It’s not that I don’t want you around 

It’s just that I’m not at my best right now. 

I can’t extend myself anymore than I already  am with the variables I’m familiar with. 

I need to remove a variable for the moment

I’m sorry it’s you

But I really like you and I want to take this slow

I also need to fall in love with myself first 

And right now, I’m very much not 

Full of disgrace, defeat, and self-loathing

I’m not at my best and I’m afraid of what this person will do

I just need some space

I just need some time 

So much has gone on this last month and I’m having a hard time processing it all, still. I think once it hits me how much I dealt with and moved on it’ll be an emotional moment. With all the downs though, there definitely was some ups.

I have really good friends who helped me get through these times. I really feel lucky to have people I can turn to and are able to help and I hope to return the favor some day.

4/20/23 Was probably the beginning of the true upswing that started putting me at ease and a smile on my face. For four days we went on adventures, big and small, had some really insightful and deep discussions, but we also laughed a lot. That’s exactly what I needed, some laughs and an opportunity to smile big.

The final weekend in April had its major ups, too. A friend suggested we head out to Mt. Vernon and spend a day at the Tulip Festival and then lunch at a waterfront cafe in a small town. The sunshine was intoxicating, the colors were mesmerizing, and the scents were so wonderful. It was exactly what I needed.

And then today I saw the one I’ve been in a tizzy over for the first time in over a month. It was a good time and I enjoyed his company. I got to hear more about his situation and more about his life over the past month in general. Things seem generally on the up and he’s excited about a lot of what’s going on.

We also had some good chats about this whole situation, too. We both admitted to liking each other, but also that we have no idea what we both want and don’t want to rush into things. We’re “taking it slow” and tagging this as “casual dating”.

I’m okay with this. I really think he’s pretty awesome and I want to keep getting to know him. There were surprises today that I wasn’t expecting, either; moments that he remembered I said on our first date, a more relaxed tone, and his ability to bring things up early on that helped put me at ease. Of course, me being me, I’m going to also hang on small things that can be misconstrued as negative, but ultimately won’t matter because I’m just looking for fodder for overthinking.

Ultimately, I told him that I’m going to honor his need for space and figuring things out. I hate putting the onus on him to lead on this (there are three or more reasons, but I have to acknowledge two selfish reasons: It puts him in control, and sets an undefined timeline, both things I have a hard time having patience with), but it’s a way that helps him establish boundaries and requires him to put a bit of effort. The heavy lifting I’ll be doing is the constant exercise in patience for those two issues I’ve mentioned earlier. I also know it’s what is best for me, too; if I try to rush this and ask for immediate answers or a quick solution I’m putting a lot at risk, unnecessary risk. No, I need to let this also breathe just so I can figure out what goals I personally have in the form of growth and what I’m looking for when it comes to another person (if I want another person).

At the moment, I just feel a bit lonely, a bit downtrodden, and a bit defeated. This is not me at my best and I’d hate for that persona to be the one that defines a situation that needs a more confident, secure, and experienced persona to take account of the situation. I’m not going to lie here or to myself: this is going to be a test of my patience. A test I haven’t had to take in years and I’m quite anxious about it. But I have to honor myself and really allow some opportunity for myself to also grow and learn about me. I need to push back this urge to jump into something head-first without caution or full thought. No, I need to do things on my own, learn about who I am, and build back my confidence.

April really kicked my ass and served it up in a dirty martini glass.

I really don’t know what it is about this guy that has me so invested. I’ve tried to rationalize it as me just wanting attention, just being lonely, or just a simple crush, but I really feel like there’s something more there. There’s something worth exploring and getting to know and I feel like that was validated today. We’ll see. For now, we’ll just have fun and see what happens.

I do have to wonder if far off future me will read this and have a laugh or a cry for some unknown-to-current-me reasons. Or will I read this in the future with absolute apathy, or even worse, scorn?

I fucking hate waiting for answers.

(Originally written April 23, 2022)

Recently I had a day where I just didn’t want to be at home. It was the day after I had initiated the break and I just knew that if I occupied the same space as him that it wouldn’t be good for either of us. I had messaged a friend and told him I’d be at our local coffee shop. The wording of my message relayed the fact that I was in need of a friend, and despite his own plans for the day he set that aside and made time for me.

We had coffee and had a good chat about all the things that had transpired and led me to that point. it was a very welcoming reprieve and honestly, an echo of sentiment that I really needed. He’s such a good person and friend that I don’t think he’ll ever understand just how important, helpful, and wonderful he is as a human being.

Anyway, we sat there talking and sipping on more than enough caffeine to fuel a small army. We parted ways to allow him to do even more altruistic things, and I opened up my laptop and started writing.

I had gotten through a full post and into a few passages when I heard and felt the presence of another. It was a familiar voice whispering in my ear but it took me by surprise. I turned around and squee-ed! Like, literally squee-ed!

There they were, my two friends K and J, a few drinks deep into their Saturday, prepped to keep going. We didn’t expect to see each other here, but then surprise quickly morphed into celebration, and before I knew it a few more friends trickled in. Within a few minutes, my other friend who had met me here earlier had messaged to see if I was still around and he was on his way.

This unexpected reunion of so many souls took me by surprise but was exactly what I needed at that moment. We talked, drank some beer, and talked some more.

Eventually the night lead to a handful of us heading back to K and J’s place. We laughed and danced like giggling teens. We shared in our insecurities while also laughing them off and building each other up. It was a fun night and exactly what I had needed at that moment.

What I learned was that no matter how old we get we still at our core feel the same uncertainties and insecurities as those in their adolescence. That’s the one truth I hadn’t ever heard or expected as I got older; for some reason there’s this expectation that once we get past a certain age we no longer worry about how we look, feel, or even are perceived by others.

The truth is that we never get over these hangups until we allow ourselves to do so. No amount of “likes” or in person compliments resonate until we allow it. Some of us will always think of ourselves as the awkward and unlikeable fat kid at the back of the class, and the unfortunate truth is that a lot of times we put ourselves in those boxes.

Knowing this has helped me to move on, but it also brings on a whole slew of other concerns as I contemplate entering the dating pool.

The “dating pool”. What a stupid phrase but there really isn’t a better way to describe the vast and broad endeavor of trying to find a mate. It already sounds and feels exhausting; pre-date screening, actual dates, meeting friends and family, talking about plans, future goals, etc. It already feels so exhausting.

I don’t think I’m ready for any of that. Instead, I’m just going to focus on myself and work on trying to figure out who I am, who I was, and who I want to be.

Today I went to go see Kiki’s Delivery Service for a special screening. It was unexpectedly a very emotional experience for me. For one, there was a child in the audience asking questions and enjoying each surprise as it came. It just reiterated the reason why I’m moving on and why I need to do this, but the story itself also brought out something in me that I thought felt very personal. When the film was closing with Kiki’s letter back to her parents it hit me post credits – the feeling of leaving, missing home, but knowing that it needs to be done for personal growth.

I kind of feel like it was fate that led me to watching this film. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but the entire story felt so very relatable that I couldn’t help but feel emotional at the end of it.

Maybe that’s my fate – to fly

A question someone asked me recently and I’m having a hard time answering. Instinctively I feel like I should say “Austin” because that is where so much of my heart is, but…

But, I’ve disconnected from the city a long time ago. 

Is it here, in Seattle? I feel it’s too early to tell. I’m infatuated. I’ve fallen hard for this city. It feels like a direct reflection of who I am at this time in my life; a veneer that appears inviting, warm, safe, and entertaining, but there is a severe darkness to it. The juxtaposition of a beautiful image with a series of dark veins. An underbelly that would rival Gotham City. 

And yet, it feels right. A city that lives in extremes – a brutal winter followed by a stunning and enchanting summer.

But I hesitate to call it home just yet. I’m not sure why, maybe I need to ride out this infatuation first and see how I feel after a few weeks of no sun and drizzle. Maybe I’m hesitant to call it home because part of me still worries I may be called back to Texas. To shirk this need to be selfish, to find myself again, and deal with some of the uncut and frayed threads I left behind. 

I don’t know. I don’t want this infatuation, this feeling of wonder and discovery, to end. Maybe that’s what I’m also afraid of; that at some point I’ll think of this place as just another city I’m living in. Falling into a mundane routine that no longer amuses or feeds me. 

I’m in the middle of some major life changes that have been immediate priorities, which means this little space of mine has been neglected. It’s also slightly intentional, as I want to avoid making any mistakes or leave any paper trails that could potentially affect the outcome of my divorce.

I have a lot of thoughts, feelings, and general sentiment about that specific topic that I would absolutely love to unload and let go of in written form, but I’m intentionally holding out until it’s all finalized. A lot of my life has shifted toward the better, but it took a very big toll to get here. I’m still paying for it in many ways, but at the end of the day, being able to actually be happy and comfortable in my new space has been the ultimate payoff.

I never felt so wicked
As when I willed our love to die

https://open.spotify.com/track/0ieqq1wbtso2UjJWPqJ5Xc?si=045aef19de014ca7

I will say, I probably didn’t go about this transition in the easiest way possible, but I figured if I was going to make big changes it’s time to jump right in. The biggest change is relocating to a city almost 3000 miles away from where I had spent most of my life, but leaving Texas feels like the right move. The political climate, the general climate, the cost of living, the need for something new, and the call of wanderlust was just the right amount of motivation to get me to pack up what little I could take and move to Seattle. I know I’m still in the honeymoon phase, but I love my tiny little space, my quirky little neighborhood, and the convenience of being able to walk to so many things has been a joy.

It’s these small things that are adding up to a general feeling of content and growth. I had felt so stagnant in every aspect of my life prior to this change, despite the rocky journey, that I just feel better equipped to move on. While getting used to a new place has its challenges, I feel like I’ve done this before in much scarier circumstances (Hello Stockholm! It’s me, a new resident American living in your city during a pandemic!) that it isn’t that foreign or that unsurmountable.

The biggest win I’ve had so far though, is that I’m not falling into self-destructive tendencies to cope; don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my fair share of alcohol and cannabis lately, but the intent of consumption was more for relaxation rather than to get black out and will away the time. I have a lot of hope and optimism for this new chapter in my life, but I also know that there are going to be challenges that I need to face in different ways. I just feel so much support that I’m hopeful this change is for the better.

But now I’m gold
But now I’m gold
But now I’m gold

In this day and age, I hear a lot more sentiment and talk about how someone’s mom is “their best friend and someone [they] can talk to openly”. I wish I could do that, I really do. My relationship with my mother is as complex as an aspic recipe; easy to rationalize on paper but when it comes to the work it actually ends up falling apart in the weirdest of ways.

As I sit here and think about my complex relationship with my own mother, I also think about just how different the dynamic is between her and my sister. I can’t be mad about it even though the tinges of jealousy often overwhelm me. I know her background and the timing in which she gave birth to me has a lot to do with the overall relationship we have, but I can’t help but wish I had a maternal anchor during some of the most trying times in my life. Maybe that’s why I’m so fiercely protective of the people that I have been fortunate enough to have come into my life.

I remember clearly one recent incident that speaks up about our relationship as a whole, and I can’t help but get sad. I had asked my family to meet me at my favorite restaurant for a celebration. I had just completed enough credits to earn a degree so I was super excited to share in this achievement with people. It’s a huge achievement to complete something so daunting while also maintaining a full-time job and a full-time household.

That didn’t matter. She showed up already angry about something completely out of our control, something so ancillary that it made no sense to be upset about, but it ended up taking center stage. It ruined the overall atmosphere, ruined the fellowship I wanted to engage in, and above all, it ruined my fucking accomplishment. She was so adamant and set on being mad, that any time I’d bring up “Okay, but I also want to talk about how I did this thing” she’d somehow cause the conversation to spiral and die.

Mental illness is a very real thing. I understand that and I am legitimately sensitive to it, but I also think about the small child hiding in a closet trying to avoid another berating or a beating just because I (a six year old) forgot to take my Flintstones Vitamins for the day. The days when I was afraid to come home to the screaming, the yelling, and sometimes, the slaps and shakes that were waiting for me just because she was having a rough day. Or the teenager who got things thrown at them just because they stopped taking the verbal abuse and tried to stand up to it. The cases of abuse go on and on, but the thing that she said recently that showed me she has no remorse or interest in rectification? The day I told her it was uncomfortable for others to hear about this kind of past trauma in a way that made light of it, or turned it into a joke. Her response:

“Well, you didn’t have it anywhere near as bad as I did”.

That’s honestly when I knew I was completely alone in my trauma and even more isolated from her in trying to get over it.

More recently, about two years ago prior to the start of the pandemic, she decided my choice to not walk across the stage to get my diploma was an absolute front to her sensibilities. She had spent months avoiding talking to me, mentioning my existence, or even trying to come to some kind of resolution. The words “I’m sorry” are not part of her lexicon. Knowing that my time in the states was coming to an end for at least a year, I reached out. She acted as if nothing had happened, as if no need for a apology on her part was necessary, but that it was more a failing on my part to reach out sooner. She was mad that she only had a few more visits with me before I left for a job in Sweden.

Remorse.

That’s probably the most familiar emotion and sentiment to her, but you’d think that after all these years of isolation, of dying on each hill, she’d come around and try to get better. No, instead, she continues to dig in her heels and make sure that I pay for each and every discretion she feels I am absolutely guilty.

The last time I walked away from her because I couldn’t stand listening to her judgmental tirade was during a time when fellowship, kindness, and patience were necessary. But in her world, it was more of an opportunity to continue the constant argument. She had reacted very poorly to a family member showing up at a family event, and had asked my sister and myself to meet her for lunch so she could explain her intentions and why she reacted the way she did. In normal circumstances, this is a reasonable ask, but when it comes to my mother, I knew better.

Instead of talking over the problem, she began to hone in on me, make me the sole reason she was upset, and give her an opportunity to say some of the most fucked up shit anyone has ever said to me. As she talked, she kept stabbing at her food with her fork and knife, making it very obvious she hadn’t gotten over it; if anything she had just amplifeid her anger. Here’s a quick recap:

“I am pissed that [she] showed up. We have history, and I know YOU [pointing at me] won’t understand it because you give everyone the benefit of the doubt”.

“I know you think I’m a bad mom, but you HAVE NO RIGHT TO MAKE THAT STATEMENT BECAUSE YOU ARE NOT A PARENT!”

Holy shit. Just. Holy shit.

At that moment, I got up and just walked away. I didn’t have anywhere to go, but I knew that if I stayed she’d continue to zone in on me and make me the focal point for her anger. With her words once again she made me question my own self-worth and value. Her last statement literally was like a stab to the heart; knowing that I want children but my ex had no interest in it, and the disappointment she constantly relayed to me that I hadn’t given her grandchildren just resonated. It’s bad enough I internalize these feelings, but to hear someone else echo this while also personally attacking me was just too much.

So I walked into the streets of El Paso and began wandering without much purpose until I figured out what my immediate needs were. I needed to take a moment, call someone who will listen and help talk me through this, and then, execute an actionable list of tasks.

I was able to react accordingly, and get a rental car to make it so my reliance on her was no longer even possible, then I just gave myself some time to process and mourn.

While my own trauma that time was exhausting, I knew that the overall reason why were there in the first place was bigger than my own immediate needs. I made sure I was in a good place mentally and physically, then I called my aunt. I had made a commitment to focus on her current trauma of losing her partner and be the support system she really needed.

I think it helped, but fuck if it wasn’t the most emotionally draining experiences I’ve had. It makes me mad to think of it because what my aunt really could have used was her big sister, but…

While I knew wasn’t a replacement for her big sister, I knew that her being alone was not the most ideal situation. I to this day can’t even fathom the kind of hell she suffered, but I hope that my presence helped just a bit.

I got to know more about her and do a lot of catching up. Even though it was under bad circumstances, I really am appreciative of her company and her love. Her devotion to her god even after living through some of the most frightening experiences amazes me and inspires me. While I still struggle with my own feelings about Christianity, her aim is still true and I am in awe of it.

She shared a very personal anecdote with me about my grandmother. To preface this, my mom is the oldest female. and my aunt I’m referencing here is the youngest of 12. It was a large, hispanic, and very poor family raised through several generations.

My grandmother, what I saw of her, was kind, funny, but often times easy to anger, coupled with an unhealthy relationship to my grandfather. Poverty, too many kids, infidelity, an emphasis on machismo culture, and mental illness all made for an unfortunate environment for every single entity that lived in it.

My grandmother had a stroke in the 90s that caused her to lose function in her right arm, a speach impediment, and a slew of other maladies. Shortly after, my grandfather died. She had lived with my uncles for a few years, but then ended up moving in with my aunt and her husband.

She had soften during that time and change into a more patient and loving human being. Years after my aunt and uncle had given birth to their one and only child, she passed on.

She and my aunt had developed a new and beautiful bond that cannot be replicated. Through my cousin, they both learned patience and the opportunity to have a sense of humor about things, not be too serious, but also allowing each other to really share themselves in a different and more healthy capacity.

All this exposition is leading up to something, I promise.

During this time, my aunt and grandmother grew closer and shared things. They saw each other in a different light; not just a daughter in need of guidance, and not just an abusive and aloof mother, but an opportunity to see each other as people.

That was what my aunt shared with me as I spent time with her. She shared a bit more detail and a few more anecdotes, but to even try to put those into words other than hers would cause them to lose their luster. She did say one thing to me that really made me think and not entirely lose hope.

“I wish your mom had seen that kindness and soft side of our mother”.

A very similar sentiment was shared with me while I was spending time with my sister during this specific trip. It makes me sad, but I don’t know if I’ll ever see that kind of person in my mother. Not any time soon. I still have a few more personal decisions I’ve made that I still need to relay that’ll disappoint her.

It wasn’t all bad, and it wasn’t all good, but I know it was complex. Far more complex than the relationship my sister and her have, and by far more complex than a lot of other people I know. All I know is this situation, and this complex and difficult dichotomy to parse, but I know there is love.