Was I too much or not enough?
Scared of vulnerability, did I act too tough?
Emotional, did I deliver it all too rough?
Walking ultimatum, did I call my own bluff?
Love like quicksand, did I make you feel stuck?
Loads of insecurities, did they make you not give a fuck?
Was I just not built of all the right stuff?
Well, was I too much or not enough?
–S.
I learned that it never turns out how you think it will.
I learned that there are still moments that can make time stand still.
I learned that death can happen on selfish hill.
I learned that with certain people you can never quite get your fill.
–S.
The twenty-third year of my life was about swimming in an ocean of mistakes and coming back onto land to take chances. Both unfamiliar territories for me, for the record.
There is really something to be said about making mistakes that send you rolling into a gutter. You’re flat on your back. Everything hurts. Something might be broken. Your feet can’t carry you any longer. Some people in the gutter look up and see a pitch black sky. But if you look into the eyes of the others, you see what looks like a million shining white dots.
Stars.
And it’s in these eyes that warriors are born. I’d like to think that after everything that has happened up to this moment, that I’ve fought harder than ever to maintain my view of the stars. To still believe in the good. To not turn off their light. Even when the night almost consumed me. That I stripped away the layers of myself that died in the comfort zones I surrounded myself with and gave birth to a warrior.
A warrior ready to attack life because it’s going to attack right back. I’ve laid in quite a few gutters in the last year and I anticipate that I’ll lay in many more in the years to come. But the stars always light the way for me.
–S.
I’m grateful for how my body grew to accommodate me; more specifically, stretchmarks.
I know you’re probably rolling your eyes, but hear me out.
They showed up, I don’t know, pre-teens, I think. I say this like they just walked into the building unannounced, but they kind of did. Didn’t they?
I was always the chubbiest kid in any group. They showed up early. It seems like one day I didn’t have them, and then I did.
At first, it’s so…final. So…permanent. So…there.
I want to barter with the universe. I’ll give you back ALL the late night pepperoni hot pockets and beef ramen cups, if you take them back?
The Universe doesn’t respond.
I’ll cry! You hate to see me cry, don’t you?
The Universe doesn’t respond.
I mourn.
The Universe doesn’t respond.
And then they are so…angry. So red.
Or maybe I’m angry, so I’m projecting that onto them.
But we’ve been together over 15 years now, and it went how it usually does.
Breasts.
Arms.
Thighs.
Knees.
Love Handles.
And I promise myself…I’ll do the work. I will get it right. I won’t get ANY more.
But I got bigger. And there were more.
So, there I was. And there they were.
And….here we are now.
I hated them for a long long long time.
A deep sadness ran in me for something that couldn’t be undone.
Like their appearance diminished everything good about me. Like I was no longer a daughter, a sister, a cousin, a best friend, a friend, a college graduate, the list goes on and on.
And if someone saw them – it’d be social suicide.
But as time went on – I saw them on other people, and they just didn’t look ugly to me ON THEM, just on me.
The angry colors faded and so did my hate.
It turned into acceptance.
And eventually it was like a mole or a freckle or a battle scar.
I used to think it made my body…not soft. Not worthy of being touched.
But sometimes, late at night, right before I drift off, I run my hands over my stomach.
It made me softer.
And dare I say, more interesting.
I lived through something.
I’m still fighting it today.
But now I see fireworks, lightning, thunder striking the earth, shooting stars, hidden paths on a map.
I’m STILL me.
And if someone EVER tried to talk down to me about my stretchmarks, they’d get ghosted like the Universe ghosted me when I was trying to trade them out for something better.
One of my favorite Cheryl Strayed quotes is –
“How wild it was, to let it be.”
And honestly, it really IS wild.
I spent so much time thinking self-hate and negativity would get me somewhere GOOD.
It never did.
So, I’m trying this self-love, self-acceptance, and positivity thing…and I’m growing.
I’m watering the dirt. Flowers are blooming.
I hope that right before you drift off to sleep tonight, you take a moment and just touch your stretchmarks.
Literally touch yourself.
How soft. How magical.
How there.
How YOU.
–S.
I disappear.
I disappeared.
I was disappearing.
And then he saw me.
In all of my flawed glory.
And I tried.
Tried, but was not successful in tearing my eyes away.
I fade.
I faded.
I was fading.
And our first kiss breathed life into my throat.
To my lungs.
To my stomach.
To my spine.
Ears.
Fingers.
Liver.
Toes.
Eyes.
Thighs.
Arms.
Hair.
And into my heart.
–S.
I believe in mothers as best friends. I believe in the healing power of a dog’s love. I believe that laughing with someone you love is one of the great joys of being alive. I believe that music is a constant companion. I believe that some of life’s greatest adventures can only be found in a book. I believe that traveling helps you not only uncover more of the world, but hidden parts of yourself. I believe in using painting as a form of therapy. I believe that there isn’t much a dinner filled with Italian and girl-talk cannot solve. I believe that the only real apology is changed behavior. I believe that there are many different forevers – some might last just for a second or two, but they still go on – forever. I believe in the power of words – not only as a form of self-expression, but to prove to you that you are not alone. I believe in sleeping in. I believe in contemporary art. I believe that you are the only one responsible for your own healing. I believe that a good sense of humor can get you through a lot of dark shit. I believe in sunrises. I believe in sunsets. I believe that there is beauty in the mundane. I believe in the magic of ghost towns. I believe in love. I believe in letting go. I believe in the Universe. I believe that cooking a meal from absolute scratch is a form of therapy. I believe in appetizers and dessert. I believe in the power of reinventing yourself. I believe in connecting with someone on a deeper level because you know them from a sister life. I believe that after each heartbreak, you must relearn who you are. Additionally, I believe that you are changed every time you have loved truly. I don’t believe in love at first sight anymore, but I believe in ‘oh, it feels like I’ve known you before’ at first sight. I believe that time is one of the great healers of life. I believe that the ocean is a profound place to bring your grief. I believe in the caress of a breeze or slight wind. I believe that rain should make you feel alive. I believe in deep conversations after midnight. I believe in car rides around the city with your playlist blasting. I believe in still purchasing your favorite movies on DVD. I believe that the emotions I feel when singing my favorite songs are unmatched by anything else. I believe in adding cheese, bacon, and avocado. I believe in squeezing a lemon or lime wedge into my coca-cola. I believe in the sense of unity attending a concert brings. I believe that my dad is the funniest person I know. I believe that I will always give my all to remain close to my baby brother. I believe that nature is a great healer. I believe that sometimes you have to get lost to be found again. I believe that unlearning a lot of the bullshit you thought was true brings you closer to who you really are. I believe that some things are unforgivable. I believe that I’ve never been kissed properly, thoroughly. I believe in the acoustic versions of songs. I believe in poetry slams. I believe that the truth will set you free, it might set some things on fire, but it will set you free.
–S.
I wish I could tell you that everything worked out the way you thought it would, but it didn’t. It worked out the way it was supposed to, like life always does. It takes a long time for you to learn that.
You work your ass off when it comes to your dreams. You persevere despite all of the odds stacked against you. You laugh. You cry. You love. Sometimes harder than you should. Love is never lost. It always comes back to you. Like energy recycled, and always bigger, brighter, and better than before.
People come, go, and some even stay. You spend a long time searching for some kind of reciprocation from people. Something more. But you find it in yourself. Your heart breaks. You actually break a few hearts yourself. You’re a rock for a lot of people. People don’t know how to handle the funny and strong girl going through a hard time. You become your own rock. More like a crystal. Shining through all of the cracks.
Are you ready for this one? Your mom is your best friend. Crazy, right? But she has always been the string that holds everything together. And when you’re thirteen, your mom gives birth to a healthy baby boy. And everything changes. Life can never be called dull again. Your heart expands and then there’s this boy who looks like you and your mom, and your dad all mixed together with long limbs and a loud voice and a personality of his own. He sighs and rolls his eyes when you tell him about life and all of your childhood photos look like his and you don’t really know where he ends and you begin.
You encounter many people who want to numb pain. So, they have sex with anyone, they get high, they get drunk, anything to not feel. But you feel your way through everything. Even when the pain is so great that it takes your breath away, you warrior your way through it. You spend so much time worrying and being scared and everything always comes out okay, you make sure of it.
You never let a man define who you are. You read thousands of books. You get lost in the words and found again. You place a lot of importance on being smart and not society’s version of what is beautiful. You come into your own. Your happy place is any ghost town or small city.
You learn that your voice and feelings are important and valid. And somewhere along the way, you fall in love with yourself.
I know you’re not going to believe me, but trust me.
I’m writing from the future.
We did okay, kid.
I love you the most.
–S.
This year was the crazy one. THAT year.
The one that you want to tuck into a box, put in your closet, and forget. And then miraculously only that part of your closet catches on fire and only that box gets burned. But then I would have to forget that I have never cried, laughed, or loved more.
That I stand a completely different person exiting this year, than I did entering it.
That I stood in front of a boy and willed him to love me. Then I had to will myself to let him go. That I stayed on every dance floor until the music stopped. That I memorized the way this city shines at night and the soundtrack my car speakers provided. That I let myself feel. That I let myself feel vulnerable. That I learned that we have to love certain people from a distance because we love ourselves more. That I bought a new vehicle. That I explored forgotten areas of Texas and fell in love with the hues of blue and green that can only be found here. That I learned the magic of privacy. That I finally learned the song the Texas breeze sings. That I stood in a ghost town completely alone. That I discovered my love for adventure. That I had to rely totally on myself. That I embarrassed myself and lived to tell it. That I made mistakes and people loved me through them. That I was able to find the little silver linings of humor in the dark days. That I cussed too much. That I perfected my just rolled out of bed look. That I was pushed completely out of my comfort zone and each instance turned out to be nothing that I could have imagined. That I ate way too many crab rangoons. That I made people laugh when I didn’t feel like laughing. That I gave a few chances too many and it showed that I still dared to hope. That I wanted to believe the best of certain people and it taught me to believe the best of my self. That the love I share with my parents took these losses, wins, lessons, experiences, and observations – duct taped and gorilla glued them back together and sent me right back out into the world.
This life is like nothing that I ever imagined at 7 with my glasses, which I didn’t need and made me look like Harry Potter. Or at 13, with awful awful awful bangs that I thought made me look like Hilary Duff. Or at 17, with aqua rubber bands in my braces.
It’s never what you think it will be. Because all we are able to really do is steer the wheel. Choose a street blindly and hope for the best. There are no lights to shine the way. Only yourself. The flickering light in the driver’s seat. And then the street dead ends on you. Anyway, it’s always a hell of a ride.
I wrote this when I was twenty-five.
I was fired from a Texas-based grocery store for attendance at 24. I was on my last strike and I spent the entire night fighting and crying with my now ex-boyfriend. I missed my alarm. Last strike and I was out.
Several days later I turned 25. Three days after my birthday, I’d spent the day celebrating my birthday with my then boyfriend, and drunkenly told him to fuck off causing him to actually fuck off and leave the bar. I don’t really remember what caused me to get pulled over. I know I didn’t hit anything with my car. I might have been on the wrong side of the road. My memories of this night are in bits and pieces. One piece flashes and looks like I was in some type of alley way with my car, but I do remember my heart dropping into my stomach and the red and blue lights. I remember my then boyfriend was still texting me to continue arguing over the phone. And I wrote back, I have to go, I just got pulled over.
This was me fucking off.
I was arrested for Driving While Intoxicated. I bombed the Field Sobriety Test, I never watched it when my lawyer received a copy for the recording. I blew double the legal limit. I spent the night in jail drunk and crying. Calling the wrong people to bail me out. Dehydrated and with the worst hangover/headache of my life, my boyfriend picks me up. He hands me water as soon as I get into the car. It was like coming up for air. I scarf down my Wendy’s meal like I haven’t eaten in days. I spend the night in my boyfriend’s arms unable to recognize myself. I face my parents in the light of day.
I go with my boyfriend to get my car out of the tow yard and to hire a lawyer. The lawyer tells me, “you’ve made your defense for me very difficult.” All I felt was guilt and loss and like a major fuck-up. And I was guilty. All the evidence pointed to it because I was guilty. I had been driving drunkenly. So, although my whole life was about to change in a major way, in a way it felt like not being able to to get out of this, was the proper penance for myself. It felt heartbreaking and RIGHT.
Several days after this, the man I could’ve spent my whole life loving, breaks up with me because I’ve changed too much.
I loved him through his lowest, and at the time it just felt like he couldn’t reciprocate the same for me. I lost something in myself that night. Although, DWIs are so common whether personal or someone you know, it took something human out of me. The last blow in a series of unfortunate events.
I spent that summer following all of the court ordered classes, fees, victim panels, and community service. I spent that summer trying to get my ex back. Jobless and legally not being able to drive, focusing on the wrong things. I spent that summer laying in bed at night wonder, hoping, wishing, praying. I spent that summer watching entire seasons of Grey’s Anatomy and the Walking Dead in one day.
My mother told me I was unrecognizable. Like I said, all of it, took something human out of me. Not just the DWI – all of it. Loss after loss after loss. I took so many L’s and it felt like there were no W’s/Wins on the horizon.
I was convicted 8 months after the arrest.
It was like the ending of the saddest chapter in a heart-wrenching book.
I tell people to stand in their truth.
So –
That’s my truth.
I stood in it.
I am standing in it.
–S.
I believe that you don’t have to be skinny to be beautiful. I believe that if you are not learning that you are dying. I believe in pulling all-nighters. Eating junk food when you are sad and moments that take your breath away. I believe in love at first sight. Cheap birthday cake and cupcakes. I believe in watching a TV show just because you can hear your father laugh. I believe in sleeping in all summer long. I believe that what your parents say cuts the deepest. The feeling right after a deep conversation. I believe in smiles that don’t go away because of a certain boy. Being famous is overrated. Daydreaming. Texting. Italian food. I believe that laughter is the way into a person’s heart and soul. I believe that there is beauty in everyone. I believe in happy endings. The innocence of a child. Long car rides with loud music. IHOP and mix cd’s that people burn for you. I believe that people should not be allowed to drift away from each other. I believe that the truth will set you free. I believe in best friends that know you better than you know yourself. I believe that love is worth waiting for. I believe in moments you would like to freeze, just so you can play them over and over again. I believe in movies that give you a new outlook on life. I believe that tears don’t show weakness, but just how strongly you felt for something at a certain point in your life. I believe that you cannot hate a person because you will never truly know everything about them. I believe that wars don’t fix things – they separate families. I believe in Bosnia. I believe in wishing on shooting stars or 11:11 just in case. I believe things that are meant to be – always find a way back to each other. The beauty in a summer day. The spirit of someone that passed away. Saving voicemails just to hear that person’s voice. I believe in people that bring out the best in you. First impressions are mostly never true. Wanting something you cannot have. Doing something that you would never do. The words said when no one is speaking. The love of a family that is world’s apart. Things that complete my heart.
Today – I’d like to believe I’m still the person who wrote this.
–S.
Eight Years Ago.
My brother was born the day before my father’s birthday.
For the last ten years, he’s been his greatest gift.
Every year, we make a party celebrating the both of them.
As I watched my parents this weekend – putting everything together, my mind drifted over the twenty-three different ways my birthday was celebrated over the years.
I always wanted more from my parents. The most expensive gift. More gifts. A better birthday cake. No homemade food, give me pizza. Give me a thousand different colored balloons. Get me a new birthday outfit. Every year should be better than the last.
I watched them clean the entire house. I watched them decorate it. I watched them prepare all of the food. I watched my mom make the cake. I watched them prepare the porch for the guests that were coming. I realized in all of these moments that I spent so much of my younger years wishing for more that I overlooked all of the present moments.
I never realized how hard they tried. I never appreciated the things that they did give.
I didn’t count the roof over my head as a gift. I didn’t care about their full-time jobs. I didn’t count the shoes on my feet and the clothes on my back.
I didn’t need a car on my sixteenth birthday or gold earrings from ‘Santa Claus.’
I needed to learn the art of appreciation.
If I could talk to a younger version of my self, I would help her to start appreciating mom and dad earlier. I would tell her to not allow it to take twenty some odd years to make certain realizations.
Start now.
They are amazingly complicated people in their own right, but breath deep and be patient.
Let them surprise you.
Time with them is the ultimate gift.
I’d tell her.
-S.
The Messy Middle 🖤 