April 6, 2017

Date: April 6, 2017

Current Hair Style: Bantu Knots (I'm finally natural!)

Emotional Climate: Unstable/Confused/Happy

Favorite moment of the week: When I got my period this morning. PHEW!


As I approach the age that my parents were when they had me, I begin to understand a lot more than I did before. The three birth control pills I missed last month could have easily placed me in their position - could have easily reset the cycle that started twenty years ago . No, I do not consider them my equals, but can now understand where they were in their lives when I made my arrival.

I, like a lot of other people, was an accident. I knew this from extremely early on in my life. It made me sad for a spell, but I grew to understand that it was kind of just how things were.

The concept of love as I know it now, is new. I do not speak to my father, and my mother and I have had a complicated and sad relationship. 

"Love", along with hugs, bedtime stories, and kisses became obsolete very shortly into my childhood. I don't know how sad I am about this now, as it's what I have grown accustomed to. In fact it was weird to me, creepy even, when I would see people show affection to their parents. I did not understand, and I did not want to.

When I was 19 years old, I fell in love for the very first time. It was fast, and sweet, and everything I had ever wanted. Affection was suddenly all I knew. It was all I wanted, all I had been missing, and it was the only thing I ever wanted to feel again.

I cut my friends off. Stopped calling home; barely spoke to my roommate. I created a bubble, a whole world off of that feeling. I cried and cried, long before the heartache came, because I really couldn't believe. It didn't make sense that I would be allowed to feel this. For all the emptiness I felt my whole life, how was it suddenly fair to be loved so completely and wholly?

It was too good to be true. My family knew, my friends knew, and my subconscious knew. I dreamt every single one of his infidelities. My subconscious would not let up. It showed me what he was doing, each and every night. I would wake up crying, only to be soothed with the lies I so craved, then lulled back to sleep where my nightmares tried desperately to warn me.

After the awful, tumultuous end of that relationship, I was lost. The connections between my friends and I had never been so strained; some felt severed all together. I didn't know how to make them love me again. There was no one to fill that position anymore. I realized then more than ever that I had once again been tricked by the elusiveness of "love".

I did not feel it from my parents, ruined it with my friends, and  rot myself from the inside out trying to find it in romance. There was nothing left to do except flip that love inwards.

After a particularly horrid panic attack, I took $60.00 out of my rent money to get my nails done. My roommate invited me to her home in butt-fuck nowhere (Hamilton), and she gave me driving lessons in a Wal Mart parking lot. I made a stupid instagram of all the shitty things men said to me online to make my friends laugh (@PhoneCrust). I made a new best friend. I was moving.

It had been so long since I felt growth. That feeling trumped anything I had ever felt. I was shifting, I was creating. My friends were back, and I made new ones. Good ones.

I felt love, I felt support, I felt a little bit ok. 

I came to understand how the concept of love had been so very skewed in my mind.

I always knew that love, with the capital "L" was always based in romance. Is that not what we were always taught? Is that not why I poured over every Meg Cabot teen fiction novel? I would fall asleep to fantasies of just being near someone. 

But I did not know what love is. I had never been around it. My parents relationship would not have lasted the year (though they broke up anyway) had I not been born. They did not find it - still have not, and that makes me equal parts sad and intrigued.

Sex is sometimes a difficulty for me. I exude it, and I like it, but I have begun to develop an interesting relationship with it. Sex is not love; that I understand... But isn't it though? Remove romance from the forefront of your mind for a moment, and think about the elements of it: intimacy, vulnerability, escape, passion. Even without romance, those are the components of real love. Which is why it is a challenge for me. I have gotten so used to this new type of love with those closest to me, that it confuses me to be moved so emotionally, even though it is by physical means. I want to be comfortable once more with sex as a form of love, without equating it to romantic love. This is a struggle of mine.

I have found love in the spaces of my friends, and tenderness that lies underneath each of my relationships. I have come to find beauty in being able to love without possession. I want to remove all traces of romance behind my love. I want romance to come as a surprise. I want it to be born out of that deep, deep love I have for those closest to my soul. (T, Sarah, Suman, Syd, Chantal, Jonelle, Veesh, Conner). That love is born from purity, from luck, from God and from the universe giving me a fucking break.

My heart is broken, but it is full. And on most days, I can't even feel the cracks anymore.

I feel my soul shifting with every new endeavor I start. I feel the growth along my spine, and in my chest when I try to sleep.

I am working on understanding, and I am working on being patient with myself. I love love, and though it may be on different terms, that is one part of me that I will never let die.