Two video concepts because I've been consumed with doom scrolling on social media platforms.
First concept: A man on stage, mid tears, describing a time where his wife asked him why he loved her. And there were obvious reasons. To paraphrase heavily, he said loving her has always accented his past, present, and future. Feels as necessary as breathing and destined as fate that he also mentions is insanity. But makes sense.
Second concept: A stunning woman of color states (again paraphrasing) that in your late 20's early 30's you will get the urge to want to turn your life completely around and change and that you should listen to that urge.
I am struggling with figuring out what to break down first but to keep things interesting and massage my brain, I will start with the second.
I reposted her post and simply said: Intrigued [because] I did this at 23.
Blew my whole life up. Had a decent job, a partner with the bills, stable housing, more than one vehicle, a beginning to a school system for my child. Routine, routine, routine.
Only thing I wanted was my child. I decided to throw the rest away. Which is ample for me to try to understand now that I am genuinely out of that mentality. My healing has reached heights that I never thought the healing would.
My main question with this concept is do I have to do that again now that I am in my late 20's for real this time?
I don't think I do. I owe myself patience. Longevity in my professional career. Trust in my personal relationships. I need to loosen my grip on the doorknob.
She speaks of this feeling like it's a nagging sensation in your gut. I don't have that, so I guess her video is not applicable to me.
But I still value the advice. Accepting and bold. I love both words.
Believe people when they say that it's never too late to start over. I can tell myself that some frustration is okay. Especially when I have been communicating clearly with everyone in my life. And with myself, arguably the best part.
I want stability, mundane, safe, soundness. I have that. And deserve more of that. A douse of familiarity is cool too. Not too much though, because I do love some new. Just not everything needs to be new, something I need to stop getting used to.
Great segway into the first concept.
I understand what that man means when he says she's laced in everything. From growing up, friends coming and going, choosing adult career paths, accumulating hobbies. I feel that way about my offspring. My son has been all that I wished for. I thought about him running barefoot outside. Through my tangled hair. My juice mustaches. My play fights with my sisters. My first childhood crush. He was there when I was applying for college. And on that plane when I first moved out of my hometown. He was obviously there when I met his father.
Can that be the same for my person right now? My romantic person is what I mean. And I think that answer is a yes.
I have pretty unique circumstances, I won't say I am the only person to have gone through these things, and honestly, I hope not. That sounds painfully lonely. To reach the right audiences, I will paraphrase my past that makes me "stand" out.
Biracial woman who was raised by her "adopted" father, her father dead three days after she was born. Her mother, struggling with addiction, passing when she was 16. Her mother didn't tell her about her biological father until she was 12. Raised in a rural hometown, with no one who looked like me. Too brown, too fat. Bookworm. Writer. Neurodivergent (suspected ADHD and CPTSD but no diagnoses.) Past of sexual abuse that I won't begin to cover. Domestic violence changed her life at 10. Felt inclinations to have careers in public safety, spent two years studying such. Theater kid, underdog that never was casted for the roles that she deserved. Loves political science and astrology. Had a baby at 20 almost 21. Relearned Spanish when she was 19, now an intermediate speaker almost expert.
I have a lot of qualities about myself that part me from everyone that I communicate with on the daily.
However, I still deserve love.
What parts this partner from past partners, is that they listen to me! And didn't write me off the minute the parts that I hate about myself made guest experiences in our every day to day.
Speaking of social media again, I was presented with anxious attachment people and avoidant attachment people. Anxious attachment people receive more notoriety than avoidant does. Because anxious is still touch based, sex based, can be softened and toyed with until it's entertaining. Avoidant isn't cute regardless of the way you look at it.
I am avoidant.
I will push boundaries until they leave. I will say the most outrageous shit you will ever hear. I don't believe in secrets. Which is a scary sentence, considering there are many who will read that and believe that I broadcast people's business. I will have you know I am a retired chismosa (gossiper). Besides, my bullshit is enough to introduce to virtually anyone who looks like they're listening to me.
Especially don't assume I won't repeat what you said to me with incredulity. If you can speak to me with unwavering confidence when saying garbage, I will announce your garbage. Play in the street where it's safer (not an original sentence, but iconic nonetheless.)
My partner (who loves being referred to by anything besides boyfriend) I believe has been there the whole time too. He was a precursor in all of my past relationships and endeavors. Genuinely. Everything I have been waiting for lies between us and our lips.
Sappy. Which I am allowed to be.
He better not prove me wrong. Because my bisexual ass will refrain from partaking in anything that refers to themselves as a man ever again.
I will love you for your differences and similarities in every realm. Doing the same for me will not be a thankless journey. I promise you.
Pour love into your individuality.
This entry gives me the color of orange vibes. Maybe the summer coming (skipping over spring for my sanity) is influencing my thought process in this.
Eat an orange today.
Talk to you soon.
[Image Description: The first apartment alone with my child. Carpeted stairs, socked feet, laundry basket. All you see is the little feet at the top. At this time in my life, I was so angry with everything and everyone. And I have so much guilt for the way that I refused to feel and how I was just surviving. I was taking a picture of my child because they were pouting and I smiled for the first time in a while due to how funny their feet looked being isolated on the stairs. For being so small, the emotions were huge. I hold so much space for his emotions now. To love this deeply has been my greatest accomplishment in this life.]