got in the way of that. Some days were of course better than others, but in my mind, without the books, without the journals, my pain could have been a lot worse. Looking back on everything, it is no wonder that today it’s hard for me to personally connect with anyone. From a young age I grew up with the knowledge that people will always let you down, no matter who they are. To be honest, it was one great lesson to learn and better to learn it sooner than to get blindsided by disappointment later.

Today, although I love people and do consider myself quite the people person, I also know that I suffer a lot from the anxieties of having to deal with social and personal relationships. I call myself an extroverted introvert, meaning, it’s no problem for me to strike up conversations with strangers. I’m ok with going into a room full of people I do not know and having to mingle, yet at the same token I hate having to do so. I’ll go as far as to say that I absolutely dread it. It wasn’t until I had to start seeing a therapist as a part of my probationary conditions that it was pointed out to me my level of anxiety when it came to people and relationships. I suffer from social anxiety with strangers but also with the closest people in my life. I can make plans with family or friends and from the moment the plans are made I am in panic mode. I can’t make up my mind on whether or not to go through with the plans or break them. Most times, any plans I make with others I break. I begin to run through all of these different scenarios, all of which are negative, and before you know it I am talking my way out having to participate. I’m getting much better at dealing with this, through the help of books like the Secret, The Four Agreements, and other teachings that I have within the last few years discovered. Yet, I still find security at home, alone, with my pets. That is really the only time I ever feel comfortable. When I’m surrounded by others, buried deep within my mind is the fear of, which of all these people will hurt me next? How long will they be around for? How long will they be able to tolerate me for? My defenses are always up and to be honest it is quite exhausting. Yet as time passes I am grateful because throughout all the pain. heartaches, and let downs, I have become very strong.

I am slowly working on me. I finally have the time and the fortitude to simply let everything else go and just focus on myself and the things I need to get through. During the roughest moments of my life I have had only reading and writing to really help me get through. I sometimes hear of cases where kids are being bullied full-time, meaning at school as well as in the safety of their own homes, driving them to commit suicide. I see myself in so many of them that I cry with the pain of knowing how they felt. I often wish that they had had an outlet. I often wish that they had found a magical world within the pages of a book to save them. Something so simple and so obtainable as that and yet these kids couldn’t find their way towards survival. I guess maybe that’s why I write about everything and anything. Who knows who will end up coming across these words, who will scroll down these pages and find that comfort they needed. The comfort of knowing that one truly isn’t alone. That there are many others going through similar experiences and that only by sharing with one another will we be able to find solace not only within others, but more so within ourselves.

Maybe within these words someone will figure out that we are our own biggest project and it’s a project one must never quit on.

11380976_468219776660004_1021574899_n Photo Credit: Arturo G. Muse: Natal Galvan

 

 

Feeling Lost? You May Be Living for Others…

~ NatalGalvan

My parents divorced when I was only four years old. My sister wasn’t even one yet. It was almost instant that I was thrown into the role as “Mommy’s Little Helper” and although I was more than happy to help, it still wasn’t a role I chose.

Growing up wasn’t easy. Between trying to keep my grades afloat and helping out around the house, while also ultimately helping mom raise my sister, I’ve never really had a true and unique identity. Sure, I knew my name and what my favorite color was but anything deeper than that I could attribute it to someone else. They way I talked, the way I thought about certain things, it wasn’t 100% me but a compilation of everyone else.  It seemed that at that very point in my life I was always trying to please everybody else. The weekdays were dedicated to trying to impress my teachers and friends. After school was the time to really show my mom what a big girl I was and would win her over by helping with the day to day chores as well as serving as an entertainer/baby sitter for my sister. I spent every waking moment with that little rascal once school was out for the day and every summer break was dedicated to being with her from sun up till sun down. For 20 years her and I shared a room. We woke up together, we’d play together, we’d fight and cry, and tear each other’s hair our a few times a month. It’s no wonder how she ended up being my best friend after all these years.

The weekends were rough because that was a completely different world than what I was used to. I had to spend the weekends at my father’s house. Not only were they a different culture to absorb, but the stress that came along with having to deal with him and his new family (5 step brothers and his “younger than my mother by many years” wife) were a burden. It wasn’t long before I began to hate going to go visit him and eventually I would stop going all together. Still, during the time I did have to visit, it was a time in which I had to put who I was on hold just to please them, just to avoid ridicule. It wasn’t until I graduated high school and moved out of state, away from everything I knew, that I began to uncover who I truly was but even still, that too took time. I had been conditioned to be a people-pleaser and that made it hard to live life as I wanted.

I moved to Florida in ’08 and within the year I was signed up to school. I enrolled as a Forensic Psychology student. I had a plan. I was to work 5 days and go to school 3 days, taking 3 classes at a time. I wanted to plow through school while working, graduate, and then enter my career. That was almost 9 years ago and still I haven’t graduated.

One of my truest reasons as to why I haven’t graduated yet is due to finances. The other 95% I wouldn’t discover until just recent . It wasn’t until after my retreat from California, and about two years after I left Jersey for the second time, that I realized what my underlying issue was. I truly was at a loss for I really didn’t know who I was, and in turn, had no clue as to what I wanted for my life.

I look back to most of the decisions I’ve made in my life as a young adult and although most times I felt as though I was choosing to do what was best for me, I realized that instead I was making decisions based on what would make my family happy. The choice to move to Florida and make it on my own was truly my choice but that came after tons of time with my uncle convincing me to do so (Thanks Unc!). The major I picked to study in school was something I picked due to what I happened to really like to read at the time, but what really nailed it in for me was how happy my mother got when I told her what I wanted to study. “Hay Nati, that’s so good!! You can find a job with the government and get great benefits!! You would never have to worry about anything!” She’d tell me with joy in her voice. How could I study anything else when mama bear was so happy??

School wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be and I don’t mean academically. Honestly, FGCU isn’t a very tough school to complete. My problem was the level of dedication I had for it. It was hard for me to place so much energy into something that wasn’t giving me immediate payouts. Don’t get me wrong, I loved going to classes. Learning is paramount for me but it was everything else that came along with it. I lived off campus and so when I wasn’t in class or at the library studying, I was working or at home completing my homework. My life didn’t have much substance other than that. I wasn’t making friends due to the fact I wasn’t ever really on campus unless it was to attend class and I for sure didn’t have time to go out and meet people. Basically, all I ever did was work and go to school. I wasn’t traveling nor meeting people. It was a very “blah” time in my life and soon I began to question my purpose for doing all that I was doing.

I took an Ethics class during my last full semester at FGCU before deciding to move cross country. Mr.Mathews’ class was amazing and it truly changed my life for the better. In this class I was introduced to the Law of Attraction, The Secret, and many other life changing ideals like meditation and chakra cleansing. I learned about vibrations within the Universe and how to break away from the conditioning society has placed on us. This class was the end of who I was before and the beginning of who I was becoming. This class was what triggered my self discovery and since then there hasn’t been a day that goes by that I am not grateful for this time in my life.

It’s been about five years since I took that class and since then, finally at almost the age of 30, I have been making many of my own decisions. Some have worked out in my favor while others happened to be nothing more than a learning lesson. Sure, life hasn’t been perfect but I can’t even pretend that it ever will be. Yes, there have been moments in which I may have gone off the deep end a little. You know what they say about idle hands right? Yet still, I am grateful for every rough second I spent, or crazy situation I’ve been in. It has been an aid in my self discovery process and better yet, they have been choices I made because I wanted to make them. How awesome is that!?? Its taken some time but I’m beginning to slowly figure shit out. I’m starting to see what it is I like and where I see my future headed. I don’t take society or even family (anymore) into account when I dream up my future. I’ve done enough of that and look at where it got me. Following others and what they want for me has done nothing but confuse me and slow down my growing process when it comes to life and what I want to get out of it while I’m here.

I’m sharing this because I understand what many people go through when it seems like they’re lost and have no clue as to what to do with their lives. I understand because I too lived my life for quite some time for everyone else BUT for myself. It leaves you in a state of disorientation. Many people are going through this exact situation and don’t even realize why it is that they feel the way they do. If just by reading this I can help one confused person feel better as to why they feel the way they do then this time spent writing this was not time wasted.

Now that you’ve read this and feel that maybe you could fall in this criteria of living life for others, it’s time that you begin to start living life for yourself.No matter the age or the stage of life your in, you can begin to take control of it. Start setting healthy boundaries with others and begin to replenish and take care of yourself. Also, go into your self discovery knowing that there will be choices you make that may turn out not the way you planned. Realize that that is OK and that that is the beauty and purpose of life. No one life is perfect so to have that level of thinking would be harmful to your Self. The world is imperfect and it is in those very same imperfections that you’ll find happiness, bliss, adventure, and life in its purest form. Living this dream we call life in its purest form will aid you in your self discovery and you will live a good and happy life.

In the end of it all, what more could we want than to live out life the way we were meant to live it if not happily and with full hearts??

Effing Hormones

~ NatalGalvan

She sprayed me. Right in my face. She took the hose that she uses to spray the crap off of dirty dishes and sprayed me in the face with it.

She’s my work hoe. I love this girl. She washes the dishes at the restaurant I work at and her and I are inseparable. Whenever we have shifts together, usually every Thursday, her and I are fucking around the entire day. We gossip. We play pranks on each other. Whatever needed to make the work day flow with fun that’s what we do.

Work gangsters is how I’d describe us. We’re good at our jobs. We never call out. we go hard and play hard….

Except on this day.

I went to sleep the night before feeling emotional. I woke up the next day with a headache, my boobs hurt, and emotionally sensitive. Yes, if you’re thinking that these are the symptoms of a girl’s menstrual you are correct. I hadn’t gotten it yet but these symptoms always start up a few days prior. I knew it would be a long day at work but I mentally prepared myself for it. On my way into work I repeated my morning affirmations that would allow me to positively get through the day.

But then… I get to work and the mood sets in.

I clock in and look around. The place is empty. It’s that time of year where school is back in session and so the tourists on the island are gone. It’s going to be a slow day and if the rest of the week is looking like this I for sure won’t be able to pay my rent on time…again. Normally, this fact wouldn’t bother me so much. Things get paid when they can get paid, but today is different. My “friend” is coming to visit so therefore I’m suffering of multi-personality disorder. There is happy me and irritated me. Right now I’m irritated me.

There are four servers scheduled to work today so we definitely won’t make money. I’m thinking about talking one of my co-workers into letting me close for them so that I can make every dollar I can make while here, when I walk into the kitchen and my work hoe says, “Mija, what’s wrong?? I can tell you’re not you.” and she pulls one of my curls that dangles by my ear. I inform her about my “friend” arriving in the next few days and she understands. I mean it is the one thing that no matter what kind of girl you are, we can all relate on this one issue. So she got me, or so I thought.

A couple hours pass and although I’ve only had a few tables I am exhausted. Another one of the many crappy symptoms of this desired yet annoying monthly visit. It’s 10:30 am and since I did end up talking my co-worker into letting me close (which really didn’t take much talking) I still had about 5 hours left. No matter which way I looked at it, today was a no win-win situation.

I clear the empty plates off my only table and run them to the overflowing bus tub. I do this of course, while getting their nasty, double-dipped, ketchup all over my fingers. One of my biggest peeves at work. I head back into the kitchen and wash my hands. As I walk back to the trash bin, throw out the paper towel I used to dry my hands and turn around,

……..SPPPPPLLLLLAAAAAAAAASSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH……

I am struck in the face with a steady stream of water. I stand there with my eyes closed for what was probably a millisecond but felt like 5. All I hear are the laughs of my co-workers. My work hoe got me good.

Typically I can appreciate this type of prank. Hell, it’s something I would to her. Today not so much. I opened my eyes and saw her curled against the corner laughing. “Lana!” I yelled half serious half jokingly and as I stormed passed her to grab another paper towel I took the opportunity to slap her hard in the back. I head straight to the ladies room to check on my make-up. I didn’t have much on but I figured my hair already looked a mess, Florida humidity does NOT play, my face should at least look decent. I get to the door, locked. Of fucking course.

I walk back into the kitchen to finish wiping my face. Lana is still back there laughing. “You hit me so hard I think you knocked a lung out!” She says through her giggles. “Good!!” I say “I can’t believe you hosed me in the face! The FACE! I still have the entire day to go and not only do I feel like shit but now I look like shit!” She begins to laugh harder, “Oh shut up. You got me back good with that hit. Plus, you always look like shit.” It took all of my strength to not hurt her. I was so annoyed. It was like my blood was turning into little annoyed rage bubbles that were expanding through my veins. I had to walk away.

I spent the next hour refocusing my energy on cleaning and taking care of what few tables I had coming in. I needed to distract my hormone ridden mind and decompress. I knew what I felt earlier was an over reaction. Normally I wouldn’t have cared. Lana and I had joked around like this every day since the day we met. Today was no different. Yea maybe she ruined my make-up and didn’t feel sorry about it. Who cares!? Isn’t that what friendships are all about??

Guilt started to set in. I felt like a douche for reacting the way I did.

I get sat another table but before I head over to greet them, I run back into the kitchen, head straight towards Lana and give her the biggest hug. I seriously squeeze the shit out of her. I then plant a huge kiss on her cheek and say sorry for being a twat. She laughs, “Will you just get your period already!!” she says. I smile back at her and head out to see what measly tip I can incur from my new table.

For the rest of the day I felt amazing. The restaurant never got busy. I ended up walking out earlier than anticipated and even though I still wasn’t my super cheery self, I still walked out feeling alright. Sure my body was getting ready to bleed for god knows how many days this time around, but one thing was for sure, it felt good having someone in my life like Lana. A person who can hose me in the face when I’m feeling down and even through the rage I still have love for. It’s those small little relationships that people constantly overlook and take for granted. The fact that as human beings we feel a  range of emotions, one of them the feeling of guilt, speaks loudly of human consciousness and once we take the steps, human kindness.

I love my Lana. She taught me a valuable lesson that day, or a lesson I had once been taught but she reinforced. Sometimes just simply saying sorry can be the best spa treatment you could ever give yourself.

Broke Rich

~ NatalGalvan

I buy the generic sometimes because they’re almost equivalent but cheaper, but only on the stuff that is just the same. When it comes to paper towels, toilet paper, things of that nature I splurge on. There’s a big difference between the generic and brand name. No need in cheaping it up when you know you’re fixin’ to use double the amount by doing so. Meats, my Almond milk, eggs, I splurge on those too. Everything else? Generic unless of course there is a killer buy one get one deal on the fancy stuff.

I pick and choose which bills I pay on time if at all. Usually the ones with the lowest late fee gets paid last. Rent is always number one so if I’m behind on that, well everyone else is just going to have to wait. No, I’m not scared of the “I.O.Them” callers. Thanks to caller I.D I just simply ignore their calls until I am able to to make a payment. I laugh because sometimes it doesn’t even go past the first ring before I ignore the call. That must equally annoy them as much as their calls have the potential to annoy other people, so I think of it as retribution.

I pick and choose which invite from friends I accept. If I order take-out, I make sure to order a combo that has enough food for me to divvy up for two meals, and if I go out to dinner I load up on bread and salad then take the entree home for lunch the next day.

Being broke isn’t easy. There is a lot of strategizing one must do on a day to day basis. Everything from the amount you eat per meal so that groceries last you until next pay day, to the amount of soap you use to wash dishes, to pinching quarters for laundry. Every move is carefully made as to not go without. Or at least not go without often.  Sure, maybe I don’t get to buy the things I want anytime I want them. Maybe I can’t get up one random day, plan a cool trip someplace, and just go. Yet one major plus about being broke? You still have the chance to be rich if you just get past the materialistic.

There are some that argue that only the poor say, “life isn’t all about money” because they know no better. Well I say back to them, if you believe that they’re wrong because they have never been rich then the same can be said about you if you have never been poor. Being raised in a middle class family and going from that to making an easy $1500 a week, there was a point that I was just throwing money away. I would literally spend just to spend and looking back on it now it makes me queasy. Now I’m back to bringing home a small fraction of what I used to make a week, and to be honest, I am ok with that. I can even go as far as saying that I like it.

I appreciate every purchase I make down to the nitty gritty. Toothpaste, groceries, even cleaning supplies, when I walk out of the store I show gratitude to the Universe that I was able to buy what I needed. If I have the opportunity to buy something I actually want I am elated. I’ve recently made mini trips within my state, researching and finding local hidden adventures to cure my travel craze until a big trip can be planned. The smaller things in life become the most fun and memorable and nothing is taken for-granted, even the most minute of things. Moments of boredom are even beneficial. When you’re broke it’s difficult to keep yourself entertained and that there leads to creativity. So yes, I may be broke but my life is still rich. I’m broke rich.

Being broke can be shit but there is always a silver lining to everything. That’s my law to live by. You can still dance with happiness when you’re broke. Love is just as easily available for the broke than it is for the rich. I’ll even say more so. Life when you’re broke is more of a mystery and unpredictable. And us broke folk can easily go with the flow and roll with the punches.

Do I wish that I could have more money? Of course but only just enough and not more, because it’s like my man used to say, this line I’ll never forget,

“Mo’ money mo’ problems…” -Biggie Smalls

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Photo Credit: Natal Galvan, Muse: My Change and I

Postings

~ NatalGalvan

We all feel a little mischievous at one point or another. You could be having a dull day, for instance. To spice things up a bit an idea might hit you, that normally on any other day you may be opposed to it, but on a dull day like today you’re all about it and the randomness that it could bring you.

Life has recently left me with quite a few dull days. Not a lick of adventure, not even a spark of inspiration. My creativity has been halted a bit considering if you don’t live fiercely your inspiration for creation will also suffer.

It wasn’t even 6 months ago when I decided to cut my days at the restaurant so I would have more time to do what I loved and that was to write, paint, and to actually enjoy my limited life here in Florida.  It wasn’t long after when I found myself in trouble with the law halting any future adventures I was to have for about the next year.

So here I am, bored, and what do I do?? Well, you know what they say about idle hands right? Idle hands, devil’s workshop?

I one day, out of sheer boredom, came up with a way to spark that literary fire. I wanted to write and instead of using those cheesy, uncreative writing prompt apps, I decided to go fishing for stories instead, anonymously. What better way to get a good story and keep your identity hidden than to search the classifieds, no?

Ah Craigslist. A place to find used furniture, volunteer opportunities, employment, and even love?Yes. that’s right. Love.

The personals section on CL has the most interesting characters on the net that are in search of that filthy yet blessed feeling. The emotion that makes this world livable. Love. One of the biggest questions I ask myself while reading these online posts is “Does one seriously think that by posting on CL one will find true love?” Can one be so hopeful, yet desperate? I go from reading the men seeking women’s section to the women seeking men’s. I read the casual encounters then tread on over to missed connections. The stories of those who have seemed to have fallen in love at first sight yet had no chance but now to do anything about their missed encounters. Do they ever get a response?? Does anything ever come from their missed connections post? Do they get to kindle that flame they once only dreamed of experiencing?

I decided to make a post myself and see what ended up coming from that. Again, what is it that they say about idle hands??

I picked the genre of Missed Connections. I felt like that would have been the best place to post that would give me the least amount of perverted responses. My message went something like this:

Ok,
So this probably won’t be seen by the person it is intended for BUT I decided I would go for it anyways…
I just saw you 20mins ago..
You were wearing a maroonish colored t-shirt, with shorts and flip flops. You had a tattoo on the back of your left calf and you have the cutest hair ever. Curly, shoulder length, light brown? You had almonds, kale, and other healthy yummies in your cart.
We first bumped into one another while we were looking for cell phone cases. I was wearing a bright yellow work shirt and was totally in your way and didn’t notice. When I said sorry you said, “Don’t be sorry!”
We later ran into one another in the produce section. The way you slid around with your cart was kinda cute.
If the genders were reversed I would have totally asked you out… the fact that I didn’t strike up conversation is now bumming me out.
Anyways, if you read this, e-mail me 🙂 I don’t know many people out here and not many catch my eye so I’m taking a chance here, haha!
I truly hope to hear back from you…

 

Keep in mind, THIS HAS NEVER HAPPENED. I made this entire scenario up. Every bit of it was a detailed LIE. A rouse I had come up with off of the top of my creative little (big) head and within minuets I was getting responses.

Some of you out there are thinking, “She is so mean, toying with people’s hearts like this!!” And I say onto you dudes … “Are you kidding me?”  You must be..

My first response was literally 4 mins after my post. It read,

“You sound like you have a good head on your shoulders. Would you mind moving down south and giving me some of that good brain?”  Mmmmm, yeaa noooo.

The second one came in just a few short seconds after and read,

“Got any pics? I sent you one..” I open the attachment and low and behold what is starting back at me?? A chode.

The responses were pouring in and all of them were sexual in nature. I began to slowly understand the true meaning of the personals section on CL and shuddered with the thought. Who actually meets up with these people??? I’ve often seen on talk shows people addicted to sex discreetly meeting up with randoms off of CL but I never really believed it. Could it actually be so common?? Reply after reply, all I was getting were gross messages of men and their inner most sexual desires. That I will leave for another blog post, maybe even a book. All I knew is that I had read enough and just when I was to take my fake post down I got a message that genuinely freaked me out.

It started off very normal. If I hadn’t made up the post I would have been ecstatic reading it. This is what it said,

“Hey You, I’m glad you wrote. I was thinking of doing the same but didn’t know how to even start off. When I saw you today it was way before your first time mentioned. You had walked in pushing your shopping cart and all I saw was your beautiful smile. I came up with a way to say Hi and that was by making my way over to the cell phone cases. You were so sweet and from that point on I just haven’t been able to really shake you from my thoughts. Shoot me a message back. Let’s talk.”

I was freaked out. The message was cute if only what I had initially written would have been true but it wasn’t. Why would someone reply as though it had really happened? Let’s say my scenario had really gone down the way I said it did. Let’s say I posted this on CL in hopes to really find this person. This person has replied in a way to make me believe it was them when it all actuality it was a complete stranger fucking with me.

I sat there for a while not knowing what to do. Should I go on with this and see how far it could go? But I was upset. How dare this person lead me on. Even if this wasn’t real life, it could have been. They just toyed with my emotions.

And then BAM…

It hit me.

What was so different from what I was doing by posting a fake post on CL?? Was I too not toying with people’s emotions?? Even if the story wasn’t real, for a split second as they read my post in its entirety, they believed it was. There was no difference between this person and myself. I was bored and made up a post. They were bored and decided to respond to it.

I got it. I really did. Yet there was just one more thing that was bothering me. This person could have been anyone. A bored group of kids scanning the classifieds for a good laugh. A writer like myself looking for some inspiration. A lonely old man who believed maybe this could lead into something more. Or even a serial killer hoping to set up his next victim.

The last thought really disturbed me. It was a total possibility. How many times have you read a news headline about an unsuspecting victim falling prey to a killer met online? One too many times that’s for sure. In this case, Florida being a state known for it’s weirdos this could be more certain than false.

I logged into my CL account and deleted the post. I delete the emails. I quickly shut off my computer and went for a walk. I had freaked myself out. I had gone looking for what was essentially trouble and I no longer cared for it. Then I decided to come back home and write. I accomplished my goal of killing boredom and in doing so found a bit of inspiration for a couple new projects while at the same time realizing how thin a line it is that separates sheer boredom from malicious insanity.

11247633_829717257119500_379354940_n Photo Credit: Natal Galvan

 

 

 

A Tiny Web Fear Weaves

~ NatalGalvan

I’ve heard the same old sayings since I was a kid….

“Patience is a virtue” Or “Don’t look for it, for it will find you.”

Or better yet, my favorite, “What you’re looking for will be right under your nose.”

When it comes to romance, love, ect… we’ve got sayings for days. When giving advice I too have been guilty of spewing out the cliche lines I have just now shared with you, but you know what?? I feel no guilt of doing so because no matter how cliche they may sound, they are cliche for a reason. Truth! Truth is what lies behind the repetitive. They are stated because they are true! Although I have hated these sayings because of how insensitive they are to one’s needs at the moment, I have recently understood. I am in the situation where “it” was indeed under my nose the entire time. I was just too blind too see and too busy to stop and smell the roses. “It” was lying under my nose the entire time and not in an obscure manner but in the most obvious way possible. It couldn’t have been more obvious even if the man was holding a sign made from God with an arrow pointing to himself that read “Here I am”

Yes, that’s right I am talking about finding the “One” (or so I claim…again…) and I guess I shouldn’t say I found him for it was the other way around completely. It seems as though he had found me years ago and I just didn’t want to believe it. In a way I kick myself because I could have been living in this moment of pure bliss for quite a while now, but since I was too busy looking for love in every other person in any other situation, I missed out on extra time.  I’ll admit, that maybe the timing before wasn’t right. Maybe I didn’t see it before because I wasn’t ready to see him for what he was? I’ve done much growing since first meeting this chap, growing that wouldn’t have ever happened if we would have linked up earlier, so I mean maybe that’s why it didn’t happen sooner. All I know is that it is happening now and I am ecstatic even if our situation isn’t the most ideal.

You read right, our situation isn’t the most ideal and why? Because years ago I fucked up. It’s a difficult thing to acknowledge when you fuck up but when it’s the truth it’s better to face it head on than to come up with excuses that will never help the situation. It wasn’t something that I purposely went out seeking. I don’t go out into the world and say to myself, “You know what? I’m going to royally fuck up today and I hope that this small royal fuck up continues to haunt me years down the road.” No. That’s not how it went down then but it’s how it’s going down now. A small infraction of my part and now years down the spirally road I have walked down has it come back to bite me smack on the ass. And Ouch, does it hurt.

Funny thing too, it seems that when I look back at most of my mistakes, they always end up being the same exact mistake I make except in different situations.

I know you’re wondering what mistake I made and I will tell you, but before I do, I want to really express 1) How difficult it is for me to acknowledge my mistakes and 2) that the only reason I am willing to broadcast one of my many flaws in this little article of mine is only to help others who may one day read this. Learning from each other is a part of life and I wish to not take my secrets to the grave but to eventually share each and everyone of them so that someone else may decide to not take the road I have. Or maybe they will want to for maybe in their eyes it was not as much a mistake but as a proper learning curve.

So what did I do? What has been my mistake that seems to be the same one I keep repeating time and time again?? Detachment. Detaching myself from people is one of my most frequently made mistakes and although I am aware of this, it is hard for me in the moment to stop myself from doing it, especially when I feel that the reason for me to do so is a valid one.

If you’ve read any of my previous articles, you know or at least have an idea about me being diagnosed with Co-dependency. One of the conditions set for my probation not too long ago was to seek out therapy. 8 sessions were what I was to complete and thank the Universe I did because I learned so much about who I really was and why I am the way I am. Not too many people get the opportunity to figure out why they tick the way they do and I fortunately was given that chance. So six months ago I was told that I suffered from Co-dependency, which explained a lot and unlike the name makes it sound, I suffer from very high levels of commitment issues (in all aspects of my life). Not only do I fear commitment but I have an unhealthy obsession with people pleasing (explained to me as being an addiction). Some symptoms of Co-dependency are painful emotions (such as anxiety, low self esteem, hopelessness, ect..), problems with emotional intimacy (aka: letting people in), denial of ones own faults in problematic situations, needing to have control in any given situation, dysfunctional communication, obsession with things like taking care of others, instant reactivity, and setting poor boundaries with people involved in your life (friends, family, lovers..). When I began to really do research on what I was being told about myself, I had discovered so much about why I was the way I was, which in turn helped me to realize how much I had fucked up situations even more than I needed or even wanted to. Many times in trying to make my point of how upset I was or maybe simply not wanting to deal head on with the presented situation, I chose to walk away. Cut all ties from the issues at hand and never again face them. This is obviously not the way to go about problems, not in the least bit. Not if you ever want to overcome them because let me tell you, by sweeping it under the rug, the dirt is still there and eventually it’ll be brought back out in to the light. Another cliche saying, yet again because it is true.

He was under my nose the entire time. I had known him for years and never did I dance with the thought of him and I being together. He was a friend whom I could totally be myself around. Someone to share laughs with and make fun of life with. I could even share some of my most deepest darkest secrets with him without a seconds hesitation. I never considered him a best friend even. Just someone I met through a group of friends. Someone who was always there and so connected we became.

Long story short, because it is one hell of a long story, I stopped communicating with this group of friends. I detached. I was hurt by something and instead of dealing with the situation, I made my most infamous move and fell off the face of the earth. In the weeks leading up to my disappearance I felt like no matter what I did, I kept making small mistakes to annoy some of these friends of mine and the anxiety of it all I just couldn’t take. In my mind I figured, “Well if everything I do pisses you off, why be friends with me then??” So before I felt like I was to be rejected by them (which would have devastated my soul) I instead broke away. In short, I left them before I felt that they were going to leave me. That’s my MO. The fear of rejection has always plagued my life. Up until recently that is, since then I have been able to uncover this hidden knowledge of myself and have been working on tweaking a few things 😉 So yes, once I stopped talking to a selected few it wasn’t long before I broke away from the entire circle, slightly having contact just one or two people.

It was years later that this small world rotated back and I find myself facing what I so long ago thought I would never have to deal with again, except for now there is much more at stake. Now it’s not just about me anymore. There is someone else involved and for them this situation is really not ideal. This group that I so casually walked away from for the fear of rejection was too much to bare, are his best friends. Although we don’t speak much of it, I know that if we decide to continue with whatever it is that we’re trying to do here, I must fix what I broke and I have no clue as to how to go about it. Yes, I do understand that an explanation and maybe an apology is due from my end. Maybe it did really bother them they way I handled things. I don’t know because none of us have ever really spoken about it. They were my closest friends at one point and I had shared a lot with them, many firsts and a few lasts. Before this guy and I had even spoken true words between us since reconnecting, I would travel back to the times of all of us hanging out and building memories and I truly missed them. Yet, I never dared to reach out. In that aspect I let fear govern my senses.

I find myself in a harsh predicament now. I may have waited too long and now there is much more at stake. I am at a loss because I don’t know what first move to make. For now I suppose I’ll just allow the Universe to take its course. For now I’ll go with its flow and see what happens. I try to stay positive when I think about every outcome this situation could have. No matter what happens I am enjoying the moment. I won’t be dwelling on the “what happens if..” only on the “what is going on right this minuet”

Still I can’t help but think of life and all its cliches. For example, how life has a crazy way of giving you what you need, when you need it. It also has a crazy way of teaching it’s lessons and changing your perspectives, allowing for evolution to take place, mentally and emotionally. These, and others I can totally appreciate.

Scratch that.

I am totally appreciating them. Appreciating them for what they are, the beauty in truths.

 

Beyond the Obvious

~ NatalGalvan

Looking at her he sees an angel full of purity and innocence. Her skin immaculate, childlike and flawless. He knows she is a book full of secrets. A walking journal of sorts. We all have skeletons in our closet, but she’s got full bodies. He’s sure of it. Yet love is funny. It makes you do things you wouldn’t even think of doing, it makes you feel things you never knew you could feel.

Love makes you look beyond what’s obvious. To him she is an angel sent from God. She has no idea how she’s saved him in more ways than one. In his darkest moments, he felt her breath. It was warm against his skin. It penetrated and melted his heart. He could stare into her eyes forever. He could get lost in those deep brown pools that would infiltrate and pierce his soul. He could swim with In Those Eyes For Eternity. A Laguna and as mysterious as one too. What could lurk deep within those dark Waters? Turtles, fishes, leeches? Or maybe the Loch Ness Monster?

Maybe something even darker and more foreboding.

Still he cares not.

He loves her and with love he can conquer them all.

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Photo Credit: Arturo G. Muse: Natal Galvan

Server Life: The Future

~ NatalGalvan

My thoughts on the server life and the restaurant industry are tainted. With 16 years of serving under my belt, I have seen and experienced everything. From receiving a $100 tip for serving over-medium eggs and a side of bacon with a smile, to spilling coffee on the lap of an 80 year old man, to being thrown up on by an overheated baby. Working with the public can be very taxing and not just from day to day but from table to table. As a server, you are putting your best acting foot forward. Every table you take, you are playing a different role, molding yourself to the vibes of that table.

I can walk into any restaurant and immediately tell you which person has recently started serving and who’s a veteran. I can also scan the staff and tell you who is the hard working server, who’s the slacker, who’s the one always up management’s ass, who’s on drugs, who calls out most often, who only serves to get through school or are saving up for a particular reason, and who’s going to be making it a career. I can look at staff and see if the place is all about team work or if it’s each man (or woman) for themselves. I am like a blood hound but instead of sniffing out blood and bodies, I sniff out server characters and work ethics. It’s at times blessing but also a curse.

Eating out is one of my favorite things to do, and for many reasons. For one, as a child growing up with a single mother, we could barely ever go out to eat. Financially, it was something we could do only on a special occasion. That was until I started working and took some of the financial burden away from my hardworking mother. At that point, she had this thing where once a week it would be “kitchen closed” and so instead of her cooking dinner we would go out and enjoy something nice. To be able to go out once a week and reward ourselves for a job well done always felt amazing. The fact that we could sit there and be catered to while being able to enjoy one another’s company stress free was an awesome feeling and they’re memories I hold onto till this very day. I no longer live close to my mom or sister. I live states away and although I’ve got no family here, I still enjoy a “kitchen closed” moment, maybe more often than I should. I am one of those people that you’ll meet that has absolutely no problem in going out solo. All I need to keep me company is a good book or paper and a pen, sometimes those items make better companions than people, haha. So I’ll go out and with hardly any distractions I can tune into all that is around me and that is when the curse kicks in. I start observing fellow customers, take in the ambiance around me, and then finally my thoughts and observations land solely on the staff.

More times than not I begin to really watch the servers that I can tell are veterans to the game. I watch the ones who may not have intentionally made serving their career. When I zero in on these particular people, I become sad, almost depressed at the thought of how their working life has been. In one word, exhausting. It’s not easy serving for a living and I have met people who have been caught up in the game for 20, 30, or even more years. None of them truly enjoying what they do but all of them acknowledging how easy it was to get trapped. All of them accepting a fate that in reason did not need to be accepted but for one motive or another they simply just did. They got comfortable. I look at them, I speak to them, and in all sadness I always think to myself of how I do not want to ever end up like them. I refuse to be trapped in this game no matter how much money I can make. Money cannot buy my happiness in this industry. It could buy me time but definitely not happiness.

When I began working at the place that I am currently working, I started off working 5 days a week, then I opted to pick up a sixth day. I was 20 at the time and was making about $250-$350 a shift depending on the time of year. I was banking. I enrolled into school but my education took a backseat to work. I mean hey, what I was making a shift would make me more than an entry level job that I would be getting once I graduated college so why the fuck not? Soon everything came before my education simply because I had the financial means to place everything else first. Ten exhausting years later, I am still trying to finish my schooling, not so much for the career, but more so for the accomplishment factor. I have been at them same restaurant for the duration of the time, minus two years that I took off to go explore bits of the U.S.  Since I have been back I only serve two days a week. By just working those two days I can make my monthly bills without a worry and have incorporated into my life meaningful matters of the heart instead of the wallet. I spend my time now painting and writing (among other hobbies). This, what I am doing right now at this point in time, is my passion. I have finally figured out that this is what I want my life to be like. I want to go out and live out many experiences and then come back to my humble home and write all about it. Whether it’s a blog, a magazine article, a book, it doesn’t matter to me. All that matters is that I am able to produce stories and experiences for others to partake in and do not allow myself to get trapped in the harsh life of fast money. That just isn’t me. That just doesn’t nourish my soul.

I’m thirty years old, well… in a few months.. and I find myself at a cross roads of sorts. I do not know how to get to where I want to be but no matter, because I will eventually find my way there. I may have gotten a bit side tracked with the bribes life has thrown at me but I found my out. Now that I’ve taken off that financial blindfold that life for a moment blinded me with, I can truly see the meaning of my own life. I can imagine the future and I am excited. I thank all my fellow servers for helping me unravel that blindfold because only by viewing them in their past, present, and future, was I able to take notes and study the road that this job would forever take me down.

I tip my hat off to those veteran servers who have done this for longer than I have been alive for it takes a strong person to dedicate their lives catering to people in this way. I encourage the newbies to keep up their enthusiasm but to never let go of what their end goal is. No one ever went into serving saying “this is what I’ve always wanted to do when I grew up.” The server life is something you fall into and it is up to the person to sink or swim. You either get trapped in the life or you use it as a stepping stone to where you want to be. Passion is the key to everything. I’ve got loads of passion and it is what’s keeping me from settling. Hold onto your passion. It’s your life vest.

The Shell of Cynicism

~ NatalGalvan

They were the days, when you were young yet trying to grow up and be that adult you so craved to be. Many times my mother would tell me, “You’ll get burned out if you try to grow up too fast. You’ll have nothing to look forward to if you do it all now.” As a kid, you just shrug it off because you are just a kid, you don’t truly understand. Now I get it.

In a slight way I wish I would have listened, especially when it came to guys. I have dated enough of them that now I find myself guarded and cynical when I think about relationships and love. Before, every relationship had that fairy tale feel. The potential was always there. Prince charming and a happily ever after life always seemed very possible for me. Now I damn Disney and all of its misleading movies of love and life. How dare you mislead me into thinking that love always conquers all. All toads don’t turn into princes, just as we are not all princesses, us, who end up kissing these gross little amphibians. Love, in the romantic sense of the word, is made for everyone yet we are not all made for love. Life and its conditioning will take care of that, robbing some of the chance to accept and dish out what is unconditional love.

I’ve been let down by many, hurt by more, and now I’ve gotten to the point of truly not worrying about finding a life mate because at this point I rather enjoy my days alone than with bad company. My quest to find my prince charming has ceased and now I simply embrace this journey as a solo explorer. I live my days just enjoying what is life and think, “If he comes around, great. If not, I’m cool too..” Funny thing, once I gave up the search, poof, someone pretty cool appeared. A special little someone who in ways makes me want to believe again, yet I can’t allow myself to. A dreamlike thought will pop up in my mind and quickly I counter it with any other thought to turn it into something more realistic. In the moments we are together, I allow myself to get lost in a good time, yet once I head back to my normal life, I reassure myself that this will be something that’ll be over before it began. I rehearse all the excuses that have ever interrupted a romantic relationship before. I rehash the reasons things never worked and remind myself that surly this too will be one of those times.

I no longer have this innocent way of thinking when it comes to diving head first into a relationship. If anything, I now wear a life vest, floaties, goggles, and anything else to keep me safe while trudging through these hectic waters. I’m even more aware of the long list of defects I’ve got going on, most now acquired after many heartbreaks and let downs brought on by life. Ouch… Maybe defects isn’t the proper word for it. No matter the term, the effect is there. I’ve got a list of “qualities” that I find difficult for a stranger to cherish. How do you meet someone without fearing that one day they’ll wake up and realize that you aren’t perfect, and that one does have flaws? How can one relax when you know deep down inside they’ll one day see certain flaws in you and if these certain flaws are hard to deal with yourself, how is this person, a stranger, going to deal with your imperfections? It’s only a matter of time.

Don’t think I am totally numbed out to the hopes of one day finding my perfect kind of relationship. I have a tiny glimmer of hope dressed in the garments of cynicism and I try to never let fear govern the beautiful aspects of life. In a sense it’s healthy to look at things with a bit of skepticism. I’ve never been a pessimist, nor a total optimist. If I had to throw a label on my outlook on life, I would call it being a realist. Optimistically speaking, I look forward to the dates full of conversations and full bellied laughter (oh man does he make me laugh). I swim around in the good vibes and the pure energy this person brings into my life. The inner negative Nancy, that small bit of a pessimist that hides within me, tugs at my brain and reassures me that this too will be short lived. But those two are complete opposite sides of the spectrum.  They are two extremes I try not to follow for I am no extremist when it comes to emotional involvement.  Realistically, I know that there’s a good possibility of this may work out if we both want it to, but life is full of well calculated surprises so who knows what could happen. Would it be difficult if it didn’t turn out happily ever after? Yea, but would I die (insert “But did you die” meme here)?? Of course not. It would be another tiny nic on my heart that with a little bit of nature’s neosporin (time) it would heal with hardly any scaring.

I know that there are tons of people, both girls and guys, who have been through a lot when it comes to search for love. I know that it gets to be exhausting, hence why I’m writing to you specifically. Stop the search. It is a waste of time and energy and by looking, all you end up truly finding are people who are not meant for you. Yes, they are great learning lessons, or decadent distractions, but once the charm and the fun wears thin, you’ll find yourself unhappy. Stop looking and shell up with a slight hint of cynicism. Go on about your life and doing the things that make your heart truly happy and that allow that wonderful face of yours light up with a smile. That confidence in doing what you love, that happiness that shines from doing what makes you happy without worrying about “Do I look ok? Will I meet the one tonight? Am I funny enough? ect..” will be exactly what brings you closer to that person who is perfect for you. A healthy hint of cynicism when approaching life and its curve balls won’t drive anyone away. The right person for you, will see that as just a small obstacle to get through in order to achieve that grand prize, you. For no matter how many flaws you think you have, or how tarnished you see yourself, that special someone will see you as that magnificent person you are. They’ll see you for that one love they have always searched for, perfectly made for them, and will not let it get away.