Sunday mornings with you are my favorite - light dancing on the walls as the sun rises, the peaceful quiet only broken by birds chirping, the consistency of your rising chest and calm breathing, our hands intertwined and holding tight. It’s funny what being in love can do for you. It’s like a giant dose of melatonin; my whole life I had a hard time falling asleep and now, laying next to you, my heart slows down and my mind is at ease and sleep comes so quickly. I’ll still wake up in the middle of the night, maybe from a bad dream or to brace myself for the cold as I run to the bathroom with sleepy eyes and tired feet, but I get to crawl back in to bed with you. I curl up into your body and you wake up for a second, just to kiss me on my forehead and find my hand to hold.

Sometimes I feel like I can never get close enough - like no matter the lack of space between our two bodies, I always want to pull closer, hold tighter. I worry sometimes that our relationship is less exciting, as if we missed the initial stage of our relationship when other couples would constantly be going out together. I’m sure my own insecurities play a huge part in this doubt, in the unsettling feeling that you’re going to get tired of me, outgrow me, and move away from me. But then I remember the butterflies, the way my heart beats faster when you walk in the room, the love I feel for you every morning. It’s as though my heart is waking up right along with us - my eyes open first and they see me laying next to you, and I begin to feel a rush of love and of happiness over me. I can physically feel myself falling in love with you all over again. I can only hope you feel that too.

I remember the dreams I have every night - short stories my brain fabricates based on what’s going on in my life at that moment. Whether it be trying to find my way home or spending time with my family, my dreams are projections of my subconscious thought. The dream that has stood out the most to me however is the dream I imagine when I wake up - the dream I have of spending my life with you, with our children and our dog in a beautiful, cozy home, sitting by the fire cuddled under the fuzziest blanket where I will eventually fall asleep with my head resting on your chest as it calmly rises and falls. I wake up in the morning curled up next to you in bed, with the sun dancing on the walls as it pours through the windows. Our kids run in and squeeze in between us, the only thing I would ever let break the closeness of our bodies or the tightness of your embrace. I feel guilty thinking of the future, wishing time would go a little bit faster so I can experience my dream in real life, only to slow down once we get there. For now I’ll hold on to the sweetness of dreaming of our lives in the future while living in the sweetness of our lives together right here. xx

Move your blog to Nouw - now you can import your old blog - Click here

Likes

Comments

Family has always been the most important part of my life - the thing that grounds me when my head is in the clouds or centers me whenever I feel like I am beginning to lose myself. It has also been a major reason why I have been so unstable for so long. Even though my parents only filed for divorce two summers ago, their problems reach back to my childhood. My father never truly acted like a dad, and it has been difficult to adjust to him trying to cultivate his own relationship with us after using my mom as a crutch our entire lives. It broke my heart when I heard all the horrible things that manifested from their relationship, as it was just a reminder that everything and everyone is replaceable, no matter what you share with them - a home, children, an entire life - nothing is final, and nothing is ever set in stone. 

I grew up on the foundation that nothing is guaranteed, and that you are not promised anything. It is so difficult for me to be optimistic about anything because whenever something has been going really well for me, I immediately get hit with a curveball. My parents' divorce confused me more than anything, because even though I had been wary of their relationship for years, and expected the dissolution of their marriage for months before my dad sat us down, it still knocked the wind out of me. It is so unsettling to think that even when you know something is going to happen, and you prepare for it as best you can, it can still completely derail your life as you knew it. 

Back in college, I took a close relationships class, which taught me a lot about my relationship styles. I have a preoccupied attachment style - it means I have a low avoidance of intimacy and a high fear of abandonment. Basically I don't hesitate to give my heart to someone but then I spend every day waiting for the person to give it back, expecting to be viewed as a burden rather than a person someone might enjoy having around.  I constantly think that people are going to hurt me, and it's hard not to think this way when the two people who are supposed to protect you from the world are the ones who have hurt you the most. 

I sometimes feel like I am floating above my own body, not really anchored to anything or anyone, just existing in a world where I don't really know what I am doing or who I am. I was born with an identity - being a member of my family, a daughter to my two parents, a little sister to Michael and big sister to Daniel - and then one day I was told my identity was shifting. I am now a member of a broken family, the daughter of my mother and the daughter of my father, still a sister to my brothers but feeling unattached from them both because we can't talk about the biggest pain we have in common.  I think that's a lot of the reason why I have been so uneasy lately. It is so hard to stay grounded when you can't feel your feet on the ground. xx

Likes

Comments

I had a dream last night that I was trying to find my way home. I was walking down unfamiliar streets, passed unfamiliar people. I knew what I was chasing but couldn't remember where to find it. I had 3 more blocks to walk before I would get there, and then I woke up. Home has been so out of reach lately. Not because I moved away, but because even when I do go home it always feels off. Nothing has been the same since my parents' divorce, that's to be expected. But long before that, it has always felt like something was missing - something I could feel in my friends' homes when I would spend time there. I've never been able to put my finger on what it is, but I've been chasing it my whole life.

I grew up surrounded by a big, loving family in a beautiful house located in a quiet neighborhood. My room was painted pink and there was a big plum tree right outside my window. My dad and grandfather built the deck in the backyard together. My brothers and I would play out there for hours. When I think about the last time I experienced pure happiness, I remember the little girl who lived in the pink room in that old house on Forest Lane. I think of the mural painted on my parents' bathroom wall of my brothers and me playing in the backyard like we did so many times. I think of the birthday parties on the back deck where my cousin dressed up as Winnie the Pooh because she knew he was my favorite. When we moved out of that house, I was devastated. I felt like I was leaving a part of me behind.  My new room was painted to look like I was standing under a trellis of roses, beneath clear blue skies. It took some getting used to, but this room became my safe haven - the place I would laugh with my friends, hide from my parents, and dream about the future. People always tell you to never wish away your life, always make the most of the time you have and never take anything for granted; it would be a lot easier if we knew what we were going to lose before we lost it. 

With my parents' divorce came the selling of the house - losing the room in which I became the person I am right now as I write this. And while the house isn't sold yet, I spend a couple minutes in that room every time I am home - laying on my bed staring up at the ceiling like I did so many times before imagining my future, except now reflecting on my past. I never know which time will be the last night I spend in that room.  After going away to college, I never imagined it being this difficult to let go of that house. I have never been a homebody; I came home for holiday breaks and was always immediately itching to get back. But something about the permanence of saying goodbye to my childhood home this time shakes me to my core. 

I have been chasing after a familiar feeling - the smell of leaves changing, sitting next to a cozy fire with a warm cup of hot chocolate, a kitchen painted gold in the morning from the rising sun, hearing laughter downstairs from a family sharing stories of their experiences that day.  My house hasn't felt that in years, and no matter how hard I try to hold on to the memories the feeling will never come back. I am at a crossroads between letting go of the person I have always been and moving forward - becoming my own person and forging my own path home. New beginnings scare the hell out of me, but the beauty of a wildflower is that it blooms wherever it is planted. xx 

Likes

Comments

for k.m.

I fell in love before my relationship even ended. Some might say it was wrong for me to be so captivated by someone while in a relationship with someone else, but you just can't help when these things happen. I remember the first time I saw him. I had been at a party for a while and I was ready to leave. I was stumbling across the lawn in pitch black when I ran into him. I suddenly didn't want to leave anymore. It might sound crazy but I knew from that moment that he'd be hard to get over. I never wanted to get over him.

Fast forward to the night I broke up with my ex. I left the party I was at and my friend Sarah decided she wanted to stop at our friends apartment. We walk in and there he is, sitting at the table looking back at me in his black v-neck. That night started an incredible, spontaneous 2 year love story that was also heartbreaking and exhausting. But no matter how many fights we got into every Thursday night at the bar, no matter how many times I left crying only to turn around and find that he hadn't followed me, I still could never let him go. Something always brought me back in. Something always told me I was meant to be with him. He was the one.

I've never met someone who was so much like me; someone who knows every intricate detail about me - what makes me laugh, or cry, what makes me angry, and then what makes me happy again. He's never held my past against me, only sees it as what brought me to him. Honestly I don't know what brought me to him, but I am so thankful for it everyday. Have you ever met someone that just being near them felt like home? It's almost as if you're two halves of the same whole; like no matter how close your bodies get to one another, its just never close enough. If you ever feel it, don't ever let it go. Loves like these are few and far between. It feels like my soul is finally anchored to something and to someone. It feels like I'm home.

Likes

Comments

I know a lot of what I said last night was contradicting - telling you that I have learned to love myself and be happy but also that I make decisions sometimes because I am not happy or I hate myself. It's a lot, and it puts your head through a goddamn whirlwind, I'm sure. I've been a really conflicted person, and I know that you've picked up on a lot of that these past 5 months. I'm torn between two parents, between wanting to have a relationship with my dad and resenting him for destroying the relationships within my family, between needing space from my mom and wanting to drive home right now and giver her a massive hug because I know she needs it but I know I need it more, and between loving you and acting like it doesn't kill me every time I want to talk to you and feel like I can't. I act on impulse. I fabricate a justification in my head - pretending it will help me, grow me, or even make me stronger. I am not proud of all of the decisions I have made, but I don't regret them either. Every single decision I have made has led me to this exact moment, finding a passion in writing, discovering everything I have to offer the world, realizing that I am capable of learning from mistakes and of breaking bad habits.

It wasn't you being with other girls that made me want to be with another guy, but that when I least expected it, when I had no intentions of it happening, I fell for a guy who from the beginning told me it would never go anywhere. It shook me to my core knowing that I was the wrong person for the right person. I think part of me wanted to convince myself that you were wrong for me too, that if you didn't want me then I didn't need you.

When it comes down to it, it doesn't matter if I ended things with a guy or if he ended things with me. What matters is that it wasn't right, it ran its course and then it ended. Some ended quicker than others, some were more difficult to get over, and some I was so happy to leave behind. I know it hurts you to have to hear about them, see them, and know them. It hurts me that you don't see how different you are to me, and how different I am from the person i was with them. You kept saying last night that you hated that they had me, that they saw the same parts of me you saw, and you could not be more wrong. You captivate me, like there is no one else around. I feel comfortable and safe, but also vulnerable and raw and absolutely terrified. No one has seen the parts of me that you have seen. Beyond any choice I have made, you see the person in me that I thought I lost so long ago. For the first time I wanted someone to see all of me. Letting you in was the easiest and best decision I have ever made.

I truly can't thank you enough for the support you've given me. You played a huge part in getting me through one of the toughest times of my life and I will forever be grateful to you for that. You made me feel important and worth something, but more importantly you taught me how to feel that way. I'll never let that go.

Likes

Comments

"Let's be wildflowers; let our souls be scattered by the wind. Let us grow, wild and free, between the cracks of brokenness, and we will make everything beautiful."

We are tested a number of times throughout our lives. Obstacles are thrown in our paths, and the way we react to them determines the kind of person we are and the kind of person we will become. We look for ways to cope with the changes in our lives - from eating healthier, to working out, to spending more time focusing on things that are productive and worthwhile, but sometimes things still just feel off. Sometimes we need a sense of permanence to remind us that we ourselves are permanent.

About a year ago, I experienced the biggest shift in my path. The most permanent aspect of my life began to feel very temporary and very unsteady. I myself was unsteady from the impact of my parents' divorce. People always say that being older should make divorce easier because you can understand it better, but I feel its much more difficult because you've known one way of life for so long. Suddenly a wrench is thrown in all of you plans, in all of your memories, and in all of your dreams of the future.

I stumbled across a saying once which read "I hope you have a heart like a wildflower - strong enough to rise again after being trampled on, tough enough to weather the worst of the summer storms, and able to grow and flourish even in the most broken places." For the first time in so long, I felt calm and so sure of myself and where my life was taking me. I felt like a wildflower.

All my life, I wanted to get various quotes tattooed on my body. Always something I heard once that made me feel something, which I then quickly forgot about. There was something different, however, about the way these wildflowers signify the story I tell. My tattoo gives me the ability to use my own words. The message can evolve as my life evolves. Right now, my tattoo signifies that beautiful things can emerge from the most broken places. Years from now, my tattoo can mean that I will bloom wherever I am planted. However permanent it may be, this tattoo can grow along side me, and its path can change as mine does.

Likes

Comments

I never liked writing. Growing up I always hated writing assignments in school. I hated being prompted to write about something that did not interest me, being graded on grammar rather than the complexity of thought. Writing was boring. It still is boring if you aren't writing about the right things - the topics that stretch your mind, the ideas that pull you out of your comfort zone and don't let you turn back, a string of words that turn into a sentence that can set your soul on fire. I never liked writing until I had something to write about. And let me tell you I have much to write about now.

I am not  the type of person who has a clear understanding of their thoughts as they are thinking them. I find that it is difficult for me to process feelings and emotions without talking through them, writing them down, and then reading and rereading until it all makes just a little bit of sense. I've become a different person since I started writing. I have learned patience, taking my time to understand myself and the people around me. It perplexes me that writing about my feelings has been so therapeutic, rather than a massive headache and a mess of frustration. Emotion is fluid - constantly altered by externalities, molded by the people around me, interpreted in a multitude of ways, always changing. Writing it down seems trapping, permanently carved into the woodwork. No do-overs, no take backs. 

As I continue to write, and hopefully as you continue to read, you will see that my posts are contradicting. I am a contradiction. I have been torn in two, now just making sense of my thoughts and feelings and my behaviors that all seem to belong to completely different people. The things I have experienced have forced me to look at life through a new lens. This is the world through my eyes, in my own words.


Likes

Comments