Posted in Being Vulnerable

Growth check in

1. I am now able to eat dark chocolate every day and not over eat.

2. I am now able to run a half marathon.

3. I am getting comfortable crying. I have cried almost every day the past two weeks and I see this as an accomplishment of facing my emotions in a healthy way.

4. I am letting go of my insecurity about my butt.

5. I am opening up to my partner more and checking my ego when it gets triggered.

6. I have meditated for 18 days straight.

Posted in My Poetry

2 am thoughts

I woke up to the flame

The fire dancing between your fingers

You giggled as I stared

Scared you would burn

But you never did

You and him

Always knew how to play between the lines

How to push boundaries

Face fears

You both laughed in the face of danger

Ha

Ha

Ha

But I never did

Instead, I was your Zazu.

Scared of getting caught

Scared of getting burned

I toed the line

Until one day the line burred

And I became the flame

Posted in Being Vulnerable

Too afraid of the past

I wish I had kept my old instagram. I wish I hadn’t started over due to insecurity. I would delete posts or delete my accounts when I started dating someone new. I didn’t want them to visit my past. I didn’t want them to compare our present to my past. I wanted a clean slate. But now I look at people’s instagrams who have nothing deleted and I feel envious of them. I envy their confidence in their past decisions, something which took me a long time to learn. I now love when I see posts of people’s ex partner’s still on their page even though they’re married to someone else. To me, it shows honesty. Something I wish I knew more about back then.

Posted in Being Vulnerable

Joe Rogan podcast

“I let my trauma time travel.” – Jason Wilson

This episode has me feeling all the feels. Grown men, fathers, talking about their vulnerabilities always gets me teary. He told Joe, “Don’t let your trauma time travel.”

And don’t I know I do that. I not only let it time travel. I let it brood and take pieces of me. I drag it around with me like an anchor, yet never let it down when I get to shore. There is no shore. I just sail in circles brooding and shaking with anger.

But here is this grown man who has experienced a thousand more times the trauma than I have telling Joe to let it go.

It doesn’t serve you.

Stop bleeding and go get healed.

Life is more than just our pain.

Posted in Being Vulnerable

Journal 16

Just got this card in the mail.

He apologized for disowning me.

He’s never apologized to me before.

This is a first.

He always use to say I love you instead of I’m sorry.

They’re not the same.

And I’m glad he sees that now.

Thanks dad.

Posted in Being Vulnerable

Journal 10

So I’ve been called a sadist.

But I’d like to describe it more as

A controllist.

I like to believe I have the upper hand.

But what this person doesn’t know

Is this is my wall talking.

He doesn’t know I’m full of shit

He doesn’t see me crumble

in therapy

Or cry with joy from being loved for three years by the most forgiving man I’ve ever met.

He doesn’t know me.

He tried to pull that perceptive card,

But I’ve met his like before.

Confident on the outside

Insecure on the inside.

Like all of us.

So don’t tell me, you can read me.

Because I know you’re no fly on the wall.

You’re just like every other psychology cock sucker thinking you’re the next Freud.

So bye boy.

Posted in Being Vulnerable

Journal 3

I sit here with my flat white thinking of last night.

I almost cried listening to Jocko Willink’s motivational speech on discipline equals freedom.

He asked questions like,

You want free time? That takes time discipline. You want more saved in the bank? That takes financial discipline.

And the whole time he was saying this I kept thinking of my dad and how he taught me the same thing. He didn’t word it that way, but he did teach me discipline at a very young age. And I feel like I get it now. He wasn’t being a hard ass just because he likes power. He was being a hard ass because he wanted me to be free when I was older.

I always thought I wasn’t enough for him because he would criticize everything I did, but really he just didn’t want my expectations to be too low. Because low expectations don’t offer freedom.

And then I thought about how forgiving my dad is. And how even after I called the cops on him this year, he still is seeking a relationship with me.

That’s more than some daughters get.

Though he never says, sorry.

I know he is

Because he wouldn’t keep coming back to me if he wasn’t.