truth

Contending With Honesty

~ Natal Galvan

My relationship with honesty has always been irregular.

As a kid, I would make up stories even about the most typical parts of my life. I had my reasons, though. It wasn’t because I loved lying. I used to hate to think about it as lying. I chose to think of it as storytelling. I told stories to fit in with the crowd. I used to think that all the kids I met had cool lives. I wanted a cool life too and so I would spruce up certain things about mine just to make me feel like I was like them.

I did eventually grow out of it. It was exhausting, not only portraying someone that you’re not, but it was hard to realize that others would in turn read me wrong. I felt like no one really knew me, let alone understood me, and how could they? I wasn’t giving anyone the real version of me. As I got into high school being honest soon started to become my new addiction. So much so, that I became brutally honest. That began a totally new battle. Instead of before when my battle with honesty seemed more internal, now it was starting to become a more physical battle with others.

I became explosive with my honesty. If I was feeling a certain way about something, I was letting you know whether you wanted to listen or not. There was no sugar coating anything. What for? To add confusion? To allow someone to believe that things were one way when in reality it wasn’t, or to soften the blow? I felt as though that was all wasting time and why do that? Arguments with people would ensue, be it with friends or family. Then that too started to become exhausting.

It wasn’t until my 20’s, once I moved away from home and began to really look into my self, that I began looking at life and how to handle it differently. Soul searching provided me with a different view on how to approach certain aspects of life, especially that of being honest. I learned that it was important to share your thoughts and your true feelings with others so that there would less confusion and more understanding. It was OK to be brutal but just as easily OK to soften the blows, and that there was a time and place. Yet, since then I have come to understand that I now have a new hill to climb. I now struggle with the patience that must be had when it comes to others and their understanding of honesty.

To me, I see honesty as a privilege that we should be allowed to have. It should be our prerogative, as human beings, to want to express it as well as be able to receive it. The thing is, people only see life and everything about it, from their own perspective. Human beings are so self absorbed in their own lives and feelings towards it, that they tend to forget that others that they are sharing this existence with my have a different spin on what they share as the same situation. That’s how feelings get dismissed and how lives become discounted and discredited.

Take, for instance, a “break up” (if we could even call it that) I had about 4 years ago. A good friend of mine and I were becoming reacquainted again after my move back from CA. We began going on dates here and there, which later then turned into midnight escapades. It was fun but only until I started realizing that he was falling hard and I, simply put, just wanted to have fun. I was honest and explained that him and I were on two different planes in life and although everything was fine, I simply did not see him “in that way” and felt that it would only be right to end what was going on. It was difficult for me to do because I knew of how he felt for me. Who wants to break someone’s heart? Yet, I couldn’t lead him on or waste his time nor mine. His reaction wasn’t good. He hated me of course and called me every name in the book. He went on to talk shit about me to all his friends, spewing all sorts of negativity to anyone who would listen. I was in shock. I knew he was going to be upset, but to the point that he had spoken so ill of me? I was in shock because I hadn’t understood what he had wanted me to do. Had he wanted me to lie to him and put up a charade all so his ego’s needs could be met? It took so much patience to not lash out the way I wanted to about that situation and that’s only one example. I see it everyday with the people I come in contact with , the battles we all have with honesty and all the internal and external struggles it comes with. So are battles with honesty that irregular then? Or is it actually more common than we considering human beings and how we think, which is in mainly an introspectively self absorbed way.

I place a high value on honesty when it comes to terms with myself and others. I choose to be a woman of integrity and want for my character to always be able to be described as open, honest, and approachable. I want to be receptive because if I want to be heard, I too need to listen in order to understand.

I guess maybe these aren’t even battles with honesty at all. It’s just learning life.

Welcome Back

~ Natal Galvan

Death always has a way of stirring up thoughts and emotions that one sometimes ignores.

My grandmother almost died last week. The little firecracker put a real scare into everyone. All seven of her kids flew to Colombia to be by her side. A couple days later she made almost a full recovery. As full of a recovery that an 86 year old lady who just happened to catch a bad case of pneumonia could. She also had blood clots forming in her lungs which is what made the doctors question how much longer the little lady had to live.

The scare reunited the family together. For a week they all stayed by her side, laughing, crying, reminiscing over the good and bad times they have shared together. For me, my grandmother’s close to death experience made me think long and hard about all of the sacrifices this woman had to make in life raising 8 children, losing one of them, all while married to a husband who hadn’t loved her as much as he should have. It made me think about my life and how I never wanted to sacrifice my entire existence to please others instead of pleasing myself.

I hadn’t realized how unhappy I had recently become until a few things happened that triggered a shut down. When I say I shut down I mean I shut down. Other than getting up for work and robotically moving throughout my workday, I couldn’t muster up any energy to do anything else. No writing. No painting. No socializing. All I wanted was to come home, crawl into my bed and get lost in a world of Netflix and YouTube videos. The night would end and the next day would start, the same routine all over again. I was depressed and I hadn’t even realized it until an argument was had with the guy I was seeing which really placed things into perspective for me,  which was then followed by the news of my grandmother’s declining health.

I decided to take certain matters of mine into my own hands. I made a firm decision to walk away from a situation that wasn’t working for me. It’s been a few days and I can’t say I regret doing so. I hadn’t realized how stressed out I was before, and now that changes have been made it is like my days are a little brighter and I go about my life like a summer breeze, cool and calm. I feel like I am almost back to being me again. Even as I sit here and write this I wonder how I could let such outside forces really determine whether or not I have time to do the things I love to do. I blame myself for giving so much of me that I had no energy to then give to myself. It is a lesson I learned before but I guess I had forgotten about. I will not forget again. I will not lose myself or lose the energy to do for myself to simply make others happy.

Hi Me.

Welcome Back!

 

Yes We Are And This Is Why

~ Natal Galvan

I was apart of a very interesting conversation not too long ago which included my boyfriend and one of his good friends.  They were speaking of the best method to clean car headlights.

“Bro, all you have to do is spray your headlights with OFF bug spray and bam! They’re clean!”

“Yeah, you told me that but when I looked it up it said that it doesn’t last very long. It’s a short term fix. I’m just going to buy the special kit and clean them. I can clean yours too babe.” My boyfriend smiles, turning his attention from his friend to where I was sitting.

“Awe, I appreciate that! But don’t worry, I can just do it.” The statement spilled from my lips without a second’s thought. It has always been natural for me to do things on my own. For one thing, I’ve never liked to burden others with tedious duties, especially if it’s something I could easily just do my self. Plus, I’ve always been one to just take care of things on my own. Not so much because I want to but because I’ve been conditioned to. My boyfriend’s friend, who I just met a couple months ago, wouldn’t have a clue as to the reasoning of my reaction though and he quickly starts to lay it on thick…

“Lord.. all you women now-a-days are so independent! Can’t you girls just let us do things for you? I mean, it’s because we actually like to do things for you. It’s how we show that we care, seriously…”

He is not the only man to feel this way. I feel as though the majority of men see women as wanting to be Miss. Independent, yet to be honest, I don’t think it is so much of us wanting to be independent as it is that we have been conditioned to be this way.

My generation is the generation of the baby boomer parents. Baby boomers are the generation to have really started a new trend in parenting, instilling different values and ways of life. Whether you were married and then divorced, raising children that way, or never married to begin with and having children out of wedlock, one of the major lessons taught, be it beaten into you or subconsciously taught, was the lesson of being independent. Doing for yourself so you would never have to solely depend on others. This lesson being especially directed towards females. Men were always raised as being the “men of the house”. Families have always depended on men to bring home food, to help build and maintain shelter and order. Men were always looked as the bosses, the ones who truly ran the household. It has only been in the last 50 years or so that women have begun a new sort of revolution with what they wanted their contributions to be. More freedom to choose what, where, when, and who when it came to decisions to be made in their lives. Even women who have been in a loving marriage for decades will say that they wish a sort of different life for their daughters, one with more leeway to do what they want to do and without having to depend on anyone other than themselves.

My parents divorced when I was 4 years old. At that time, my mother had depended on my father so much that she didn’t even know to fill out a personal check on her own. She had been so utterly dependent on my father that when they split up, she felt as if she had been thrown into a world she knew nothing of. It was a struggle for her to get back on her feet and succeed as a single mother of two young girls. Her mantra always was, “Do for yourself. Depend on no man. You are all you need.” and as a kid, watching and observing, I took this in and applied it to my life. Before I knew it, it was my life.

I am no extreme feminist by any means. Yet, I do understand the thoughts behind those that are, just as I understand the frustrations plaguing men when it comes to the evolution of women and the roles men now play in their lives. But as it is a struggle for men to adapt to a woman’s newly found independence, it is also a struggle for women to find a middle ground with wanting to be independent while also allowing room for someone else to help take care of you. It is a small battle that presents itself regularly in life. One that I don’t ever see being won by either party but one that can be a bit more manageable.

For me it is a struggle to let go of the reigns a bit and allow for someone else to take on  more than what I am used to giving up. I have to remind myself that yes, although I am very independent, I also have to allow others who love me to do things for me, not because I can’t do them myself but because for them, it’s a way to show that they care. It takes effort and awareness to be able to allow for this to happen but it’s a challenge worth accepting if it means bringing a bit of joy into someone else’s life. I hope that for the women who read this post it allows for you to take a step back, however slight that step may be, in order to allow someone else to do for you. Allow them to care for you in ways that they would like to express. Give them that chance to express. I also hope that for the men who read this you may now understand that maybe it isn’t so much that we hate your help. It is that we have grown into independence and truly know nothing else.

Bottoms Up. Lights Out

~ Natal Galvan

It was like I had suddenly woken up from a century long slumber. When I say suddenly, I mean suddenly. It was like a loud mental crack back into reality. My eyes took a while to open for they felt to me as if they were swollen shut and to be quite honest my body felt like a sack of cement. My eyes roamed around but nothing to me looked at all familiar. My surroundings seemed and felt odd. I simply felt completely out of place. I slowly tried to sit up but could only prop myself up onto my elbows, I was feeling extremely groggy. I looked around the room,  a pale blue color covered the walls surrounding me. I was in some sort of hotel room it felt like. The area of the room that I was in was covered in very tacky beach decor with shells and flamingos dancing all over the place. I was on a hard couch and directly in front of me stood a balcony with its doors completely open. The white sheer curtains danced in the breeze and if it wasn’t for the fact that fear was slowly gripping me around my throat, it all would have seemed almost peaceful. I was definitely in a hotel room but who’s? I could faintly hear the ocean roaring in the distance, seagulls adding to nature’s acoustics. The sudden voices coming from behind me made me jerk around to see who and where it was coming from. 

This was my initial reaction to waking up in an unknown place with absolutely no memory of how I got there. Although I had tried to forget about this, it all came rushing back when I was watching the news today.

A good looking couple from California have made headlines after being caught drugging and raping unsuspecting women. The pair would hit the streets in search of victims, charming them, drugging them, and then leading them back to their private office to have their way with them. Over 1,000 videos were found on both of the suspect’s phones allowing authorities to believe that there are many more victims than just the two that have come forward.  The two suspects deny any such allegations and are currently out on bail.

These two were not the couple that drugged and raped me, but they might as well be.

I will never forget the duo who charmed me into inviting them to hang out with my co-workers and I one evening after work. It was about 10 pm and I had just finished my night shift at the restaurant. I had decided to wait for my co-workers at a local bar right in between our place of employment and where I lived. I sat alone at a table for six. The bar was busy with tourists. By this time most seemed drunk and those that weren’t yet would be soon getting there. The live band playing had a crowd on the dance floor and I was soaking up the good vibes while I waited. It wasn’t long before I was approached by a pretty girl and her boyfriend. They were visiting from Ohio, a quick getaway for the couple who wanted a break from their hectic family life. They were both beautiful people. She had shoulder length  shiny, black hair and ice blue eyes. He reminded me of a golden boy, with a gorgeous sun kissed tan, light brown eyes, and short golden locks that framed his face. When she approached me initially she asked if I mined if the two  could sit down at the table with me until my friends arrived and of course, me not wanting to be rude, said yes.

From that point on the entire night was anything but normal. Looking back on it, I should have suspected that something was about to go terribly wrong because of the fact that things weren’t panning out as they normally would have. Back then though, a switch of scene and people added a much needed excitement to my life. I, however, was not prepared for, nor wanted, the kind of excitement that was getting ready to present itself.

As we waited for my friends to get out of work, this girl and I were chatting away. She asked me what it was like living in a touristy spot and about my tattoos. I asked her what sort of hectic life her and her boyfriend were trying to vacation away from. We chatted and it seemed natural. I was pleased to have found company while I waited. Her boyfriend offered to buy us a round of beers. I ordered a Miller Light but for some reason I was not in the mood for too much drinking, so I babysat that bottle until my co-worker’s arrival. Introductions were barely made when the couple asked if there was a strip club in the area. They were looking to spice up their last night out on the beach,

“What a more perfect way to end our vacation than with some ass and titties!” He shouted, overly excited. She seemed a bit embarrassed by his question but there was a slight flicker in her eyes that gave way to her also wanting in on this type of fun. One of my co-workers mentioned the low quality strip joint located right before the bridge before heading out on the island and offered to drive us all if the couple paid for his beers, and just like that, we all ended up piling into his SUV driving out to Fantasy’s.

At this point, I was only one beer in and not really wanting to head to the strip joint. I had been there a coupe times with friends before and it wasn’t anything to write home about. It was small and dingy. The girls are a reminder of sadness and instead of enticing a good time all they stir up in you in an overwhelming feeling of loneliness and pity. I wasn’t motivated but I also didn’t want to go home. I wanted a night out with friends and if that meant heading to Fantasy’s for  bit then I would suck it up and go.  It wasn’t more than 15 mins after arriving at the strip joint that things took a turn, which would then land me in this couple’s hotel room, naked, vulnerable, and with no sense of what had happened to me.

We arrived and immediately everyone headed towards the bar to get their first drink, everyone but me that is. I still wasn’t in the mood to have a drink, which for everyone who knows me that’s not in my normal character. I am not sure why I wasn’t in the mood to drink that night. I’d like to think that maybe my subconscious knew that there was something dangerous lurking right around the corner. No matter the reason, I didn’t heed the warning. My friends questioned why I wasn’t drinking and I remember telling them, “Not yet. In a bit I’ll order something..” I felt like I just wanted to be alert for a little longer. I really wish I would have stood my ground when the couple approached me with a shot.

“Cheers! To the three of us! Here’s is to unexpected new friends and a wild night!” That was his speech and although I found it a bit out there, I took my glass and clinked it with theirs.

“Bottoms up!” She said and from that point on, my night a blur, then ended with lights out.

The rest of the evening I can only recall in small bits and pieces. I do not remember leaving the strip club although I was told that we stayed there for about 45 mins. A co-worker informed me that I didn’t want to leave and had even given a wad of cash to one of the dancing girls after she told me a story about her and her kid “just trying to survive.” My memory only holds a picture of the club and then all of the sudden, we are back at the same bar we had all previously met up at. I vaguely remember feeling extremely tired and wanting to go home. I was told that at this point I had told the others that I was going to the bathroom and that I had gotten up to leave stumbling on my way out and never returning. For my friends, it was not unusual for me to disappear like that. I have always hated good-byes and so when I am ready to go home I make my way out using one excuse or another and simply disappearing. What was unusual for them was the fact that I seemed overly intoxicated even though I had only had a beer and a shot. That was not normal for me. I’ve always been known to handle my alcohol so that did raise  few eyebrows, but not enough for anyone to assume that something was wrong.

A couple minuets after me leaving for the “bathroom” the new couple said their good-byes and disappeared into the night.

I have no idea how things transpired from here on out. Considering I have no memory of even leaving my friends behind at the bar, I for sure have no clue how it was that I ran into this couple while on my journey home. My next snapshot of the night is of me in their hotel room standing out on the balcony but barely able to hold myself up. The next snapshot is of me sitting on the bed and the girl playing with my hair. After that? Nothing.

I woke up the next morning feeling like I had been hit by a semi-truck. It took me a few seconds to muster up the energy to sit up and look around and that’s when I discovered the severity of my situation. I was completely naked  barely wrapped up in only a thin bed sheet. I was laying on the couch and when I looked around the room that’s when I saw the couple, each laying on the bed sprawled out and also naked. At that very moment I was overwhelmed with many emotions, embarrassment, violated, bewilderment, sadness, guilt. But before being able to fully ingest all that I was feeling, all I wanted to do was to get out.  I quickly got up and quietly gathered my things. I grabbed my purse, my clothes, my phone and snuck into their bathroom to get dressed. It wasn’t until I put  my shoes on that I felt dread. My work shoes were severely scuffed, the soles of both shoes peeling away  the tops as if I had been dragged.

I left their bathroom and headed towards the door not once looking back. It was as if I just couldn’t bring myself to see the reality of my situation. I exited the room and soon realized I was only two blocks away from my home. I walked the two blocks in a fog. I felt bruised all over. My arms had bruises running from underneath my armpits all the way down to my wrists. My legs felt like lead. I felt soreness on both sides of my rib cage.

Once I arrived at my apartment, completely drained, I collapsed on my bed and slept for hours. It wasn’t until I woke up at almost 5 pm that I really was able to dissect the situation and try to understand what had happened to me. My body felt like a sack of bruised potatoes and that immediately brought tears to my eyes because with how I felt, how could I not remember what had happened to me? I immediately headed to my local walk-in clinic and after explaining what I had gone through got tested on any possible STD out there. The sorrow in the physician’s eyes should have been comforting but instead it made me feel ten times worse. It was at this point, when sitting on the medical table getting swabbed and blood work done, that I looked down and saw on my left wrist a beaded pink bracelet. It was the same bracelet that the girl had on the night before and here I was wearing it, undeniable proof as to what transpired the night before. I still have the bracelet to this day. I’m not sure why I kept it but it is put away in a jewelry box, a small reminder to always stay on alert.

Once I arrived back home from the clinic I messaged my sister and told her somewhat of what happened. I kept out the part of me waking up naked and seeing the couple sprawled out on the bed, also bare. My mother still doesn’t know. I’m sure that soon she will read this and her heart will be broken into a billion little pieces. I was also seriously dating someone at the time and although I did tell him what happened, I also left out the details of how I woke up and what I believed really happened. Do I think they would have negatively judged me? Not really, but I do believe that in their mind I maybe asked for it by putting myself in the situation when befriending the strange couple.

Now that this incident is over a year old, I am ready to talk honestly about the situation and what happened to me where as before I had no strength to do so. The level of guilt and embarrassment one feels when something like this happens to you is something no one is really prepared to talk about. It is almost as if one would rather sew up the lips than to ever utter a detail, and the feeling of reliving it all over again through speech is terrifying.

When I came across the news headline of the couple in California who were going around doing what was done to me to others, ice ran through my veins. All of the emotions I had bottled up and stored away came rushing back and my heart truly went out to the women affected by such trauma.

Sadly, our cases aren’t unique or seldom. What happened to us happens everyday to countless women and men alike. I feel as though one of the biggest mistakes we commit as a society is to cover up any situation that doesn’t seem ideal. We don’t really talk about the dangers that lurk around every corner and if we do, we speak of it as though it could never happen to us, making it that much more difficult to speak about when it does. One shouldn’t feel embarrassed or guilty after going through something like this and it is society that makes us feel this way. Being honest and speaking up over such monumental occurrences is what will allow for healing as well as encouraging awareness. We as a society need to become more aware. We need to start standing up for one another in being protective not only of ourselves but of those around you. Together we are a single unit. When will we start to realize that if one of us hurts, society as a whole hurts? It’s time we become more available to those who need a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen, without the judgment and give only support needed to overcome the unpleasantries that life sometimes has in store for us.

 

 

Alone Time

~ Natal Galvan

Today, enjoying you is what I really want to do. I crave the comforting silence that comes from being enveloped by you. It is like a fuzzy, warm blanket embracing me during a dark and cold winter’s night.

Some people run from you. They try desperately to avoid any moment they could have with you. They will force themselves into dissatisfying situations as to not share a second by your side. Not I. I, instead, yearn to find any stolen chance I can get to have you for even a moment’s time.

You are what recharges my battery. You help clear my mind and my emotions from the confusion and murkiness of what at times can be called life. The constant chaos that circles above my head clanging its pots and pans for attention can be muted by time spent within you.

Alone time, you are my friend, my much needed companion. In a world where we are always surrounded by some person or thing, pulling for our attention this way and that way, I find solace in you. You allow for me to become reasonable during times of distress and frustration. When I am too high or too low for my own good, you are there to level me once again.

Many don’t understand this relationship between you and I. They see it as hint of depression. They’ll think that it is a form of me crying out for help or that I am in need of attention. If only they understood the absolute joy you bring me and the joy you could bring them if they took the time to find that moment too. They will read this and make claims of how unhappy I must be if I need to have my alone time… Oh how that thinking tickles me.

Only those who truly know me can understand how ignorance has poisoned how those people think. You are my one forever lover. Our rendezvous, meditation time.

The Return

~ Natal Galvan

If you can’t learn to roll with Life’s punches than can you be happy?

No. Absolutely not.

In the last year alone I have gone through so many different type of life’s scenarios, most of which haven’t worked out for me, or have they? One stage of life or event has lead me to the next one, and that one, leading me to the next one. Experiences galore is what has been my life lately and although I could complain, why would I? I’m just rolling with the punches, if you can even call them that.

I have switched jobs more often in the last year than I have in the entire later part of my 20’s. 5 different jobs in the last 12 months to be exact. I’ve lived in 4 different apartments, seriously dated three different men, and have met and dropped “new friends” more often than I care to count. Yet, to be totally honest, I would not change a single fucking thing. Like I stated earlier, every person, place, or situation has taken me somewhere else and as a traveler and “experiencer” of life why would I want anything different? There is no pain that I would want to unfeel. There is no pleasure that I would want to avoid simply because it could have lead to a moment of displeasure later on.

I love to feel it all. It feeds my writing. Feeling is fuel for my soul…

Yet, in the last few weeks I have barely written down any of these moments of experiences than for tiny snippets in my journal. I have been so enthralled with life and it’s craziness that I haven’t had the energy to try to place all my experiences and thoughts about them down on paper.

“Life has been so crazy..” what an excuse for not finding the time to write. In reality even if life is crazy, does it truly stop us from doing what we love? Or is it just us? Are we the crazy ones for getting in our own way and as typical human being we decide to blame something else that is bigger than us for our own demise and pitfalls? I guess it depends on who you ask. I have had the time to write. It is not because Life is crazy… If you ask me, I believe we are the crazy ones. It is not life.

Life is simple and beautiful. There is a mysterious science to how it works day in and day out. We are the underlying variable that make this experience in life one way or another. We are the stormy winds that propel an experience in a either positive direction or a negative one. We are the placid waters that stay still and unaffected until we decide if one event or another causes us to be overtaken by ripples.

Am I crazy? I guess it depends on who you ask.

I am always looked at as crazy. If you ask my friends, I am crazy in a good way. I go for what I want no matter what that means. I am unpredictably fun, funny, spontaneous, with disappearing just enough here and there to keep them always wanting more.

If you ask strangers, all of which I just mentioned, makes me crazy in a bad way, but that is because they do not know me, which makes me in turn say: Who the fuck cares about your opinion anyway? Someone else may, not me.

I am Life. I am my life. I am this life.

No, I haven’t written much about it recently. Be prepared though, because Life has surely blessed me with enough material…

It’s only now that I actually have the energetic sanity to write about it.

Taking Responsibility

~ Natal Galvan

Today’s horoscope suggested that I take responsibility for some of the not so good parts of my life. It’s right. I mean how often do we actually sit down and take responsibility for the things we mistakenly bring into our lives? Not often. I know that I preach my advice for others to really take a deep look into themselves and acknowledge the wrongs they’ve done to really overcome whatever it is they may be going through. It’s time for me to take my own advice, no?

Today I take responsibility for something as small as signing up to a random website and then getting upset at receiving the junk mail that goes with it. I go through the hassle of signing up for things to then find myself unsubscribing. I mean, as soon as I plug in my email should’t I already know what I’m in for? Of course… Yet I still do it anyways.

I take responsibility for conditioning people to treat me the way they do. Not setting boundaries from the start allows people to get a different perception as to how to carry themselves within the friendship. The fact that I bend over backwards at all times for people allows them to believe that I will be okay with anything. How can I get mad at someone for treating me the way that I have put myself out there to be treated? From the beginning I should be outspoken and assertive in the things that matter most to me instead of trying to constantly people please. This alone has set me up for many failures in friendships as well as romantic relationships.

I take responsibility in not writing as much as I should for the kind of goals I would like to achieve. I procrastinate or worse, I allow for laziness to completely take over. I allow for others to talk me into wasting time with them (because typically that is all we do) instead of taking reigns of my own personal time and dedicating it to something that will benefit me and what it is I want for my future.

I take responsibility for not speaking up when I should or shutting up when I shouldn’t say a word.  There is a time and a place for both and there are times I wish I knew when they were. I tend to blurt out my opinion, at times without thought, when all people may need is an ear to listen. So I admit, I should keep my advice to myself unless I am particularly asked.

I take full responsibility for not staying connected with those truly who love me, even though I really just don’t know how to. I allow for my introverted self to shine through most times instead of finding balance with the teenie bit of extrovertedness I do have. I could just chalk it up to my childhood and blaming the fact that I don’t know how to really bond with those closest to me, since detachment has always been a coping mechanism. But seriously, now that I have learned this aspect of myself, why not work on it instead of excusing it, right?

I responsibly admit to not knowing how to always handle difficult situations which in turn leads me to letting people down. I have quite the list going, although I will say that in the last two years I haven’t really had to add new people onto that list so maybe I am making improvements to this area of my life?

I admit to making mistakes, to having skeletons in my closet, and to not being perfect, even if my close friends poke fun at me being “little miss perfect”.

I take responsibility for not eating as healthy as I should and sometimes half-assing my workouts. I will be better, I promise!

I take responsibility for sometimes being way too hard on myself and for not only setting too high of standards for myself, but also holding the bar high for others. Why set these social bars? If I can’t be perfect, why should I expect for others to be? I mean, in all honesty, it is  good thing to set standards but one also has to look at each individual as a case by case scenario. The same standards I hold for person A may not be the best standards to hold person B or C to. So I take responsibility for not always taking into consideration a person’s individuality when it comes to this.

I take responsibility for not always eliminating negative influences out of my life as soon as I pick up on the fact that they’re in fact a negative influence. Whether it be people, places, or things, once I figure that their impact in my life isn’t a positive one, I should say “Adios!” and keep it moving without guilt or second guessing.

With that said, I will take responsibility for not listening to my intuition as often as I should. I could have already avoided a bad romantic relationship (or two), wasting time on counter productive friendships, food poisoning (I knew I shouldn’t have kept eating that), worthless jobs, ect…

Lastly, I take responsibility for not having more faith and confidence in myself.  I know me and I do know what I’m capable of. I know that I can achieve all of my dreams and those that I haven’t even thought of yet. I need to strive harder and I am more than willing to work on myself so that I can be the person I know I can be.

Acknowledging responsibility, it is one hell of much needed kick in the ass. Are you strong enough to acknowledge yours?

 

 

I Can Assure You This Much

~ Natal Galvan ~ 1 Comment

In my 31 years of observing life , one of the many things I have noticed with human beings is that no matter how kind or good-hearted you may be, you will always have at least one hater among the friendly faces.

People will hate you for your honesty.

People will hate you for pursuing a better life for yourself.

People will hate you for going after your dreams and not settling for less.

People will hate you for your happiness, especially if it outweighs their own.

They will hate if you chose to walk the unbeaten path.

They will hate you for putting your feelings and goals above their own.

Maybe you weren’t there for them the one time out of the 80, and because you weren’t a help that ONE TIME, they now hate you for it; stating that you were never there for them when they needed you.

Maybe your priorities are set a little different, different from their own. Don’t worry. They will hate you for that too.

Have you been sharing your stories, lets say, for constructive purposes? Have you been sharing in order to help a greater good? Yep, they will hate you for that too.

Let us take a look at some of the greats: Buddha, Jesus Christ, Princess Diana, Bono, Mother Teresa, all of which are some of the greatest humanitarians that this planet has ever seen. Yet even they have people with a list a mile long stating the things they hate about them.

I am no Mother Teresa I can assure you that much, but I can relate as I am sure you all can (yea, I’ll have a hater for this statement too) . We all have a hater or two (or 20) hanging around reminding us why we are “terrible” people. For many of you out there the need to please everyone you come in contact with is great, but I can assure you that you will drive yourself crazy trying to satisfy the many personalities that roam this planet. No one entity can make every human being happy, not even God, so how could you?

This life is your only life to live so live it to your truth without concern and without regret. You can still be a good person and selfishly live your life. Our time here is limited so the worst thing you could do is worry about what others around you make think of you. Most times they are lost as to what they should be doing with themselves, with their lives. Live your truth. Go after your own happiness. Do not resent those who hate you for what you are doing. Instead show them that they too can achieve the things they want out of life if they decide to one day tune out negativity. Be that example and show the world that no matter what, no matter how tainted and imperfect you are, you are still able to dance among the stars.

 

 

Love That Bad Situation

~ Natal Galvan

I don’t hate you. How could I ever? You taught me exactly about what I would never want out of life.

Please do not get me wrong though. If I see you coming, I’ll dodge you like the murdering bullet that you are, for all you do is kill a good situation. All that you touch you tarnish even if the intention isn’t so.  Your caked on prints are all that is left behind everywhere you go; an icky reminder of a painful and intolerable “what once was..” and now thankfully isn’t so.

Happiness courted me almost immediately. Walking away had been easy. Accepting this new found bliss and joy? That was even easier. Never looking back, I keep one foot in front of the other. There is no bewilderment as to why things happened the way they did. My intuition had always expected it. I never ask they question “why?” or “where are you now?” I know that in the darkest parts of a shadow cast is where you sadly linger. Keeping myself surrounded by the whitest of lights keeps every bit and part of you at bay.

I do not hate you. Why would I? You taught me all about life and how foolish we all can be. You taught me not to believe in the illusion of that  which easy comes. You taught me the importance of what it means to stay true to that which is me.

Just Like You.

~ Natal Galvan ~ 1 Comment

I am fucked up. I am just as fucked up as you.

I tell lies; big, bold faced lies. I lie to myself everyday, right to my face. I don’t understand why since with the others I blab out the truth. An open book I am with them; strangers, friends, and even foes. Yet here I stand before this woman in the mirror, and lie.

I pretend that the horrors of my past don’t matter. That I have overcome it all. I am an actress embracing the role of a lifetime, the role of it all being ok. The truth is I am just as fucked up as you.

I get angry; not just over anything. When I do it’s a build up of sorts. When I do? Run for the fucking hills because the volcano will spew, consuming all in its wake.

A girl so “happy” and “positive” all the time surly has her days. When the day is here and the moment is now, it is a terrible day for all who are involved.

I am stubborn; a mule in human form when my way is all I see. When I feel right, I’m right, and there’s nothing else anyone can do about it.

I am a loser; compare me to all those that “know”. They know what to wear, what to say. They know when to have kids. They know who and when to get married. They know what car to buy. They always know how to act. They know what career they want and how to get there.

I talk shit on those people because let’s be fucking real, what do they fucking know??

I am unaccepting; leaving nothing out of range. I don’t accept social norms. The norms set by the heartless, the ones that view the world as their very own experimental tank.

I don’t accept the rules of this world. I only follow the laws of life. I rebel against the flow that the other fish may follow. I swim against the current even when I’m drowning; it’s what I do.

I vocalize my flaws and accept them for what they are; battles within myself that will never fully fall away. Just as I am beautiful, I can be ugly. Just as I am clever, I can be stupid. I am all of these, as well as so much more.

A bitch. A lover. A murderer. A daughter.  I am the realism that dances within your dreams. I am the deceit that helps blanket the illusion of life.

I am fucked up just like you.