Big things are in the works for me. I found out a couple weeks ago that I got a new job that I had been dying to get. Seriously - a rare, doesn't-come-too-often, awesome, exciting job! I know I'm a hard worker in general, but this was something I worked even harder for, and the fact that it paid off just about makes this one of my most prized accomplishments to date.
I hadn't been actively looking to change jobs. My current one was working out fine, and I just love my co-workers there. The 3-mile commute was grand, and getting off at 4:30 every day made life pretty breezy.
And therein lies the rub.
I don't want to always take the easy route. I don't want everything to just slide on by to the point where I'm barely using my brain anymore. This hit me big time about a month ago when I was invited to a BBQ/trivia party. I don't think I knew the answer to more than 3 questions the whole night. It got me thinking - am I getting dumber?
I've noticed for awhile that I needed a challenge. Half of the reason I've taken on new hobbies and volunteer opportunities is because I felt the need to be more dedicated to things. I was going to work, coming home and not even giving work a second thought. That disconnect is what led me to pursue this new opportunity.
Many weeks ago, I saw that Big PR Agency Downtown was hiring a mid-level executive. This was the same agency I'd interned for in San Francisco, so I thought that maybe that would be my "in." I applied for it and got a call for a short phone interview the following week. The minute I started talking with the HR person, I knew this job was amazing. The clients are mainly food and wine, and the job requires some travel to places like Miami, New Orleans, Boston, Seattle. I immediately was bound and determined to get this job.
Thankfully, I was asked to come into the office for a full-on interview. So I updated my portfolio and got some writing samples together. I remembered all of the basic techniques of a job interview, and having helped interview many people for work, I knew that it was going to take more than a clean portfolio and decent writing sample to get me to stand out. Everyone knows to do that stuff, but not everyone goes above and beyond what is asked of them.
So I whipped out my creative side and drafted a pretend food-related blog post for their company blog (something they are very well known for). It was rather cheesy, I'll admit, but I wanted to showcase my writing skills, food knowledge (beyond just "I like it") and creativity.
That interview went so great. I equivocate it to an awesome first date - you feel comfortable, at ease and like this is where you belong. It sparked this new desire in me that I hadn't experienced since college - that whole "the world is my oyster" kind of passion that drives me to go after what I want rather than just going through my days with a perfunctory approach.
And like that date that goes so well, eventually major insecurity ensues. "What if they don't like me? What if the chemistry was just my imagination?" I even found about.....get ready for it.....another woman! Through some sleuthing skills, I discovered a girl whom I assumed was going for the position as well. After reading her credentials on LinkedIn, my heart sank. This girl seemed perfect for the job.
I hate to admit that this actually led to me shedding tears, but since we all know this story has a happy ending, I can throw that in there for drama. I was so disappointed that I'd gotten my hopes up, and here this perfect person was going to take it all away from me, even though I just knew I could do that job.
Thankfully, I put to good use another invaluable skill in the PR world - utilizing who you know. I contacted a girl I knew from the SF office, and she got in touch with a girl who worked with her but had recently transferred from Sac. She was able to do a little recon for me, which I feel like is the whole reason I got this job - she discovered I was still in the running, but if I had any more proof of my food and wine skills, I'd better demonstrate it.
That refueled my fire, and I got to work right away, drafting an email to all those who'd interviewed me. I wanted to provide supplemental information, particularly because a 1-page resume and quick interview can't fully demonstrate what I'm capable of. I highlighted my relevant skills and did so in a catchy, gimicky way.
It worked.
I was offered the job a week later. When I was first offered, I don't think it sunk in. I had been so prepared to make my rejection speech, it totally caught me off guard when they told me they wanted me!
So there it is - my exciting news about how I'm movin' on up in the PR world! My passion, drive and excitement has been re-ignited. I'm no longer on autopilot, and I'm ready to put in the time and elbow grease.
Some girls fantasize about snagging their dream man. I fantasized about snagging my dream career, and I think it's safe to say that this little PR lady will be living happily ever after.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Thursday, June 2, 2011
No, I'm Not Down with O.P.P.
I'm having some boyfriend problems. No, not with my non-existent boyfriend - rather, with other people's boyfriends. I consistently find myself seriously annoyed at the choices people in my life make regarding significant others.
"But Tracy," you say, "isn't that their business and not yours?"
You're right. It is. But I can't HELP it! I want to scream at some people!
"But Tracy," you say, "aren't you being kind of a Judge Judy right now?"
Yes. Don't you think I'd love to be Supportive Susan? But unfortunately, I'm cursed with actually giving a shit about my friends. Why is it so hard for smart, confident, successful women to date guys on that same level? Why do so many women date men who mistreat them, have zero goals or who haven't been giving them what they want?
Oh, that's riiiiiight. That pesky little think called love. That's what people always say when they try to justify being with shitty people. As someone who's worked in domestic violence prevention for years now, I can tell you the #1 reason women stay with their abusers - because the women love them.
It's the same mentality for women staying with men who aren't abusive, necessarily, but just unhealthy for them in general. People think just because you have these overwhelming feelings that you need to "follow your heart." That is one of the most misused sayings in the world. How about following our heads? You know, our brains?? Or if that's not working correctly, why not listen to that little voice a.k.a. gut feeling? You're all familiar with that one - it's that annoying little bastard that we push away and try so hard to fight against......only to realize in the end that the little shit was right.
Newsflash - love does NOT conquer all! It's an emotion, and emotions can't be the sole reason we make decisions. Emotions ebb and flow; they change. They evolve. They dissolve. It's a very unromantic way of looking at things, but hey, if being realistic means I'm able to get my head out of my ass and not date an asshole, then pragmatism here I come.
I know I'm waaaay up on my sassy horse right now, and I need to just focus on my own life. But I can't describe how difficult it is when you see people settling for less than they deserve. I know people who are with guys who've had affairs, guys who've physically abused them, guys who've lied, guys who've called them every horrible name under the sun, guys who are married (to someone else). Where do we draw the line? When do we start holding these guys accountable for what they've done?
Being forgiving is important. I understand that. I do believe in forgiveness - but I feel like so many times, people are quick to forgive out of the fear of being alone.
Being miserable with someone always appears easier than being miserable alone. Trust me, I understand that concept more than anyone. I've been on the other side. When I would go back with guys that hurt me, it was a quick Band-Aid for the pain I was feeling. You get back together/make up/try to forget the past, and for a moment in time, you're "happy." All seems right in the world.
I thought that meant that being with him was what made me happy and "all better." But everytime I went back, the relationship would deteriorate and slowly erode more and more. It was never the same or as good as it was before. That "make-up" phase was just smoke and mirrors - a distraction from the actual underlying problem.
Now that I'm on the other side of it, I can safely say that being alone is not easy emotionally - at first. But as time goes on, and as I've gotten space from my past, it's been the best part of my young adult life yet. I see clearer now than I ever have. I don't have my head in the clouds or my heart wound up in messy feelings. I'm stronger and more confident than I ever have been. And it was the distance from these bad guys in my life that made me see everything for what it was. Not a week away, not a month. More like years. It's been 2 years since I've been someone's girlfriend, and while I've dated and had guys in my life since then, I've had the most amazing emotional growth spurt.
This growth has allowed me to see what I deserve from a significant other. It doesn't mean I expect perfection because, honestly, I'm not perfect myself (who is, anyway?). It just means that I recognize that there are 7 billion people in this world, roughly half of them the gender I would most likely date (OK, maybe throw my girl crush Lady Gaga in there). I realized that with all of those options out there (maybe not 3.5 billion, but even if that number was 1,000, that's still an immense amount), I don't have to settle on the next guy that makes my stomach go pitter-patter.
No one is the "love of your life" or "the one" (except that John Krasinski from "The Office" is mine, but that's just a given). We have plenty of options, and while we may eventually tie down to one person once we're married, our 20s and young adult life don't need to take a page from "The Notebook." Calm yourselves, people. Falling in love doesn't mean you've found the Holy Grail and therefore no longer need to use your brain. We have the ability to fall in love again and again and again....and the longer you stay with someone who doesn't fulfill you, the less time you'll have with someone who will.
We can all afford to be more selective. Who knows? Maybe if we were all more selective, the shitty people wouldn't keep getting free rides. The bar would be raised, so we'd actually have a larger pool of eligible bachelors.
So, ladies, let's try this on for size - if love really does conquer all, why don't we start making decisions based on the love we have for ourselves? Don't keep letting crappy males get away with being crappy. Have some standards, and for God's sake, stop this whole "love" business from making you all miserable! It doesn't have to be so hard.
*Climbs off soap box*
"But Tracy," you say, "isn't that their business and not yours?"
You're right. It is. But I can't HELP it! I want to scream at some people!
"But Tracy," you say, "aren't you being kind of a Judge Judy right now?"
Yes. Don't you think I'd love to be Supportive Susan? But unfortunately, I'm cursed with actually giving a shit about my friends. Why is it so hard for smart, confident, successful women to date guys on that same level? Why do so many women date men who mistreat them, have zero goals or who haven't been giving them what they want?
Oh, that's riiiiiight. That pesky little think called love. That's what people always say when they try to justify being with shitty people. As someone who's worked in domestic violence prevention for years now, I can tell you the #1 reason women stay with their abusers - because the women love them.
It's the same mentality for women staying with men who aren't abusive, necessarily, but just unhealthy for them in general. People think just because you have these overwhelming feelings that you need to "follow your heart." That is one of the most misused sayings in the world. How about following our heads? You know, our brains?? Or if that's not working correctly, why not listen to that little voice a.k.a. gut feeling? You're all familiar with that one - it's that annoying little bastard that we push away and try so hard to fight against......only to realize in the end that the little shit was right.
Newsflash - love does NOT conquer all! It's an emotion, and emotions can't be the sole reason we make decisions. Emotions ebb and flow; they change. They evolve. They dissolve. It's a very unromantic way of looking at things, but hey, if being realistic means I'm able to get my head out of my ass and not date an asshole, then pragmatism here I come.
I know I'm waaaay up on my sassy horse right now, and I need to just focus on my own life. But I can't describe how difficult it is when you see people settling for less than they deserve. I know people who are with guys who've had affairs, guys who've physically abused them, guys who've lied, guys who've called them every horrible name under the sun, guys who are married (to someone else). Where do we draw the line? When do we start holding these guys accountable for what they've done?
Being forgiving is important. I understand that. I do believe in forgiveness - but I feel like so many times, people are quick to forgive out of the fear of being alone.
Being miserable with someone always appears easier than being miserable alone. Trust me, I understand that concept more than anyone. I've been on the other side. When I would go back with guys that hurt me, it was a quick Band-Aid for the pain I was feeling. You get back together/make up/try to forget the past, and for a moment in time, you're "happy." All seems right in the world.
I thought that meant that being with him was what made me happy and "all better." But everytime I went back, the relationship would deteriorate and slowly erode more and more. It was never the same or as good as it was before. That "make-up" phase was just smoke and mirrors - a distraction from the actual underlying problem.
Now that I'm on the other side of it, I can safely say that being alone is not easy emotionally - at first. But as time goes on, and as I've gotten space from my past, it's been the best part of my young adult life yet. I see clearer now than I ever have. I don't have my head in the clouds or my heart wound up in messy feelings. I'm stronger and more confident than I ever have been. And it was the distance from these bad guys in my life that made me see everything for what it was. Not a week away, not a month. More like years. It's been 2 years since I've been someone's girlfriend, and while I've dated and had guys in my life since then, I've had the most amazing emotional growth spurt.
This growth has allowed me to see what I deserve from a significant other. It doesn't mean I expect perfection because, honestly, I'm not perfect myself (who is, anyway?). It just means that I recognize that there are 7 billion people in this world, roughly half of them the gender I would most likely date (OK, maybe throw my girl crush Lady Gaga in there). I realized that with all of those options out there (maybe not 3.5 billion, but even if that number was 1,000, that's still an immense amount), I don't have to settle on the next guy that makes my stomach go pitter-patter.
No one is the "love of your life" or "the one" (except that John Krasinski from "The Office" is mine, but that's just a given). We have plenty of options, and while we may eventually tie down to one person once we're married, our 20s and young adult life don't need to take a page from "The Notebook." Calm yourselves, people. Falling in love doesn't mean you've found the Holy Grail and therefore no longer need to use your brain. We have the ability to fall in love again and again and again....and the longer you stay with someone who doesn't fulfill you, the less time you'll have with someone who will.
We can all afford to be more selective. Who knows? Maybe if we were all more selective, the shitty people wouldn't keep getting free rides. The bar would be raised, so we'd actually have a larger pool of eligible bachelors.
So, ladies, let's try this on for size - if love really does conquer all, why don't we start making decisions based on the love we have for ourselves? Don't keep letting crappy males get away with being crappy. Have some standards, and for God's sake, stop this whole "love" business from making you all miserable! It doesn't have to be so hard.
*Climbs off soap box*
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Youth vs. Adulthood: Which One Wins?
There's that famous saying that goes: "Youth is wasted on the young." Generally, this is said by a crotchety old man as he observes care-free young people who are probably speeding past him on the road or running amok in the aisles of department stores.
To me, this saying gets me thinking about happiness - are young people happier than adults and just don't realize it? Is that whole "ignorance is bliss" saying true?
I was pondering this today while in the bathroom (yes, I philosophize while on the john). It got me thinking about my childhood and happiness (two of the topics that frequently cross my mind). Was I happier as a child than I am now?
My guess is that it all depends on what "happiness" means. Happiness could be making a living. That would mean my adult life is happier. Happiness could also mean having little responsibility. That would mean childhood wins.
In true, Type-A personality fashion, I'll just make a couple lists.
Childhood Happiness
To me, this saying gets me thinking about happiness - are young people happier than adults and just don't realize it? Is that whole "ignorance is bliss" saying true?
I was pondering this today while in the bathroom (yes, I philosophize while on the john). It got me thinking about my childhood and happiness (two of the topics that frequently cross my mind). Was I happier as a child than I am now?
My guess is that it all depends on what "happiness" means. Happiness could be making a living. That would mean my adult life is happier. Happiness could also mean having little responsibility. That would mean childhood wins.
In true, Type-A personality fashion, I'll just make a couple lists.
Childhood Happiness
- I could read two books at a time and finish within a few days. Now, I get automated phone calls telling me my library books are overdue, and I've barely gotten through the first half of a great novel.
- My key responsibilities included 6 hours of school and maybe an hour of homework on average, depending on what grade I was in. Without having to cook, clean or tend to my iPhone, I could spend hours doing whatever I wanted - playing in my playhouse my dad built, riding bikes, watching copious amounts of "Full House." Come 3 p.m., the world was my oyster.
- Meeting new people didn't require me to put on my game face and act interested in conversation. As a kid, you're generally ignored by adults, so you can go on with your own business and the things that matter to you. You're allowed to be quiet and self-absorbed. As an adult, this makes you an asshole.
- The whole world was ahead of me. I could make outlandish statements about how I was going to be an actress on "Dawson's Creek" and write for Rolling Stone. Nowadays, your goals have to be concrete. Attainable. Realistic. Otherwise, you just make Charlie Sheen sound normal.
- I could eat the hell out of a Happy Meal and later run around our backyard in my two-piece swimsuit, feeling nothing but glee. I had yet to be introduced to bad food reactions requiring Pepto Bismal, acid reflux, the slowing of my metabolism and negative body issues.
- One of my main concerns as a kid was having a boyfriend. That was all I thought about, day and night. I would kiss my Cabbage Patch doll (it was a boy doll, Dad. No worries) and pretend it was my future husband. Thank God I can now focus my attention on other things. And thank God I can actually kiss real boys now.
- Sure I almost hyperventilate when my rent is due because I'm so sad to see such a huge chunk of my hard-earned money going away at the click of a button - but at the same time, I always feel some amount of pride when I successfully pay a bill. I'm doing it - living life on my own in my own apartment, just as I told my dad I would at 8 years old.
- I begged my mom incessantly to buy me a life-sized version of the dress my American Girls doll wore (it was a floral, 1770s gown with petticoats - the ultimate attire for a 5th grader). I remember telling her, "It's only $80, and you make so much money, Mommy!" My mom calmly explained to me that just because she makes money, doesn't mean she doesn't have other things to pay for that are more important than a dress - electricity bills, a mortgage, Dad's Dreyer's ice cream habit. Nowadays, I can buy myself any colonial garb I please! It's my money, and I'm lucky that I'm able to buy fun things for myself every once in awhile.
- Not that I'm a wild woman, but I do feel a sort of satisfaction when I stay out on a Friday night until 2 a.m. and come home guilt-free. It's not so much that I love to party - more that I'm so incredibly lucky to be independent.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
On Call, On Edge
Last night was my first 12-hour shift of being on call as a sexual assault response advocate. It started at 6 p.m. and lasted until 6 a.m. Thankfully, I'm not expected to stay awake that whole time (just keep my phone by my side). I didn't get called out (whew!) but it wasn't the most restful of sleeps.
I woke up every couple hours, checking the clock. 1:12 a.m. 3:37 a.m. 5:15 a.m. Finally I looked up and saw it was 6:50. No calls! Now was my time to relax, but I was already awake, so I figured I'd get up and start my day. Being on call sure made my heart race - I had a heightened awareness and was going over every scenario in my head.
It reminded me of when we had to take home the electronic "Baby Think It Over" in 9th grade. My friend Christina and I thought it was kind of cool because we got first pick of which babies we wanted (she opted for the white girl. Me? The Asian. I promptly named her Buttercup). Clearly this was not supposed to be fun - we were supposed to learn a valuable lesson about having a baby as a teenager. The little creepy dolls would cry randomly and you were supposed to tend to their needs - diaper change, feeding, rocking, etc. It had a chip in it to keep track if you neglected it or even abused it. So - my point - I barely slept that night because I was so worried about Buttercup going off. She did, just once. Not very realistic if you ask me, but that heightened sense of worry is a good lesson in itself. I'm sure once you're a parent, that never fully goes away.
Anyhoo, I'm rambling. Back to being on call. This is a volunteer endeavor for me, and I'm really excited about it. Basically, if you get called out, you meet the victim/survivor at the hospital and help him/her through the police questioning and evidentiary exam. It's a 4-6 hour process, and it's our job as advocates to make sure the client is being treated fairly, is as comfortable as possible, knows about counseling and victim witness services offered, and see to it that they aren't more traumatized than they already are. It's a pretty daunting task, but from what other volunteers have told me, it's also incredibly rewarding. I'm on call the next couple Fridays, so we'll see if I get called out.
In other news, this weekend is Mother's Day! We're having a big get-together at my grandma's, so I'm looking forward to that. I've already gotten a lot done this weekend, and it's not even noon. I went to the gym this morning to a class that kicks my ass every time. But it's my way of making up for all of the eating I'll be doing this weekend! My parents and sister are coming to town tonight - whoop whoop! Always a good time with those fools.
Other than that, not much is going on. I'm looking forward to a relaxing weekend with the people I love - it doesn't get much better than that.
I woke up every couple hours, checking the clock. 1:12 a.m. 3:37 a.m. 5:15 a.m. Finally I looked up and saw it was 6:50. No calls! Now was my time to relax, but I was already awake, so I figured I'd get up and start my day. Being on call sure made my heart race - I had a heightened awareness and was going over every scenario in my head.
It reminded me of when we had to take home the electronic "Baby Think It Over" in 9th grade. My friend Christina and I thought it was kind of cool because we got first pick of which babies we wanted (she opted for the white girl. Me? The Asian. I promptly named her Buttercup). Clearly this was not supposed to be fun - we were supposed to learn a valuable lesson about having a baby as a teenager. The little creepy dolls would cry randomly and you were supposed to tend to their needs - diaper change, feeding, rocking, etc. It had a chip in it to keep track if you neglected it or even abused it. So - my point - I barely slept that night because I was so worried about Buttercup going off. She did, just once. Not very realistic if you ask me, but that heightened sense of worry is a good lesson in itself. I'm sure once you're a parent, that never fully goes away.
Anyhoo, I'm rambling. Back to being on call. This is a volunteer endeavor for me, and I'm really excited about it. Basically, if you get called out, you meet the victim/survivor at the hospital and help him/her through the police questioning and evidentiary exam. It's a 4-6 hour process, and it's our job as advocates to make sure the client is being treated fairly, is as comfortable as possible, knows about counseling and victim witness services offered, and see to it that they aren't more traumatized than they already are. It's a pretty daunting task, but from what other volunteers have told me, it's also incredibly rewarding. I'm on call the next couple Fridays, so we'll see if I get called out.
In other news, this weekend is Mother's Day! We're having a big get-together at my grandma's, so I'm looking forward to that. I've already gotten a lot done this weekend, and it's not even noon. I went to the gym this morning to a class that kicks my ass every time. But it's my way of making up for all of the eating I'll be doing this weekend! My parents and sister are coming to town tonight - whoop whoop! Always a good time with those fools.
Other than that, not much is going on. I'm looking forward to a relaxing weekend with the people I love - it doesn't get much better than that.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
It's Osama's Death, and I'll Celebrate If I Want To
I’m not a violent person by any means. I’ve never been one for revenge either – that whole “eye for an eye” thing is just not how I roll. I don’t believe in the death penalty for that reason – injecting someone and killing them quickly and painlessly is not justice to me. It’s the easy way out.
That said, I’m still a little perturbed that celebrating the death of Osama bin Laden is being frowned upon by some people – that it somehow means we are stooping to the level of terrorists in rejoicing in violence and death.
But here is the vast difference between anti-American terrorists and us: we are relieved and overjoyed that an enemy is dead, not civilians. And it’s my belief that his death itself is not the core reason of our joy – it’s the symbolism behind it. Bin Laden represented pure hatred and evil, and killing him is a key climactic event in the tragedy this country (and the whole world) experienced on September 11, 2001.
I wasn’t alive back in the World War II days, but I’m pretty sure we weren’t afraid to celebrate the death of Hitler. And while Osama bin Laden never had the destructive reach of that psycho, he’s still the devil in human form just as Hitler was, in my eyes.
So for these reasons, I celebrate bin Laden’s death. I rejoice in his demise. I am happy he is no longer here, and I most definitely relish the fact that he’s burning in hell right now. I’m proud of our troops and what they’ve been fighting toward for the past 10 years. I’m proud to be an American, so damn it, I’m going to shout “USA! USA!” at that bastard’s death all I want!
On that same token, people are also calling into question the decency of his burial – that it somehow was offensive to give the cowardly asshole an Islamic burial at sea. I may celebrate his death, but I’m not against disposing of him in a respectful-to-his-culture manner. Not doing so is an affront to the Muslim community, not him.
And how else would we have gotten rid of him? Burned him to pieces? Desecrated his body? Umm, does no one remember Abu Gharib? What a shameful time in our military’s history. We are better than that, and we got rid of the remains of bin Laden – the evil soul of the guy was already dead and gone.
Just my 2 cents!
That said, I’m still a little perturbed that celebrating the death of Osama bin Laden is being frowned upon by some people – that it somehow means we are stooping to the level of terrorists in rejoicing in violence and death.
But here is the vast difference between anti-American terrorists and us: we are relieved and overjoyed that an enemy is dead, not civilians. And it’s my belief that his death itself is not the core reason of our joy – it’s the symbolism behind it. Bin Laden represented pure hatred and evil, and killing him is a key climactic event in the tragedy this country (and the whole world) experienced on September 11, 2001.
I wasn’t alive back in the World War II days, but I’m pretty sure we weren’t afraid to celebrate the death of Hitler. And while Osama bin Laden never had the destructive reach of that psycho, he’s still the devil in human form just as Hitler was, in my eyes.
So for these reasons, I celebrate bin Laden’s death. I rejoice in his demise. I am happy he is no longer here, and I most definitely relish the fact that he’s burning in hell right now. I’m proud of our troops and what they’ve been fighting toward for the past 10 years. I’m proud to be an American, so damn it, I’m going to shout “USA! USA!” at that bastard’s death all I want!
On that same token, people are also calling into question the decency of his burial – that it somehow was offensive to give the cowardly asshole an Islamic burial at sea. I may celebrate his death, but I’m not against disposing of him in a respectful-to-his-culture manner. Not doing so is an affront to the Muslim community, not him.
And how else would we have gotten rid of him? Burned him to pieces? Desecrated his body? Umm, does no one remember Abu Gharib? What a shameful time in our military’s history. We are better than that, and we got rid of the remains of bin Laden – the evil soul of the guy was already dead and gone.
Just my 2 cents!
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Do We Need Closure?
Over yummy burgers and brew with a girlfriend of mine this week (OK, you caught me - a sandwich and water for me!), we talked about reconnecting with ex-boyfriends. She'd recently gone to dinner with one of hers after not seeing him for several years, and given that she's married, this wasn't any sort of rekindling extravaganza.
Funny that she should bring this up because one of my exes reached out to me recently, saying he may be in town this weekend and would love to take me to lunch. I haven't seen his black ass in 3-1/2 years (before you think I'm racist, keep in mind I'm using that as an expression. This dude is as white as they come...although he does have gangsta qualities).
Basically, our saga was that we dated in college on and off, and after I graduated, I tried getting back together with him - even going so far as to express my undying love in a letter - only to be ignored and eventually made aware of his new relationship via MySpace. Cue the ensuing months of dark depression - bouts of crying, listening to sad songs constantly, feeling inconsolable, not wanting to get out of bed. It was a dark time for me, and I lived through all of it again when I recently re-read my journal from that era. I was quite pathetic, and I'm happy to report that I'll never be like that again.
No guy is worth that - especially not this guy! I'd forgotten (or maybe just suppressed) all of the horrible things he said to me. He told me he would never miss me and that I'd probably miss him more. At one point, he told me I was dirty and easy (umm, what?!?) and he made frequent criticisms of my hair and appearance. Oh, not to mention all of the lies he told me throughout the course of our relationship, like his hidden marijuana habit and fake hook ups with other girls that he'd masterminded in order to make me jealous. Oh, and how can I forget that he read my private journal - twice! Real gem and a half.
My friend that met up with her ex said she felt great about it - she was able to get a lot off of her chest, and he even apologized to her for some of the things he'd done. She said it felt like great closure.
So that got me thinking about my ex - is there any closure there that I need?
I realized that no, there are no loose ends there that need tying up. I don't walk around carrying bitterness (because truly - who does that benefit?), but just because all of that stuff happened years ago when we were younger, I don't forget. He's still with that girl he left me for, and while that's great for him, I'm not going to put on some show just to prove how "over it" I am. Being over it to me means that I'm indifferent to him - I don't need to figure anything out with him because all that was needed to figure out was, well, me.
I figured out how to recognize when someone is bad for you. While I don't think he's a bad person, I do believe he wasn't right for me in too many ways to make the relationship worth it. There wasn't even a strong enough foundation there for me to even try to test out a friendship with him. He served his purpose in my life, and now that ship has sailed. It's in the past and no dredging up of old stuff is ever going to benefit me.
So needless to say, I'm not meeting up with him, as tempting as it is, given how great I'm doing! There is that immature part of me that wants to flaunt around how awesome I am, but there's simply no point. I'm sure he knows that I'm a good person and recognizes what he did to me, otherwise he wouldn't be trying to be buddy-buddy with me. My friend asked me if I'd ever want him to apologize to me. You know what? I really don't think I need that. I don't care if he's sorry or not. I've moved on with my life, and I don't need past heartbreak to rock that boat.
So here's to gaining closure on my own! It's such a remarkable feeling, and I'm proud of myself for how far I've come. Honestly, if it weren't for my ex, I might have been just as inconsolable over the next breakup I had with someone. But my skin was thick enough to where I didn't really cry or lament that loss too much. I picked myself up off the ground and closed the door myself!
Funny that she should bring this up because one of my exes reached out to me recently, saying he may be in town this weekend and would love to take me to lunch. I haven't seen his black ass in 3-1/2 years (before you think I'm racist, keep in mind I'm using that as an expression. This dude is as white as they come...although he does have gangsta qualities).
Basically, our saga was that we dated in college on and off, and after I graduated, I tried getting back together with him - even going so far as to express my undying love in a letter - only to be ignored and eventually made aware of his new relationship via MySpace. Cue the ensuing months of dark depression - bouts of crying, listening to sad songs constantly, feeling inconsolable, not wanting to get out of bed. It was a dark time for me, and I lived through all of it again when I recently re-read my journal from that era. I was quite pathetic, and I'm happy to report that I'll never be like that again.
No guy is worth that - especially not this guy! I'd forgotten (or maybe just suppressed) all of the horrible things he said to me. He told me he would never miss me and that I'd probably miss him more. At one point, he told me I was dirty and easy (umm, what?!?) and he made frequent criticisms of my hair and appearance. Oh, not to mention all of the lies he told me throughout the course of our relationship, like his hidden marijuana habit and fake hook ups with other girls that he'd masterminded in order to make me jealous. Oh, and how can I forget that he read my private journal - twice! Real gem and a half.
My friend that met up with her ex said she felt great about it - she was able to get a lot off of her chest, and he even apologized to her for some of the things he'd done. She said it felt like great closure.
So that got me thinking about my ex - is there any closure there that I need?
I realized that no, there are no loose ends there that need tying up. I don't walk around carrying bitterness (because truly - who does that benefit?), but just because all of that stuff happened years ago when we were younger, I don't forget. He's still with that girl he left me for, and while that's great for him, I'm not going to put on some show just to prove how "over it" I am. Being over it to me means that I'm indifferent to him - I don't need to figure anything out with him because all that was needed to figure out was, well, me.
I figured out how to recognize when someone is bad for you. While I don't think he's a bad person, I do believe he wasn't right for me in too many ways to make the relationship worth it. There wasn't even a strong enough foundation there for me to even try to test out a friendship with him. He served his purpose in my life, and now that ship has sailed. It's in the past and no dredging up of old stuff is ever going to benefit me.
So needless to say, I'm not meeting up with him, as tempting as it is, given how great I'm doing! There is that immature part of me that wants to flaunt around how awesome I am, but there's simply no point. I'm sure he knows that I'm a good person and recognizes what he did to me, otherwise he wouldn't be trying to be buddy-buddy with me. My friend asked me if I'd ever want him to apologize to me. You know what? I really don't think I need that. I don't care if he's sorry or not. I've moved on with my life, and I don't need past heartbreak to rock that boat.
So here's to gaining closure on my own! It's such a remarkable feeling, and I'm proud of myself for how far I've come. Honestly, if it weren't for my ex, I might have been just as inconsolable over the next breakup I had with someone. But my skin was thick enough to where I didn't really cry or lament that loss too much. I picked myself up off the ground and closed the door myself!
Friday, April 22, 2011
Comfort vs. Chaos
One of my 3 readers, my friend Chelsea, gave me some good advice in a post comment recently. She said, "Paying bills and going to bed at a decent hour is all well and good, but you could stand to be a little more irresponsible at times."
SO true! This has been one of the many things nagging at me when it comes to figuring my life out. I worry about making enough money, working at a job that allows me to make time for zumba, living in an apartment that has a washer & dryer and offers ample parking. All of these things I have right now. And you know what? I'm bored.
Comfort is a funny thing - it makes you feel at ease, but at the same time, it makes you (or at least, me) restless. I have my life all in order, so why am I anxious about everything?
I've been thinking about what Chelsea said, and she's right on. I've really been taking the easy way out for pretty much my entire life, never wanting to put in that extra umph to make life more fulfilling. Some examples:
I think it's high time I make some changes and start incorporating some irresponsibility into my life. Instead of my strict 10 or 10:30 p.m. bedtime every night, why don't I stay up until midnight writing a short story or watching a favorite movie? And would it really hurt me to get into work early once in awhile to get things done before everyone shows up? It's like I try so hard to avoid stress that in doing so, I drive myself crazy - and even worse, I don't challenge myself. I stick to my comfort zone, which is fine if you're 40, but 25 is the time to put myself out there.
I'm going to start working on this, although I'm not expecting changes overnight. I do still love my early bedtimes and making it to all my workout classes every week. But maybe I can loosen up the britches every now and again, and get irresponsible!
SO true! This has been one of the many things nagging at me when it comes to figuring my life out. I worry about making enough money, working at a job that allows me to make time for zumba, living in an apartment that has a washer & dryer and offers ample parking. All of these things I have right now. And you know what? I'm bored.
Comfort is a funny thing - it makes you feel at ease, but at the same time, it makes you (or at least, me) restless. I have my life all in order, so why am I anxious about everything?I've been thinking about what Chelsea said, and she's right on. I've really been taking the easy way out for pretty much my entire life, never wanting to put in that extra umph to make life more fulfilling. Some examples:
- I commute 10 minutes to work and come home for lunch, which plays a big factor in me not pursuing work downtown because of the 30+ min. drive each way.
- My apartment is nice and has all of the amenities I've looked for, but this is the suburbs for crying out loud. I'm sick of families and white people. I need me some culture!
- I leave work and come home, very rarely thinking about work once 4:30 rolls around. Sounds blissful right? Well, I could stand to be a little more stressed out about it, as crazy as that sounds.
- All of my bills get paid, and I'm pretty stable financially. Yet all I do is fantasize about a big trip to Italy. Why haven't I planned it already?
I think it's high time I make some changes and start incorporating some irresponsibility into my life. Instead of my strict 10 or 10:30 p.m. bedtime every night, why don't I stay up until midnight writing a short story or watching a favorite movie? And would it really hurt me to get into work early once in awhile to get things done before everyone shows up? It's like I try so hard to avoid stress that in doing so, I drive myself crazy - and even worse, I don't challenge myself. I stick to my comfort zone, which is fine if you're 40, but 25 is the time to put myself out there.
I'm going to start working on this, although I'm not expecting changes overnight. I do still love my early bedtimes and making it to all my workout classes every week. But maybe I can loosen up the britches every now and again, and get irresponsible!
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