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Mirrored Reflection

Your eyes would gaze across my body like an abstract painting. Every curve and flaw in place as if the artist painted each stroke with meaning. A painting that only you could understand. I would hate my reflection in the mirror. Longing to erase certain parts in hopes of attracting your body closer to mine. You would admire the reflection you saw and bring it closer to you in an embrace that for the first time in forever made me stop comparing my body to others. I finally felt like enough. The magazine covers of women I longed to identify with now were mere shreds of paper being ripped apart by societal standards. You gave me a confidence I never knew I had. Even though you left without warning, my reflection is now easier to see as I walk. Forever longing for that embrace once more from the one person who seemed to see me in a light that no one else could.

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Loose Thread

I hate the night because that’s when I feel most alone. The darkness of the room matches the darkness that surrounds my thoughts and mind. A phone once light up with nightly reminders of security and reassurance now remains silent and off. Holes in my heart from the bullets of lies that shot from your twisted lips and misspoken words. Leaving me is not the hardest pill to swallow. It’s the water of indecisiveness that I choke on as I try to swallow that pill. Words tend to mean everything to me. Remembering the words you spoke now turn to whispers that disappear with the wind. I trusted you. I gave you more than I’ve given myself. Trying to hold on to you was like grasping at a frayed thread on a sweater. With every tug, the thread unraveled. Unraveled until there was nothing left. Our love like a sweater that began so strong and bold. Only to be unraveled at every broken promise. Tugging that never stopped until that sweater ended in a pile of string on the floor. I am now the string on the floor. Hoping and praying that someone with careful hands and a loving needle can stitch me back up to become whole again.

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Words vs. Actions

Crushes. When you like someone. Hopefully with the intention that they will like you back. Hopefully being the key word. What happens though when words and actions do not match up? Unintentional heartache, that’s what.

So take my twisted non-existent love life as the example. I meet this guy and we have everything in common. Like scary in common. We get along great, talk everyday, and even go out on two dates. Sounds really promising right?! Yeah, that’s what I thought too. Until now.

Something changed and I have no clue what. He just immediately stopped talking to me. Like how the hell can things be going perfectly smooth to this? I really like this guy and I thought he liked me. I mean he told me he did. So what happened? If anyone has any clue then please for the love of God, enlighten me.

So now I sit here like a complete idiot overlooking, analyzing, and replaying ever single encounter we’ve had hoping to find where the magic was lost, when the spark dulled, the chemistry drained. Of course with my overthinking on top of self-esteem issues, I keep relating the problem back to me. And this may very well be the case. I wasn’t pretty enough, I was too fat, my teeth were too crooked, I didn’t fit his “ideal” type. Maybe so. Even still- words and actions need to match. Don’t tell me you like me and then act like I’m nonexistent. Have the balls to tell me what’s going on or the decency to at least not lie to my face as I waste my time playing Sherlock Holmes trying to figure out this case of decode the douchebag.

So, I’ll let y'all know if I figure out anything else.

-T

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Unimaginable Destinations

It's been awhile since I've been blogging and I've missed it. It is nice to be able to write your thoughts through honesty and purity. Unimaginable destinations. Those beautifully immaculate places all across the world that you dream of going. A dream that seems impossible, but yet you hold on to the hopes of one day visiting. It ranges from countries and continents to the turquoise waters and snowy mountains hand carved by God. Those places only seem reached by "other" people. Those whom are celebrities, rich, or able to travel to the depths of the Earth without constraints of money, time, or fear. However, those unimaginable destinations are now becoming imaginable. Never in a million years would I have thought I'd obtain a passport and travel internationally to Europe. I always said I wanted to go, but never thought I'd "actually" go. And if you were to tell me that my best friend would be backpacking and hiking through the Amazon rainforest for a week, I tell you that you were a crazy son of a bitch! Although, now I'm the crazy one- because it is truly happening. You could say I'm in shock. I am. It doesn't truly feel real yet and I don't think it will until I board my flight and sit my ass in that seat. I'll admit, I'm scared. Thanks to my anxiety which is a bitch. I'm scared about all the million and two things that could possibly go wrong. From the plane crashing into the ocean all the way to being abducted and sold into sex slavery. Again, my anxiety is a total mind-shattering, nauseating, knee-shaking, ridiculous bitch. But that is how my mind works- going from one extreme to the next. Thank God for my best friend because she helps to bring me centered through all this mental chaos. Reminding me to breath in the whole experience. To not allow the little or absurd things to affect the opportunity that I have before me. To not worry or fear the unknown, but to embrace it. To put my trust and fears into God and know that He will guide me through this adventure. I know that is exactly what I must do. Enjoy it. Let go of everything and be free. To be thankful that for once my unimaginable destination is now an anxiously and incredible awaited vacation. So for those reading this please pray or send good vibes toward my best friend and I. It would be much needed and greatly appreciated. I'll keep you posted as the trip nears. Wish me luck! Wanderlust 🌏 -T

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Meaningless Pages

Reading. It is something I have been doing my entire life. With absolute love and passion, reading is my escape. I am able to open the pages and become transcended into the words that effortless consume my mind. An escape. A way to stop time in reality, while starting the clock of my fantasies.

May I add that there is a huge difference between actual physical books and those read off a screen. Those are a joke. I need a book that I can feel, grasp, and hold. Smell the aged paper as it radiates off the delicate pages. The ability to turn the elegant pages with such precision and anticipation of what comes next.

However, now all I read are meaningless pages.

It is a rare commodity to “pleasure” read as I call it. Reading with no relation to school work or career endeavors. The joy to read for pure enjoyment with no commitment of future essay developments or testing requirements on the subject matter. The sadness is I cannot escape my own racing thoughts in order to enjoy the black and white writing.

As I have finally found time to pleasure read, my mind disagrees. I lay here with a book in my hand going through the motions of reading while my mind is on a roller coaster of thoughts, memories, deadlines, dates, and events. How can I calm my mind in order to appreciate and enjoy such a rare commodity of mine? Can my brain relax for spare moments in order for the enjoyment to reoccur?

Hopefully my mind will cease and my pleasure will commend from meaningless pages to meaningful once again.

-T

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Drained Emotions

I. Am. Tired.

Tired of always getting my hopes up, tired of thinking things will be different, and tired of trying. Every time I put myself out there and step out of my comfort zone, something happens to push me back inside and barricade within the walls of security. It’s the same old story time and time again. I like him, but he doesn’t like me.

I hate how my emotions turn against my focused and walled mind. Trying to squeeze in different feelings of lust and attraction. I rarely let this happen, because the end result is always the same. Drained emotions.

Honestly, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I may not be the prettiest, skinniest, or tallest, but I’m loving, kind, and smart. Why does physical features constantly override and dictate inner ones? Why can’t someone love me for who I am within rather than what I show outwardly? Personality should override physicality.

Who knows? Societal standards are all fucked up. I should know that better than most, I am one who studies sociology. A sociologist examining and analyzing human interaction and behavior within society. I know the interworking of social structure and societal constraints. How it won’t change until it’s acknowledged as an issue. Even then, there’s no guarantee that it will change.

It just sucks. Sucks to continually be rejected based off mere societal standards and expectations. Just once, I wish I could meet someone who would change it all. To have them finally bring some sense into my puzzled questioning. To see into my soul and actually want to stay.

Until then, I’m done. Finished trying to figure out life. For now, I’m going with the flow. No expectations, no desires, just focusing on each day as it comes.

Things will work out when they’re not being searched for. I hope…

-T

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Twisted Connections

The heart. The brain. Two functions continuously in contradiction, opposition, and disarray of the other. It always seems as though your heart and mind are in constant argue over the correct choice to be made. The devil on one side and the angel on the other.

Which do you choose?

The heart: connecting emotions, empathy, and soul into the decision in which you may feel a longing or sense of attachment to the choice to be made.

The brain: connecting and arranging mere logic, question, and evaluation into the decision in which you’ve already analyzed and interpreted the choice to be made.

The question I constantly battle is which do you use throughout life that will lead you to the best output? This goes with all major decision making whether it be career adjustments, relationships, life changes, etc. For once it would be nice if the two would coincide in true agreement without disruption of second thoughts and questioning.

If only I could choose…

The heart. The brain. Twisted connections.

-T

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Chivalrous Extinction

As I set here and examine the constraints of the dating realm today, I am perplexed. How did such things as love letters, phone calls, and hand holding quickly escalate into the millennial trends of sexting, booty calls, and grouping? Don’t get me wrong physical attraction and intimate action is great, but why is it becoming “expected” and “anticipated”?

I have been through too many scenarios where the man constantly feels entitled to a region of my body without any hesitation or question. If I go out on a dinner date, why is sex always expected as a token of gratitude for the payment of the meal? How is grabbing my ass without permission acceptable when we’ve met just minutes before? I’m sorry, but just because I accept the invitation of attending a date, does not give the other person and invitation to explore my body.

What happened to respect, understanding, gratitude- basically human decency. I hold on to the idea that I will meet a man who actually cares enough to know who I am personally and not just what my body can give. A man who will look me in the eyes instead of staring at my ass. One who wants to know my goals, fears, dreams,- not one only interested in my favorite sexual position or nude figure.

Some may say I’m a hopeless romantic and it’s true. I feel as though chivalry is extinct to this day and age. No one takes the time to truly get to know and desire another because access to someone else is entirely too easy. Why should a man wait and pursue me when there are a million other girls out there who will give him what he wants in a second?

I should also clarify that I am sure there maybe guys out there who feel the same way about women. So I should not base my assumptions entirely on that of men. However, I can only assume based off my own previous experiences on relationships stemming from the male population.

Call me a prude, bitch, goody goody or what have you, but I will not lower my standards for anyone else. I will not fall captive to the “new age” dating era of being a “fuck buddy” as a few guys have asked me to be. I will hold on to the hope that I will meet the right man one day. The one consumed with chivalry, respect, and gratitude in search of pursing me intently, passionately and solely.

Until then, cheers to all whom understand, relate, and are in the same boat as I.

-T

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Timeless Clock

Do you ever feel stuck? Stuck in routine, in a job, in a relationship? Stuck in time. Do you find yourself not even looking at a clock for a time anymore because you realize that it doesn’t matter- you know what’s coming next? I feel as though I’ve been stuck for a long time. Trapped doing the same tedious, mind-numbing routine activities each day. As much as I feel like way, I am my own hypocrite completely hating change. I like the way routine and structure feels as though I have purpose and a mission to complete. But once these come and go each day, they begin to feel like chores and chained events happening regardless.

I admit, I am scared. Scared to go out on my own to survive on my own without the preconceived events dictating my life like a self-checking calendar. My life feels like a constant to-do list without interception of anything else. This is why this year I am determined and motivated to get out. To change the timeless clock of my life into a constant countdown of adventure. To explore, question, and desire the world that encompasses my small home state. To travel, see new sights, experience new towns, meet new people, smell the air of exotic places, and to ultimately, feel as though my time is worthy. To abandon the quicksand of routine and do something outside my comfort zone. Something has to change before the time ultimately stops and I’m stuck in a invented dream rather then an achieved reality.

Shall your clock never stop ticking.

-T

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Grey Heart

Some people have red hearts full of love to give, some have black hearts completely broken and shut off from the world. But, perhaps like me, you have a grey heart. One that is tired and greyed from previous love afflictions gone wrong. Gone wrong from timing, lack of interest, differing outlooks, parallel paths that ran alongside one another, never connected along the way. But then light enough to have hope in serendipity. When it comes to the notion of love… Of course I want to find it, but I am not fixated on the idea of revolving my whole life around its search.

If it happens it does, and if it doesn’t then that’s okay too. I feel as though society has so many unmasked pressures put on individuals to conform to the normative “timeline” created for a person to follow. God forbid someone makes their own “timeline” to follow and they are constantly questioned and ostracized by others.

My point is, if you’re like me still wondering who you are and if you’ll ever settle down. Stop thinking about it. You must first figure out who you are yourself and what you want out of life before considering or consulting another individual. Don’t let your heart be red accepting anything and anyone as a perception of love, but also don’t color your heart so black, that nothing will pass. Allow your heart to be grey. Shadowed by previous love mistakes, but light enough to allow those who truly care in.

Remember: you must first love yourself before anyone can love you.

-T

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Damaged Liver

In case you’ve ever had the thought in your mind to consider perhaps attending Graduate School. DO NOT. It’s a money hungry, soul crushing, mind bashing, liver damaging trap. Back in my younger years say 20, it sounded like the perfect plan in order to allow me to figure out the course of my life. When I graduated Magna Cum Laude with my Bachelor of Criminal Justice, I had no intention of ever using it. Yes, I wasted 3 years of my time and borrowed state funds for nothing.

You may ask how in the world did I not figure it out sooner that I should have changed my major? Well.. I figured it out the summer before graduation. The summer I was an intern for a law firm. My dream was to become a beautiful, radiant Prosecuting Attorney for the State of Texas. That lifelong dream of 18 years quickly died when I realized I hated it. I love the black and white law straight out of the books, but had no clue about the hierarchical, condescending, manipulative ladder that climbs the building known as the justice system. It was all “who” you knew and not “what” you knew. I was crushed. Mentally, physically, emotionally crushed. What to do now???

I had taken quite a bit of sociology courses that double-dipped into the criminal justice world and learned to view the world in a whole different perspective. I fell in love with the field. I wanted to learn and know everything there was to know about this sociological science. That’s how I ended up in grad school. I was going to get my Master in Sociology.

However, it turned out to be nothing like I expected. Story of my life. Constantly hit with road blocks known as disappointment and frustration. I am constantly living off stress eating, alcohol, and NyQuil. So there you go… A little background on where I am right now in the academic world. If you want to know about work, family, friends, and my love life…

Stay tuned. - T

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Hello World.

Here I am. 22 years old thinking I should have my life completely figured out. I should be living on my own in a glorious apartment, working the perfect job, enjoying my soulmate of a man, and maintaining the healthy body I’ve always dreamed of. Sadly, those are only dreams and reality hasn’t caught up to them yet. I’m still living with my parents, working a job that barely pays the bills, single AF, and my “hot” bod is hidden under the curves and rolls previously and currently maintained by stress eating and alcohol. Lots of alcohol.

However, after having a sort of “eye-opening” realization… I have concluded that these things are just part of the natural order of being in the early twenties. Instead of dwelling on how to figure out my life, I need to start living it. L. I. F. E. is such a small word that means so much. If you spend all your time worrying about “how” to live, you’ll miss out on the opportunity to “actually” live.

Some may confuse “actually” living to fitting the mold of every adult American through daily routine, weekly deadlines, and the occasional weekend “splurge”. This is not what I mean. I don’t just want to “live” life, I want to explore it. I want to see what the world has to offer, learn from those different than myself, expand on cultural experiences, to break the barrier of being a childbearing wife by age 24, and honestly, just get away from this town of 800 people I call- home.

2016. This shall be the year I step out of my comfort zone. Stop being afraid of the unknown and learn to embrace it. To stop always listening to the opinions and advice of others. 2016 will be the year I set my limits on the world and raise my standards on all accounts. I’m tired of dreaming of change, instead I will create the change.

Hello world. I’m coming for you.

- T