Tag Archives: love

Stop Telling Me I’ll Find Someone

Everyone has their own post breakup rules.

Some people remove all trace of the relationship, some people need to be surrounded by friends, others have to binge on chocolate alone while watching terribly written sappy movies to give them hope that this is not the end of…whatever it is they’re scared of it being the end of.

Mine is simple.

Stop telling me I’ll find someone.

I know this sentiment is made with the best of intentions, but I find it an incredibly toxic response. First, you don’t know the exact circumstances in which someone ended their relationship–but most importantly, you’re projecting something onto a scenario that can only cause problems.

“You’ll find someone” tells the recipient of this sentiment that they’ve lost something. That they are now “without”.

I feel like we put too much pressure on the concept of soulmates. Of finding “that one person”.

To even remotely buy into this idea, I would have to accept that “true love” is something only afforded once to a person, and in my experience, love is a delightfully common thing.

Why can we only celebrate or truly value something because it’s rare?

I have been in love at least twice in my life–three times, quite possibly. And those romantic entanglements are vastly overshadowed by the great love I have and receive from my friends and family.

It’s overwhelming and wonderful and far too understated.

Look, it’s possible there will be another romantic what not in my future–it’s also possible there won’t be, and the best part about this question is it truly does not matter either way.

I’m complete on my own. It took me a while to find all the pieces as they weren’t neatly packaged together from birth–but I have them. And I’m fine. I’m awesome. I’ll have days of sadness, I’ll be hurt, I’ll be angry or even maybe a little bitter. I can even toss and turn over things that were or weren’t said or done in that relationship.

But that’s being real. That’s being human. You have those moments regardless what kind of role that someone played in your life.

Another person cannot complete you, and they are not a necessary part of your story. You haven’t failed because you had a break up, and you won’t be failing if you don’t find another person you want to share that kind of relationship with.

I think we perpetuate a dangerous mindset when we sing so many songs about not being able to go on without another person.

I’ve lost people to far more terrible things than break ups. I’ve said goodbye for the last time in this life to so so many loved ones–a pain, frankly, that far outweighs the realization that someone doesn’t love you how you thought.

And yet, I’m here. I’m still breathing. My heart’s still beating. I’m still able to keep going.

want to still keep going.

This line of thinking, I suppose, is also completely separate from the actual context of the break up.

I left an emotionally abusive relationship that had been draining my life bit by bit for nearly three years. Yes, there were happy moments, yes there were times where I had a plan for the future…

But it wasn’t healthy.

And telling me not to worry because one day “I’ll find someone” when I’m “ready” completely negates the really remarkable point of all of this.

did find someone.

I found me.

Returning to Stardust

Today I felt myself again. Today I wandered through unfamiliar streets with no real purpose or direction. Today I held my head up and smiled at strangers.

Today I noticed the little things. An unexplained purple-paint hand print on an otherwise bare concrete wall, the way my shoes sounded a little bit like horse hooves when I click them on the pavement just right, and that particular smell of fresh cut wood and burning metal indicative of construction sites.

Today I didn’t feel drained or scared. Today I felt curious and hopeful.

Today I felt like stardust.

I talk a lot about mental health. Depression is something that has plagued people I love for as long as I can remember. My father, my sister, and my brother, who we lost to suicide in 2013. It has been a hard and painful road, watching them struggle with their own versions of a unrelenting disease. On some level, I was grateful for this intimate insight, because it meant I would be a strong ally to my friends who dealt with similar struggles.

What I did not expect is that understanding and experience could be used against me.

There is a fine line between aiding and enabling. And it’s never easy to see when you’ve crossed it. Usually when you do realize, you find yourself miles away from it.

A few days ago I realized I had spent nearly two years nurturing an unhealthy relationship because I was still trying to save my brother. There were so many red flags. At more than one point this person had threatened me with self-harm, and I had ignored it. There was a continued pattern of disrespect, and I ignored it. I had become a financial and emotional crutch with no effort to ever relieve me of this burden, even after over a year. I ignored this.

And my reasoning behind this was maybe, just maybe, if I tried hard enough, if I sacrificed just a little bit more of myself… I could save someone. I could save someone where I had failed to save my brother, and at the time it didn’t matter if that meant killing myself in the process.

The mental health we don’t often talk about is you can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved, and if you try, it will destroy you piece by piece. Because that person wants to control you. Because that person has been controlling you.

So I finally left. It hurt, and my mind screamed against me that I was cruel and making a mistake. I felt guilty for days. I felt like I had gone back on everything I’d promised in being an ally for mental health.

My friends were kind and supportive. They let me talk and talked me through what happened. I admitted to things I’d been too ashamed to talk about in regards to this toxic relationship. And then I no longer felt guilty, I felt incredibly foolish.

Then a dear friend offered to take me with her to Chicago on a work trip. And I spent time alone, and in doing so, I found someone I hadn’t seen in a very long time.

Me.

Today, I truly let go.

Today, I forgave myself for loving me.

Hate Is Not Welcome In My Home

It’s been an interesting past few days on social media since the Orlando shooting. I’ve seen people defending the civilian right to semi-automatic weapons over the safety of human lives, and I’ve seen the identities of bigots protected and blurred as news articles report on people applauding the shooter for his chosen targets.
Thankfully, I have also seen great love. People holding vigils, banding together, donating blood. And it light of both this dichotomy, I felt I need to make something very clear about who I am and the community I am fostering as an artist.
For the past few years I’ve been in a monogamous loving relationship with a cis-het man. Because of this, I’m often mistaken for being straight/heterosexual.
 
I’m not. I’m pan. What this means is my romantic attraction to a partner is not gender related or specific. My partners have identified as male, female, queer and trans.
 
I call The Doctor my “partner” or my “companion” rather than “my boyfriend” for multiple reasons, but this is one of them. It helps me feel that even though on the outside I appear heteronormative, I retain my actual identity.
 
If I was straight, my community would still be a safe space for my LGBTQA family, and homophobia or transphobia of any kind would not be tolerated.
But I feel it’s important to let you know this is my tribe. My family. And the vitriol you spew at them is aimed at me as well. This will probably make me enemies rather than change someone’s mind, but it needed to be said. We’re building a safe community, a community founded on open minds and curiosity. This community is my home, and hate of any kind is not welcome here.

Isn’t That The Way Love Goes? / Almost Lover

Writing, it’s this thing I do–this thing I will be doing a lot more of in the next coming weeks. However, I wanted to share a tidbit of something that I wrote a little bit ago in response to one of Nika’s writing prompts. (If you have never checked out her in Word Play, you should hop to that… like now).

The assignment, as it were, was to write a dialogue heavy scene and out of the given prompts I chose, “Why you just don’t GET it.”I’m not sure if the actual words were meant to go in there, I worked off of the feeling/impression that sentence gave me and came up with the scene you can read below.

And then last night I recorded a song to go along with it. I’ve mentioned before that I like to put soundtracks to everything… and I would like to start trying to marry my singing to my writing more… so here we go: