Category: cry

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The Prophecy

“And it was written

I got cursed like Eve got bitten

Oh, was it punishment?”

-Taylor Swift

Most people learn about themselves as teens, and make the big mistakes in their 20s. Unfortunately, I didn’t have that privilege, I was sheltered from a young age and I couldn’t move from that for a very long time. For example, I wasn’t allowed to have or be at sleepovers. The first time my mother allowed me to go to a sleepover was when I was 16-17. These were people I knew since I was 12-13, but it took heavy convincing, and I was never allowed to have one at our house. My mother thinks this is why I’m always angry at her which is fucking laughable. My anger is due to her tone deaf comments, insensitivity, her emotional unavailability, which have never subsided, and by the way, she thinks that her helping me with homework as a child was her going above and beyond? I wish I was kidding, anyway.

She’s also very religious so she didn’t want me to be influenced by non-Christians, and it didn’t matter if they practiced another religion, for her they were all wrong because Protestantism is the one true religion (she’s changed her tune since then). I wished she was right, I wished that it was drugs or alcohol, or reckless sex, but it wasn’t (because she’d be right), it was sleepovers, movie nights, going to the movie theatre, and listening to all kinds of music, that’s what me and my friends did that she didn’t allow me to do for a long time. On this note, she says that I was a good Christian girl until I was brainwashed in college, again, not exaggerating.

I have always craved having a mother that I could tell things to, I remember being jealous of my friends because they had a close relationship with their moms. Throughout my life I have tried including my mother, only for every time I do, she reminds me why I don’t. I remember being a teen and telling a friend of mine that I liked him, I shared that with my mother after the fact, I was like 18, her reaction to that? “Carolyn, men don’t like women that, women that are forward. You need to wait for them to make the first move.” When I was 27, she told me I ruined her Christmas when I told her I got a nose piercing, I was well out of her house by then, now she recants.

“Please

I’ve been on my knees

Change the prophecy

Don’t want money

Just someone who wants my company

Let it once be me

Who do I have to speak to

About if they can redo the prophecy?”

So you see, on one hand I was struggling (mostly alone) with the idea that no man would ever like me because of my personality (thanks mom) and on the other, I have always been fat, so I also thought no one would like me because “who likes fat girls?” (thanks society). A perfect combination for a fucking mess. Moving out of her house gave me the space to start figuring out who I am. What I like, what I don’t like. This proved to be surprisingly hard. Turns out that even though I hadn’t practiced Christianity for years at that point, everything they taught me, all the things I had heard at church in my formative years had taken a very deep hold on me. Intellectually I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong, and I wasn’t, but emotionally, I felt bad about those things.

“Slow is the quicksand

Poison blood from the wound of the pricked hand

Oh, still I dream of him”

All this story is a precursor, a summary if you will, so you understand why it took me so long to find myself, to like myself and to actually believe someone would want and like me.

I had to make conscious choices to change that way of thinking. There’s not a manual to guide you through it. Hating your body and thinking people won’t love you, makes it really hard to find someone, because if you hate yourself, how is someone else supposed to love it? Daniel Sloss has a great analogy where he says that if you love yourself 20% and someone comes in to love you 40%, you think that’s a lot, but it is literally less than half. But if you love yourself 100%, someone has to go above and beyond to love you (It’s from his special Jigsaw on Netflix).

So relatively recently I made it, about two years ago I hopped back on dating apps, matched with someone who seemed to be into me, that kind of pushed me to want to look better, dress better, I wanted to impress him you know? I shouldn’t have made all that effort for that person, BUT all the progress I made, feeling better about myself, actually liking me for once, didn’t go away when that ended, which I’m very glad for. Around the same time I had started CrossFit, if nothing else that gave me a boost of confidence for trying things out of my comfort zone. And I haven’t stopped since. All those cute clothes I used to think I couldn’t wear, I have worn, even lingerie, I started liking myself in the body I had.

“…I howl like a wolf at the moon

And I look unstable

Gathered with a coven around a sorcerer’s table”

Simultaneously, I stopped thinking men couldn’t like me. I found that there is actually a bunch that do (whether they’re good for me or not, is a whole other story lol). Unfortunately, every time one didn’t work, I’d find myself reverting to unhealed me and wondered if I had really healed. Because I’d find myself wondering what was wrong with me. I didn’t, and sometimes still don’t, understand why they didn’t work or why I keep crossing paths with the wrong people. In retrospect, I know that before I couldn’t really attract people, not because I wasn’t attractive but because putting myself down isn’t really attractive, I’d tell guys I liked them by saying some variation of “I know you don’t like me, but I do” and remembering that makes me ugh. But now, I was in such a good place, I made so many changes to myself and felt very good about me, how I looked, how I was portraying myself, I was emanating confidence. People took notice, yes, but still I’d get “you’re too good for me/you deserve someone better”, there still wasn’t anyone that liked me, that would fight to keep me in their life, so I wondered if all that work was worth it. I didn’t do the work for anyone other than myself but fuck, I still wanted people to notice. I still wanted to hear someone cared about me, I wanted to know what it felt like to be loved by someone.

“I’m so afraid I sealed my fate

No sign of soulmates

I’m just a paperweight

In shades of greige

Spending my last coin so someone will tell me

It’ll be okay”

As a child when I played with my Barbies, they’d get married at around 22 so they could have at least two babies before they were 25. That was learned, a product of my environment. As a teen I grew up disliking the gender roles my mother clung badly (and the ones she taught us). What I never accounted for was that my Barbies didn’t have careers, they just had their houses and cars just because. At 22 I was in my fourth year of my undergraduate degree (finished at 23), then at 25 I was working on my doctorate degree, which I finished at 28. Two degrees under 30. A Latina woman, in STEM, first woman in her family to finish a doctorate degree, second member overall. Who is working in her field. A woman that is many things, kind, thoughtful, wears her heart on her sleeve, gives a lot of herself and will go to the ends of the heart for those she cares about. Yet, she still feels inadequate. I figured once I finished grad school all the chips would fall where they needed, and they haven’t. I am still working through the fact that changing opinions is more than saying you don’t believe something anymore, you have to go in and put in the work, if you don’t all those things you used to believe will come back and bite you in the ass. That Barbie story, even though I don’t believe that I should have (or even could have) had a child at 22, I feel I’m behind, I am finding I haven’t actively changed that thought. I am a fucking doctor who feels hasn’t accomplished anything, make it make fucking sense. That just goes to show what the emphasis on success I was taught by my parents and society, ironically for a long time my mother was a single hardworking woman. I have to redefine my expectations on life, which I hadn’t reevaluated (I hadn’t realized), I don’t have a Time Machine.

I’m starting to make my peace with the fact that it might never work for me. That I have to be perfectly content being the single aunt, that has pets, and travels the world. But I do want the black picket fence, the kids, that suburban life. Will I get that? I don’t know. I do know that I can’t put my life on hold waiting for that, I have to live my life to the fullest, I have to make myself happy in whatever situation I am. Otherwise a lifetime will have passed me by and I would have only been miserable.


Some days I wake up with hope. Not because things are looking bright —they’re still looking bleak but I get glimmers of hope. I deserve good things, I deserve to be loved, cared for, looked after, I deserve to be first choice, and hopefully affirming those to myself will manifest them to life.

As Always,

With Love,

Carolyn

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Spain: Motherland Part II

Next stop in my Toledo tour was The Primate Cathedral of Saint Mary of Toledo. Like I’ve said before, I love going to Cathedrals, I love vaulted ceilings, which places like this have enough of, they also have stained glass. And pipe organs. But look at all that art, all the details (in gold and marble looks like).

That night was my birthday eve and I went to a bar crawl, I was having a lot of fun, visited several bars, it was about 2AM, I had enough, and decided to go home. I get an Uber, and as I’m waiting for it, I stop at a nearby food place, and in a crowded street, a guy starts harassing me, I tell him no, move away from him, but he walks into me, I push him away, I thought that was the end of it, when I realize I don’t have my phone, I had just used it to pay for the food, so I go back to the food place to check I didn’t leave it, it’s not there, then I realize I had to have put it on my coat pocket and the guy stole it. I tried to see if I saw him and he was gone. I started freaking out, wasn’t sure how I’d go back to the Airbnb, because, my cards were also attached to my phone. A guy on the street told me to calm down but I couldn’t, I was in a foreign city, far from my airbnb, with no knowledge on how I’d get back. So I did the only thing I could think of, which was go back to the bar and try to find the group I was with so I could try to get in touch with my dad, so he could block my phone. The bar crawl guide wasn’t super helpful apart from letting me borrow his phone to talk to my dad (didn’t help me getting back to my airbnb) but three people I met two hours before offered help, one guy even told me to log into my apple account from his phone so we could track mine, and he’d go to get my phone, but in the stress of it I couldn’t remember my password. The girl helped me breathe, told me that everyone’s gone through that, to which I responded I hadn’t, so she said “well, now you have”, which wasn’t funny then, but it is now. After using her phone to get in touch with my dad, he blocked my phone, and deletes everything from it. I always use my GPS to get around a foreign city, I don’t usually remember the address of where I am staying, for some reason, I remembered the address of this Airbnb, I don’t know how, but the why was so I could get back. The third guy got cash and paid for a cab for me to get back. I get back to my Airbnb, and from my watch I text a friend of mine that has an iPhone, he helps me with communication between me and my dad, since my dad doesn’t have an iPhone I can’t call him through the watch. At the Airbnb, and as I’m talking to my friend about what happened, I started having an anxiety attack. I didn’t even eat my food until it was cold. By then I had lost all appetite. I was going to attempt to get my iPhone replaced in Madrid, that morning I was meant to check out, so my friend sends me the address of the closest Apple Store, I walk there that morning with all my shit. I am on high alert and on edge, so much that I snapped at a lady on the street trying to sell me flowers, she got too close and it triggered me. I got to the Apple Store but unfortunately I couldn’t change my phone there as it was from another country (Apple might have changed that policy now), so I went to a phone store nearby and got a new phone, oh, remember I said he stole my cards too? Thankfully I had ONE on me, I never use debit cards on international trips so he just stole my credit cards, which was unfortunate, but I had a debit card, which I used for the remainder of this trip. The fucking phone cost me more than an iPhone replacement and it is the single most shitty phone ever. It was literally easier to open instagram, take a picture, download it than opening the phone app. I swear. Also the quality of pictures was shitty so bear with me the rest of the trip’s pics.

My last stop in Madrid was my dear Santiago Bernabeu, the home of Real Madrid. It was under construction, but it was still pretty majestic.

I got to see the stadium where a lot of my favorite stars had played at, where football history has been made. Unfortunately for me, they we playing away games when I was in Madrid, so I couldn’t see them, I think they had played as locals the week before and they’d be playing there the following week, so in short, bad timing.

That afternoon I took a train to Barcelona, another fast train, a 385 mile trip, roughly 6hrs driving took around 3hrs aboard the train, and it’s weird? It’s going really fast but you barely notice it, even as they travel around 186mph. I don’t have pictures of the interim because all the down time I had waiting at the train station, and on the train I spent setting the fucking phone, and calling credit card companies to cancel my cards, calling Apple to report the phone as stolen, which fun fact, when you’re calling from a Spanish number, it redirects you to a the Spanish brand EVEN if you’re calling the US number, so I had to get them to redirect me several times. All that process was SUPER fun. I think I slept some on the train but not much and even if I had slept the whole way it wasn’t a long trip. Anyway, I get to my Barcelona Airbnb, late, around 9 or 10pm, I think, tired as fuck. I shower and fall asleep as soon as I can, I was supposed to go to a bar crawl in Barcelona that night (birthday night), however I skipped it because, well, hadn’t slept for over 24hrs. And because I’m a masochist bitch, I had scheduled a tour of the Camp Nou the following morning at like 10AM, so I didn’t have lots of time to sleep if I went out.

For my football fans, specially those familiar with Real Madrid’s and Barcelona’s rivalry, I know, okay, I know, however, I was in Barcelona, there was no way I’d miss the stadium, and unlike Santiago Bernabeu they weren’t under construction and had a very thorough museum. If I took a photo of the stadium it’s lost in the shitty android Spanish phone (very sad). They had replicas of Messi’s Ballon D’or, several of them in fact, and I think he donated one of them so it was the real thing. If you keep scrolling, you can see the stadium, in several views, the entrance the players use to enter the field, and there’s a chapel in that tunnel as well.

I stopped at the Barça café and had a little coffee, which, cute.

So okay, this is the key of the Airbnb I stayed at, I had to be taught how to use it because I could lock anyone inside if I locked it a certain way, so essentially when I walked out, I’d just close the door and it was locked.

I asked the Airbnb person for a spot to watch the game Barça was playing that day –I had figured if I couldn’t watch Real Madrid, at least I could see FCB in person, but because I have shit luck, they were also playing an away game… so I figured the next best thing was to go watch them play at a bar, with locals, and indeed was the best thing. I got a mojito, mozzarella sticks, but that wasn’t even the best thing. You know how as an English speaker, the English or Australian accent is hot? Well Spanish accent is that for my ears, you see the girl in front of me, the guy she was with did the most Spanish thing ever and said something along the lines “joder tío” (roughly translated to “fuck dude”), when a player missed a goal, I swear I almost squealed. Barcelona lost that game against Almeria, 1-0, so the fans were not happy. It was unfortunate but regardless the atmosphere was on-point.

Part II consisted of days three and four, so I will finish this trip on a third blog as to not make it overly long and bore you to death. But for your information, the last leg of the trip was excellent it’s soooooo worth it to stay tuned.

As Always,

With Love,

Carolyn

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This is me trying

“I’ve been having a hard time adjusting… I have a lot of regrets about that.”

-Taylor Swift

I had never seen a therapist until a good friend of mine passed away back in 2017, and I was in a foreign city, by myself with no support system. Since then I understood the importance of talking things through with someone that can help. I’m a therapist’s dream, I talk so fucking much.

Unfortunately finding a good one is hard, I changed therapists twice because I felt I wasn’t getting anything from it, she just listened and never challenged me or helped me understand things. After searching I found one I loved, only to have her change jobs and unfortunately does not see patients anymore. So the search for a new one was an uphill battle but I made it.

I think it was match made in heaven because for one, she’s named like one character from my favorite show. She listens when she needs to but she also makes me think about things. In the time we’ve known each other I feel she’s gotten a good sense of who I am as a person, like I’ll walk in and she senses my mood is off asks me if need a hug, and she never misses.

“And maybe I don’t quite know what to say

But I’m here in your doorway

I just wanted you to know

This is me trying”

I went to her about this whole ordeal with Jack (if you missed my previous two blog posts go here and here), she said she has never seen me that down (my friend said the same thing), that’s just me overwhelmed by life, this situation with Jack isn’t exactly making things better, on top of that the pottery studio I’ve been throwing clay is closing (I’ll talk about this at a later time), which is a new hobby where I had the space to channel some time and energy into, all of it feels like the end of the world.

I know that’s not necessarily true and it’s just one of those when it rains it pours kind of situations and it’s hard to control the emotions when you feel problems coming back to back with no end in sight. That’s why I have been channeling some of that stress into the gym, working out for longer, my body is exhausted about the extra work but the dopamine really helps ground me.

Until I sat down that day, all my therapist knew was that I had some fun with Jack who I had gone out on a date with months prior, and that that was all it was, fun. I updated her on the realization I had that I wanted more than that because how he made me feel. I showed her conversations between the two of us and she thinks he could be thinking things through, I did spring brand new information on him and maybe he can’t make the switch that quick (plus he started seeing someone, fuck my life) — which is fair. I’m at a point in my life where if you’re not sure of me, I’ll just fuck off, I have no time for someone unsure of me, but for this, for him, I am making an exception. Why? Because I said no first, I was unsure first, I came around and hopefully he will too, but I don’t know that, I am not necessarily waiting as much as I’m letting time pass. If he comes around and the feelings are still there, we pursue things, if they’re not then we don’t or maybe he never comes around. That’s the shitty thing about life, there is a lot of uncertainty.

“And it’s hard to be at a party when

I feel like an open wound

It’s hard to be anywhere these days

when all I want is you”

As I sat down on her couch, I told her I’d be hugging a cushion and holding onto the tissue box, I’ve cried on her couch before, but I think this is the first time I’ve walked in teared up and had a hard time getting coherent words out. She listened, then gave her advice. I blamed myself for the situation I found myself in with Jack, if I had just seen him last year like I am now, maybe we could have had a good relationship, instead I concerned myself with thinking I knew what would happen if we dated. At the time I was heartbroken and I was trying to avoid feeling that way again, so I skipped it altogether. Big mistake, because I was now regretting it.

The thought that keeps playing around in my head is that if that asshole made me lose out on a great person, I’d be so upset, Peter left me very heartbroken, it took months and a lot of situations for me to get over it. I am often told “what’s for you won’t pass you by” and that may be true but it’s never helped the uncertainty or given me comfort. I never thought I’d see Jack that way, not because of who he is, just because of who I was. Who I was changed, so I changed how I saw him. And because life is shitty, the timing’s off.

A big thing that’s fucking me up big time is that Jack is someone I vent to, when something’s shitty, when work stresses me out, when a date goes wrong, and he’ll make a joke to try to make me feel better, or be sweet and tell me it’s going to be okay that one day we’ll find someone who’s crazy about us. You know the shitty thing about liking a friend? You kind of lose them, the relationship changes, he’s there for me but I can’t exactly be a good friend to him can I? Specially when he’s seeing someone. Add to that that he can’t read a room for shit because I was clear on not wanting to know anything about who he’s seeing and after a “how are you?” text, he tells me he’s driving home from a city about an hour from him, and that prompted me to ask “what’s there?”, and he replies with “the girl I’m seeing”. Cue tears and regrets aiming to overwhelm me again.

I did all I could do with Jack, as in, I told him how I felt, I was direct (and naughty) about it, just so he knew I meant business, so he knew that I wasn’t just smitten —because I’m not, so he knew that I was a damn fool for missing him the first time around. I was clear so he knew I wanted him. After that, there’s not much I can do. Ball’s in his court. All I can do is sit back and stress about it, if you know anything about me is I can’t sit back and relax.

Just before I left the session, my therapist gave me homework, she asked me to make a list of five things as to why this situation with Jack is not all my fault. I felt attacked so my response was “me? take the blame for everything? NoOOo.” We laughed, because it’s exactly what I do and what I’m doing right now. She said that relationship (whether, that’s friends, between a therapist and a patient, romantic, etc.) stuff doesn’t all fall on one person, it falls on both. So I had to sit down to ponder, why isn’t it all my fault? It certainly feels like it, we went out, had a great time, and I didn’t give it time, we didn’t see each other in person again for me to know if we should or should not pursue things, I just made a decision based on little information.

But the question remained in my head. The first thing I thought of was that I didn’t know and to be honest, still don’t know, if he was/is into me. Having fun together means nothing in this regard, many women (and men) make that mistake, something can just be physical and not mean anything more than that. If I’m being quite honest it didn’t mean much to me either, it was just a good time, it just happened that it took that for me to realize I wanted more but it wasn’t due to one good time. I remember his sweet text after I told him I didn’t/couldn’t pursue things further and thinking maybe I made a mistake. He flirted more with me after we called it off than during. In his words “If I’m being quiet and awkward I’m actually trying to figure out how to flirt” —which was all of our date if I’m being honest (remember this is the guy that shook my hand after our date). I want to think that if I knew he was into me, I would have thought twice before calling it off. I wouldn’t think I’m one to reject someone I think is cute even if I wasn’t feeling yet at the time. I also have to think about how our first date went, it was something like me asking if he was ever going to ask me out and within the hour we were out at a bar, but after that he didn’t ask me out, so I didn’t think the interest was there. Could I be wrong? Yes. Could I have asked him? Yes. So how is it really not my fault? I don’t know.

This is what my list looks like:

  1. I didn’t know if he was interested in me
  2. He didn’t initiate dates
  3. I don’t know
  4. I really think it’s my fault
  5. I don’t know if my therapist is right on this one

I don’t think I know more than she does but it’s hard to see it any other way. But I’m also in the midst of it so I understand not seeing it from someone else’s point of view.

Regret is a very painful thing, on the one hand, Jack deserves someone who cares for him and if the person he’s seeing is that person, then I’ll be happy for him, and my feelings will go away, but on the other hand, I’m mad/sad/jealous that that person is not me. How can I tell him that I’m happy for him with a straight face when I don’t mean it? I do but I don’t.

Can I just wish upon a start? Or make my 11:11 wish that he sees me like I see him?

Will it work? Probably not.

As always,

With love,

Carolyn

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The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived and Back to November Part II

“So this is me swallowing my pride, standing in front of you, saying I’m sorry for that night and I go back to December all the time.”

-Taylor Swift

Summary from Part I: dated an asshole, Peter, and met Jack, a very sweet guy who I only wanted as friend a the time for superficial reasons on my end. We talked about having sex and I ended up at his place.

Jack and I discussed beforehand of what was/wasn’t allowed. We talked why we wanted to go through with it with the other, my answer was simple, I trust you, and we can have some fun, his was “I like to help my friends” (asshole lmao). I got to his place, brought snacks, got acquainted with each other again, it had been about seven months since we had seen each other in person.

We bantered while hanging out on the couch, I played with his dog who likes to fetch, and LOVES butt scratches. His cat made an occasional appearance. His place was clean and organized which is a green flag for me, and even has flowers on his counter top, I gave him shit about it but I secretly liked it.

Every step of the way, he respected my yes and my no, it felt good, I felt calm, comfortable, I wasn’t anxious, or stressed. We laughed so much through it, I’d say it felt like it wasn’t the first time. All of that, the respect, kindness, gentleness, making me feel comfortable, was new. Something underrated that I wasn’t expecting to like or enjoy that much? Jack moved me like I weighted nothing, I fucking swear I felt like a feather, holy shit. Last guy I went out with (Peter) I was full of anxiety, I never felt calm, I thought the anxiety was my brain thinking I wasn’t good enough for him, and it was me fighting against those feelings. In hindsight I learned that my anxiety was my nervous system telling me he wasn’t my person or good enough for me.

“So if the chain is on your door, I understand.”

Sharing this experience with a friend of mine, she asked “why don’t you date Jack? If he has all the qualities you’re looking in someone?” I regurgitated the original reasoning I had made seven months prior, I hadn’t updated that thought of why not, we wouldn’t work out, period. He and I had had the conversation before. But this time, it was different, the question reverberated inside my brain. “Why don’t I date him?” I pondered on it, thought of his kindness the months following our date, through my failed dates, the death of my childhood dog, or any time I felt crappy, he’d send me funny snaps, in hopes of cheering me up. And it worked. He makes me laugh, makes me roll my eyes when he keeps teasing, he annoys the heck out of me on a daily basis. But he also grounds me, makes me feel calm, respected, protected, and safe.

When I went out with him for the first time, I had been dumped a month prior by someone who I felt all the fireworks for. I didn’t with Jack, I thought that was a bad thing, but now I know that’s what I’m craving, peace and calmness. I don’t need the fireworks, all that’s ever done for me is put my nervous system on high alert. I’ve had enough of that, and what I need now is calm and security.

The day after we hung out, he told me his ex reached out, saying she missed him. So we paused our adventure. I wasn’t thrilled. As a matter of fact I was upset about her terrible timing, plus she broke up with him in the shittiest way ever and now she misses him? Pleaseeee. As neutral as I could be, knowing it benefited me but wanting to be careful, I told him he shouldn’t. He deserves someone who sees him and respects him and she’s not it. He knew but he was still on the fence.

We made plans to see each other on a Friday night, for movie and food at his place. Only once I got there, it ended up being me watching the movie alone because he fell asleep, and slept on me for part of it. Apparently, sleeping between my legs and using my thigh as a cushion is very comfortable. I stroked his hair and none of this felt weird, uncomfortable, I swear it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Hours later he apologized for falling asleep, and I left so he could actually sleep and not wake up every thirty minutes.

And I pondered. And pondered. Fuck, how did I miss it? How the fuck did I miss it? I missed it because he doesn’t fit the box of what my person looks like, I missed it because I was hung up on someone else, I missed it because I wasn’t expecting to feel a certain way about him. I missed it because I didn’t feel the fireworks with him, which is what I thought I should feel for someone I wanted to date. And it snuck up on me, I want to date him, I want him for myself, I want his strong arms around me, I want to him to throw me around as if I was as light as a feather, maybe we don’t work out or maybe we do, but I won’t know until I go through with it.

“Maybe this is wishful thinking

Probably mindless dreaming

But if we loved again,

I swear I’d love you right”

Since his ex coming back was recent I decided to wait. It really wouldn’t work if he was hung up on someone. One day I ask him if he told her to kick rocks, he tells me they’re done, subsequently by telling me he’s met someone that seems into him. And my world shattered. Fuck. And I didn’t want to let the opportunity pass me again so I told him how I felt. He questioned it. Which is fair. I told him we were better off as friends several times in the past, that we wouldn’t work. I wasn’t expecting him to drop everything for me, but I thought he’d consider it. In the nicest way ever his response was a “not now”. Which of course means I have to get over it and move on because I can’t wait on a maybe and I told him as much.

I have no idea what he feels about my sudden confession, does he hate me? Is he glad? Does he want me to go back to no feelings? I don’t know, he chose to keep his cards close to his chest on this one. Maybe he’s really feeling this new person and is trying to protect me? I do not know. All I know is that it is not happening right this second, I just hope the universe doesn’t put us in a situation where he’s there and I’m not and we keep missing each other.

I don’t usually regret but I fear this time the regret will eat me alive. I had the opportunity to coincide with a great person and I let him go. I had to find a venue in which to channel all the energy I suddenly had and had nowhere to put, so I chose the gym, I’m already a gym rat but I’m doing extra credit, I found out that dopamine really helps with stress. For the foreseeable future that extra credit is what will help me keep my sanity, either until my feelings go away or he changes his mind, something will give, I do not know which one though.

And if you’re reading this, thank you, you’ve been a constant for me these past few months, you make me laugh when I feel bad, you send me silly little videos, or cute doggy and kitty videos, or maybe you’re just your annoying self which makes me roll my eyes or those flirty videos that make me want to drop everything and step into your doorstep. I feel that regardless of what happens, we’ll be standing at the end of the tunnel, laughing at something silly you said.

If nothing else, this was a lesson, to not judge a book by its cover, your person doesn’t necessarily look like you think they will and you should be open to what life brings your way. But also that you won’t necessarily feel the butterflies and that is okay, butterflies doesn’t mean good or lack of them means bad. Calm is good.

That’s the story on how I went from wanting the smallest man who ever lived to wanting to go back to November to make it all right.

As always,

With Love,

Carolyn

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The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived and Back to November Part I

“Who the fuck was that guy?” -Taylor Swift

I tend to pride myself on not having regrets. The usual way I approach things is that I did the best I could with the information I had and there’s no need to regret things. Because of that I’m the type of person that decides to go for it, just so she doesn’t regret it later. I’m a firm believer in “you regret the things you didn’t do more than the ones you did”.

I think it’s worked out for me so far… until now anyway.

Last year I started seeing someone (Electric Touch dude, let’s call him Peter), I felt he was way out of my league, cute, tall, and green eyes. He seemed into me, stole kisses and touches here and there. I thought it was the start of a beautiful relationship. Newsflash, it wasn’t. In the words of Queen Swift: “I don’t even want you back I just want to know, if rusting sparkling summer was the goal”. It was arguably one of the hardest thing I’ve had to get over. This time I hadn’t imagined a whole relationship with someone based on nothing, I hadn’t thought they liked me, this time he said he did, he said he’d catch me, and when push came to shove, he didn’t. I was “too much”, where have I heard that before? Hmm.

There’s a saying we use in Puerto Rico “un clavo no saca otro clavo” which says that a nail cannot drive out another nail —what it refers to is that you can’t heal from a broken heart by going out with someone else. But that’s (kind of) what I did —or tried to.

I hyperfixate, and being hurt I wasn’t able to think about anything else and wanted something else to occupy my mind. I thought if I got myself out there it would help. I was —and am, on a quest to date outside of the imaginary box I built of how my person is supposed to look like, which is typically tall, lean, and light-skinned (I know okay? That’s been a running joke with my friends that I like generic white boys and I even get “these white men are dangerous” memes from them 😂). Most of everyone that I’ve gone out on dates with fits this description.

One day I am scrolling through dating apps and I come across this profile, let’s call him Jack, and I think that he’s cute, has a cute dog, likes cats —I liked all of those, it’s particularly hard to find a man that likes both cats and dogs. Has tattoos, and lifts. It was hard to tell from the pictures but he seemed to be a big guy which is not something I usually go for but I wanted to give it a shot. We went out one night, played pool, he gave me shit about something, and we spend a lot of time laughing. He came to the date with joggers, a green hoodie, and sandals with socks, while I wore an extra high waisted jean, and a felt/see through bodysuit, with makeup and earrings. I’m pretty sure he beat me in pool. We walked out of the bar to my car, I think I was giving him shit about his height, about being shorter than me, and to prove he wasn’t, he placed his phone against something, put a timer and stood behind me for a picture (does he still have that picture? I don’t know). I thought he was going to kiss me at the end of the date, I was nervous, but he shook my hand and hugged me. SHOOK MY HAND. I still give him shit about that.

The date was fun one, we seemed to kind of click. But once I got home, I bursted into tears. I clearly was not over Peter, and I knew that, I just didn’t realize it was going to hit me that bad. As I kept talking about Jack to my friend, she thought he and I wouldn’t work, I made sure to pay attention, particularly because of how on-point she was about Peter, ultimately about two weeks later I realized she was right. On top of that, Jack wanted to date and I didn’t feel ready for that. So, I let him know I had a good time but I didn’t think we should pursue things further.

Jack is such a sweet and kind person that all he told me was that it was okay and we should be friends. He said (and I quote): “you’re a very intelligent and strong willed woman and I’d love to keep talking to you”. And that’s what we did. I went onto date other people as he did.

We’d talk about people we were dating. Giving each other advice. One thing we always did was flirt. Exclusively when we weren’t in relationships, and if they crapped out, we’d resume, but we were always respectful to the partners. It was just playful banter. I didn’t seen him since we went on that date, but we kept in touch, we’d Snapchat, and even video chatted once. We had been playing around with the idea of having sex, we were both single, and trusted each other so why not? This time it turned into a serious conversation and I ended up at his place.

This is story is not over — it’s just paused, I didn’t want to lose you over a long ass blog post, so stay tuned for Part II.

As always,

With Love,

Carolyn

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Strong, Independent woman?

Strong, Independent woman?

I have a short fun story for y’all. It’s been a challenging few months. I’ve had to work with the former friend I’ve mentioned in previous posts (that I’m pretty sure hates me at this point) and his roommate/buddy, who, in all fairness, is not the best person either. On my end, we can work. We don’t need to like each other, we just need to work. But they are being pieces of shit, not responding to emails, complaining all the freaking time (this coming from me, the queen of complaining), instead of, you know, looking for ways to solve the stuff they’re complaining about in the first place. My favorite part is the snide comments about how I could be doing my job better. So, let’s backtrack to Monday. We had a deadline for Wednesday, the day a big presentation was due. Stuff wasn’t working out, we were troubleshooting, things looked like shit, which they complained about, but did nothing to fix. Enter me. I tried to do something that I had never done before in my job, in order to be able to show a good thing for the presentation. On Tuesday, when I checked it, it still looked like shit. In my defense, I hurt my foot (again), I was tired and in pain, and again, I’ve never done the thing before. If it had worked out from the first try, I would be a freaking goddess.

Anyway, I was putting out all sorts of fires from stuff they didn’t do and neglecting my own work in the process (yay, right?). It’s 1 pm, I’m about to get into my car to get lunch, and guess what? My car doesn’t start. The starter seems to be working, but it’s not turning on, I’ll call roadside assistance after I’m finished for the day, I thought. And I had to get back to work, so I left the car there (make note that I haven’t had lunch yet), and walked down the hill. Now, you know how I said I had a bad foot? It hurts like hell and I’m also wearing an ankle brace, which limits my mobility, and to walk down the hill there are a thousand stairs 🙂. So, of course it took me forever to get there and my ankle was not happy. While all of this was happening, I call my dad again, I told him what I was doing and that I wanted to cry so much. I’m a crier, but normally in situations like these, that are easily fixable, I think about what to do and I do it. But so much was going on with the horrible coworkers and now my car. His response was very man/dad: Don’t cry. Like dad, yeah, that doesn’t help either.

I had to be back around 3.30pm for a meeting, I ask the person I work with if I could get a ride up the hill. Once I’m back in the office for the meeting, they’re sorting all types of last minutes logistics for this very important presentation. My sole work there at the moment is wait for the presentation to be done to burn it into a CD… yes, a CD… because even though the presentation is made for a shit ton of money, they still can’t afford high enough security for presentations to be done with a flash drive or similar devices… At around 4.45, I’m finishing burning the CD, and it seems to be having trouble. My boss tells me to meet him down the building while he gets the rental car. I went down the elevator and waited. I thought he was taking too long, I got my stuff from upstairs and walked to my car. I called roadside assistance and shortly after my boss calls me and tells me that he’s halfway picking up someone, and that he forgot about the damn CD. N0w, it’s 5.10… what was the first thing that passed through my mind? How I just lost roughly two hours. I could have called roadside assistance at 3.30 when I was done with work, I would have eaten something and be home short after.

5.20 – Roadside assistance arrives, jump starts the car, I get food, I head home and I park. I turned the car on and it was working, I ate in the car and twenty minutes later the car doesn’t start again. Through all of this, I have been calling my dad back and forth, I know about cars, but he knows more than I do. He tells me to go get a new battery. Before doing so, I check that the poles are not corroded, hence not giving out enough amperage for the car to start, but it doesn’t work. I go to my apartment and decide to deal with it the following day. But then, I remember that I want to go to home early and the closest place to get a battery opens at 9am, and I get to work by 8am. I decide to check where to get the battery and determine that the cheapest one is in a place by my house. Now, they close at 8pm, it’s 6.50 now and it’s a twenty-one minute walk. I get dressed… again. I bought the battery online with a nice discount before going out, I walk out with my tools, and start taking out the battery, I took out the poles, but there was one screw I didn’t know it had and it was proving hard to pull. When the tool I was using fell, I couldn’t see where it landed 🙂. My eyes watered, luckily I had another tool, smaller, that fit a lot better than the previous one. Now it was 7.20. A few minutes after, I took the screw, the battery and placed it in a cart, put everything away and started walking towards the parts retailer.

I tried to get someone that I knew that lives close by to give me a ride (the 21-minute walk would have turned to a 3-minute car drive), but there was no answer. So, like a strong independent woman, I walked. The funny thing about Americans is that they can see you struggling and no one will stop to help… But that’s not the same as almost being run over. I was about to cross at a crosswalk, I looked to both sides, there’s a car coming from my right but it’s far enough that I can cross and there’s a stop sign, so the person, in theory, should stop. As I’m in the middle of the crosswalk I noticed with my peripheral vision that the car is not stopping. I stopped there and the lovely woman stopped her car a foot and a half away from me, she looked to her left to see if she could make a right and DID NOT SEE ME. SHE ALMOST HIT ME AND SHE DIDN’T EVEN SEE ME. LIKE, WHAT THE HELL?! I cursed at the wind with my dad on the phone and just kept on walking.

Shortly after, I got to the store… at 7.53 (they closed at 8.) I got my battery, recycled the old one and I headed back for another 21-minute walk, which I think was a little more because of my bad foot. I got almost run over… again (!) by a driver in a hurry, who couldn’t wait for me to fully cross. And while yes, I was taking the battery in a cart, you have to remember that it’s a 40-lbs battery being pushed in a metal cart on an uneven sidewalk and road. On the way back I was on the phone with my best friend, while sharing my live location with her because it was dark by then. I got home around 7.30, installed the battery, found the tool that fell, put everything back into place and ran around the block to give the battery time to settle.

And that’s how bad planning plus egocentric human beings make for a hilariously sad story.

Carolyn

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Live and learn

Live and learn

Life is short. You have to be able to laugh at our pain or we never move on.

Jeff Ross

I am a very energetic person. I will sing and dance at a public place, even though I am not good at either one. While I will cry at the silliest things, i.e. if someone yells at me (I’m not very thick skinned), I will never (or rarely) do so in public. So, I may have been crying minutes before stepping into any public place, but I will still have my best smile, a song or two, and most likely a dance. Rarely people outside of my close circle of friends will know what’s going on. I am also a very kind person. I will go to the ends of the Earth for the people I care about and I get attached quick and very easily, usually just a couple of days if the other person is also showing interest in starting a friendship. As an example (a funny/interesting one at that), the last time I made a friend, I was able to pinpoint the exact moment I realized that it was going to end up with me getting attached and inevitably hurt, but I’ll get to that in a moment. 

First, some back story. A couple of months ago my work place was having a few visitors from outside the country that were going to be with us for a while, and then they were going back home. They were working under my boss, so by extension, with me. Since I consider myself kind and welcoming, I basically took it upon myself to show them around. They told me they loved to play pool, and since I had offered to drive them around as necessary, one day they looked up a place to play and I took them. I had never played pool before, being raised in a strict Christian household, pool is considered a bar game, meaning only people who drink play it (fun fact: my mom still cringes at the fact that I know how to play pool… I’m twenty four years old!). We went to what looked like a very sketchy place. Out of the two, one is an introvert, the other an extrovert. The extrovert told the employee that there were going to be three players. I frowned as I heard it, but I went along with it (although I am an extrovert too, I am very introverted around strangers at first, and they were still strangers by then). They chose a table and three cues, even though I had explicitly said that I didn’t know how to play.

As they were starting to play, I tell the introvert that they could play without me, and he tells me: “it’s fine, we want you to play”. That comment warmed my heart, it felt really good, it had been a while since someone had wanted me to be a part of something. But I was feeling embarrassed because they were really good and I was not. So as the extrovert is watching the table to choose his shot, I approach him and I tell him the same thing, to which he replies: “it’s fine, we want you to play”. And I thought it was hilarious how they both said the same thing, in different moments, and it’s not like either of them spoke loud enough for the other to hear. They genuinely wanted me to play with them, it made me so happy. I don’t think they even knew how much.
In that split second the following words went through my mind: you’re going to get attached to them, and they’re eventually leaving, so you’re going to be sad. But there was nothing that I could do to stop it, short of not talking to them again. And did I want to? Not really. And was the pain worth all the happy moments? Yes, it was. 

Long story short, they started teaching me how to play, and by the end I was a lot improved. We played often while they stayed here, and I’m so much better now than that clueless girl who was barely able to hit the white cue ball. I always come across people, like the extrovert I mentioned before, that are okay with me getting attached quickly. They, more often than not, turn out to be people that I can talk to, befriend them and be myself with. Luckily, that was the case here. Spoiler alert: we’re BFFs now, even though the idiot lives on the other side of the world (thank God for Whataspp) and that we only knew each other for two months. Surprisingly enough, he’s a lot like me and gets attached to people quickly.

…
…you’re going to get attached to them, and they’re eventually leaving, so you’re going to be sad… and was the pain worth all the happy moments? Yes, it was…

But I also have come across people that don’t like the way I am and/or want me to change, and there are two that particularly stand out. (Sidenote: I have this weird thing where I feel like I need to be extra nice to people that are dicks to me. And before you ask, it takes a lot for me to be able to be mean in return, and in the end it just takes a toll on me, so I figure it’s not worth it. I’d rather be nice than not… it’s just who I am.) Anyway, the first person was this guy I knew who was really mean to me (and because I’m a masochist, I used to have a crush on him, jeez), but the thing is I never understood why he acted like that. I do know that I like to call people by pet names, and more often than not it’s done unconsciously (so you’ll hear me calling you “babe”, “honey”, etc.) but since he hated it, I did my best not to call him that, although I admit I’m still not the best at controlling what I say. Fast-forward a year or two, we were on the phone, and we were talking about situations like this that had happened between us, and I found out what was going through his mind back then. He knew he was being a dick to me, and it angered him that I was nice, and so he was extra mean. Talk about logic. 

I feel like I need to be extra nice to people that are dicks to me.

The second person was this other guy I used to be friends with. The way we became friends was unusual, everything happened really fast. Within a few days of knowing each other we got each other stuff (little presents), we would hang out often, the whole deal. (Quick background: Recently, and as a result of various situations, I have been getting to know myself better, and now I am able to tell people: “I’m like this” or “I do this and that”, so no one can ever blame me for lying or misleading them. I’m upfront front the beginning.) But the thing is, after a month or so this person started to mind my talking a lot, my energetic personality, etc. If he had known himself well enough, and if he had told me the truth about how he felt, I could have explained that my behavior wasn’t because I had a crush on him (like he thought), but because I am like that with everyone. Oh well, we’re not friends anymore. Shit happens, moving on… 

I have been getting to know myself better.

The reason I went through the trouble of explaining all of this is because something really nice and cute happened today in the midst of finals hell week. I was doing this homework that has been taking us forever to finish, and I was beat. One of my classmates mentioned that his wife’s birthday was today, so as we’re leaving for the day I tell him: “tell your wife I said happy birthday”, and he says he’ll pass it on. So I go like: “Yeah, just tell her that a random classmate that she doesn’t know wishes her a happy birthday”. He then goes on to say: “Oh, she knows about you”. There were a million thoughts going through my head at the moment about why he would tell her about me, but the most predominant was: “Oh, maybe he told her he has a classmate from Puerto Rico”. Then he said the nicest thing ever: “She knows I take classes with someone that has the energy of a 6 year old”, there was a pause, and I smiled and said: “I’m taking that as a compliment”, and he told me it was.

So, what I am trying to get at is this: not everyone will appreciate you, not everyone will like who you are, and people will give you shit for being yourself. And that hurts… like hell. But remember, just remember, there is always someone that will appreciate you, someone that will like you the way you are, accept you just the way you are, and love you in spite of the things they don’t like about you, but they look past them because they know that’s not the only part of you. Don’t let the people that don’t appreciate who you are bring you down. They’re not worth it. Fight for those who are there through thick and thin, those who will put their pride aside to be there with you, because they truly love you. So move on, there will come someone along who will be worth it. I will pass on the wisdom of a good friend of mine, when I asked him how do I know when it’s time to let go of things or people, he said: “It’s easy, value your time, determine the things that bother you and make them non-negotiable. If a non-negotiable thing happens, let it go, it’s not worth it”, and had I followed his advice, I think I would have ended a certain friendship a month or so before the other person decided that they were done with me. But live and learn, and don’t make the same mistake twice, babe. 

Carolyn