Category: letting go

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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 III

OKAYYYY, this is the last one on Spain, but I promise it’ll be worth it to read and there is a surprise at the end… well as much as a surprise can be for a blog.

I kept the last day in Spain low-key, and also, I was still not well rested, was still in shock with the whole phone stealing thing. My last big stop in Barcelona was Sagrada Familia, if you’re unfamiliar with it, construction began in 1882, and as of 2024 it is still unfinished, an estimated finish time is set for 2034, so it’s been in construction for 142 years, and if it is completed by that time, that means 150 years in construction. That was one of the places on my bucket list, and pictures do not do it justice, but I’ll try. So let’s start with the outside. As you can see, the towers are unfinished, there are cranes, and nets around them. As you can see, there is a lot of detail on the outside, that was part of Gaudi’s (the architect) plan, at the time of his death, the Basilica was less than a fourth of the way completed. It is very busy on the outside, but they tell a story, and there are three façades, one facing east, west and south, there is a Nativity, Passion and Glory Façade, respectively.

When you walk in you’re met with this view, it is breathtaking. Like I said, this stupid camera, shitty resolution but also –you had to be there…

I think I got a better shot of the ceiling. As you can see, the columns resemble tree branches, and as opposed to the busy outside, the inside is relatively un-busy.

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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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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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Dear John

You paint me a blue sky
Then go back and turn it to rain
And I lived in your chess game
But you changed the rules everyday
Wondering which version of you I might get on the phone tonight

Taylor Swift

I have dealt with many people in my life. Some have stayed, some have not. It hurts when one you cared for leaves, but as I ponder, in the sorrow’s aftermath, I realized they left, but the lessons I learned from them will stay with me. Growth is a good thing. I’ll never claim that I know everything because I know for a fact that I don’t. In fact, I welcome everyone around me to call me out whenever they think I am doing something wrong, especially to new people I meet. People walk on eggshells whenever they want to point out things to others because they don’t know how the other one will take it, and that’s a fair assessment. But I would want no one in my circle to feel that way, so I welcome criticism. I will not claim that it doesn’t bother me, occasionally it will, but I hear it, and ponder on it. Then I determine if they are right or not and on a lot of occasions I concede I was wrong, and I work to fix it.

I welcome growth. I just would enjoy it a lot more if the growth was with the people that stayed, not those who left. It doesn’t feel fair needing to lose someone or being in pain, in order to grow. You’d think growing meant they’d stay, and that’s true for many people in my life. So why am I focusing on those that left? Well, I guess one remembers pain more than happiness. You know, when you gave it your very best; you were willing to compromise; meet them in the middle (or way past it) so they’d stay, but they still leave? Yeah, it sucks. It hurts. I’m terrible at trying to fix things, usually I just make them worse. A good analogy for this is whenever I paint my nails, that’s something I suck at, so I always have nail polish around the nail — where there shouldn’t be any—, so when I try to remove it, I end up removing the nail polish of the nail and I make it worse. Well, the same thing goes for relationships.

Well, maybe it’s me
And my blind optimism to blame
Or maybe it’s you and your sick need
To give love and take it away
And you’ll add my name to your long list of traitors
Who don’t understand
And I look back in regret how I ignored when they said
“Run as fast as you can”

Taylor Swift

Taylor Swift is one of my favorite artists. Her music often resonates with me. “Dear John” is one of those. I heard it and I was: “Well shit, she also went through this”. I often ignore red flags, not necessarily because I don’t see them, but because I like to give people the benefit of the doubt, “maybe that’s not what they meant“; “maybe they had a bad day“. Sometimes those are true, but sometimes that blind optimism gets to me. I’m debating whether it’s sad, but time and time again, I give people the benefit of the doubt, and they fail me, but a new person comes in and I give it to them.

In my twenty-eight years, one, maybe two, people have shown me how evil people can be. They know they’re done with you, but they need you, so they stick around. Or they point out your flaws, while completely dismissing theirs. I think the worst part of the former is that things were rocky, but when they seemed friendly again, you think it’s going back to normal. They get you high just to drop you. The worse of the latter I think has to do with that lack of accountability. I mentioned how I don’t mind getting called out on things, but it’s a two-way street. You can’t call me out on things and when I do, you get defensive. We’re adults, not five.

When I was a child and then a teen, I thought the reason people my age were immature was because I was “too mature for my age”, but as an adult I have realized that it is completely false, I’ve seen adults throw tantrums, it has nothing to do with age. Silly me. Naïve me. That’s one of my problems. I’m too optimistic, “if I put in more effort, they’ll appreciate it“. They usually don’t and the problem becomes bigger.

I think the worse of people is whenever they paint this image of themselves and as time moves along; you notice it’s not them at all. But you hold on, maybe you’re imagining things, maybe that’s them on a bad day. I think it’s sad to think that a relationship with someone you care about is not possible because you bring out the worse in each other. Another contradiction of life, you care about a person, but you are terrible for each other. It’s sad, frustrating even.

I don’t like tooting my horn, but I’d like to think that I’m an honest, caring, loving, friendly, funny, thoughtful, and loyal person, at the same time not everyone is going to see that, and I’ve killed myself trying to show that to people who are covering their eyes. Somehow, I think I can convince people of how good I am. But I am slowly learning it’s just a waste of time.

I wouldn’t say those failed relationships were a waste of time, though. They were incredibly sad at the time that I had to go through them, but in the long run, they made me a better person. Every day I strive to do and be better. If they can’t see that, then maybe they don’t deserve to be in my life.

Learn to let go.

As always,

With love,

Carolyn

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I’m the problem, it’s me.

I’m the problem, it’s me.

When you don’t look like society’s standard of beauty you grow up being ridiculed because you’re “too fat” or whatever attribute they deemed ugly, it would get pointed out. At one point in my life I weighed 150lbs, and I remember feeling too fat, too ugly, too little. Mom and sister both were skinny, I was the only fat one. Dad was fat as were a lot of the men in my life, but for some reason they’re not held to the same standards. I felt inadequate. They couldn’t relate. It didn’t help that everyone around me would make the same idiotic comments: “Carolyn, you’re fat, that’s not healthy for you. Maybe you should lose it.” Well gee Aunt Tina, I did not know that fact, thanks for letting me know! My parents were no better, and I get that the comments from certain people were coming from a place of love, and care. But at the same time, when they’re 1. Unsolicited and 2. Given without any solution, the comments are useless. I own a mirror, I know I’m fat and I know it’s not healthy. None offered to join me in a gym, none cooked healthier foods for me (when I was a minor and not in charge of my own meals of course). I always figured there’d be a time where I’d go to the gym and I’d lose the weight. Only problem is that I always postponed that. For whatever reason, I’d always find an excuse. Not one of my greatest moments. Looking back when I was “fat”, I was quite literally a few pounds away from a healthy weight. I’ve been suggested Herbalife, I’ve been criticized for how much butter I put on a toast… think of criticism, I’ve probably gotten it.

I’m the problem, it’s me

Taylor Swift

Since I have memory I have always wanted to be skinny. Even when I was 150lbs. Whenever I look, at the rare pictures that exist, I could have lost a few pounds, was I as fat as I thought? No, absolutely not. I have always felt I needed to lose the weight to feel good with myself. Until I lost it I wouldn’t feel good. I didn’t like feeling inadequate, ugly, fat, or that I was taking up too much space. At several points in my life I have joined gyms. I would go, highly pumped… for a whole month, and because I wouldn’t see results in that short time, I would get discouraged and I stopped going. I was expecting results in a month for something that had been years in the making. None of the people that would critique me ever joined me. All encouraged me from afar, no one put their money where their mouth was. I’m not proud of the times I quit, but it is what it is.

I’m not proud I quit, but it is what it is.

Circa 2008. What the fuck am I wearing? 😭 I was living in a tropical island, it was hot. Why am I wearing and ugly ass shirt and an ugly ass jacket? Don’t get me started on those baggy jeans… Oh and you can’t see the hair, but that’s another hot mess.

I always had this idea that fat = ugly and I felt bad about myself, I just wanted to hide. I hated cameras! There’s evidence of those times, but not a lot (hence the really bad cropped pictures I am showing here), I really lost a lot of memories because I didn’t like capturing my fatness, I didn’t want to be reminded at the time. That’s how bad I felt about myself. And it’s sad, no one should be made to feel like that. I look at pictures of my friends in high school and I’m not in a lot of them, I would take them but I’d never be in them. And the ones that do exist I look fucking terrible. For fuck’s sake, I would dress so bad. But that only speaks to the level of confidence I had at the time, which was essentially none. Oh and on top of it I’m tall for a woman, so not only was I fat, I was very tall, everything about me was very difficult to hide. It pains me to look back at those pictures, not because I was fat, but because I see that insecure little girl that never felt pretty enough because she was fat. I also missed out on so many things. I didn’t do a lot of things, I didn’t take enough pictures, I would wear the most hideous things ever, again, it’s very sad I lost so much because of that.

Sometimes I feel like everybody is a sexy baby
And I’m a monster on the hill
Too big to hang out
Slowly lurching toward your favorite city

Taylor Swift
Circa 2010. This wasn’t any better. Two shirts, a longer one hiding my arms, and then one on top? Why did I think this was okay?! Here the hair is more noticeable…

My confidence had always been close to zero, fat people can’t be pretty can they? So why would I feel any confidence? There’s not much representation of fat people in the media, no one looked like me. Insecurities built up, for me this translated into baggy clothes, long sleeves, layers of clothes all in order to hide the fat. Of course, I was not hiding anything, I was just looking fucking terrible in the process. I mean, that’s all looking at it retroactively, I am pretty sure at the time I thought I looked great. Well, never hot, I had never found myself looking hot, there are always Jennifer Annistons walking around, I could never measure… Even though I loved it, part of the reason I cut off my hair into a pixie cut (inspired from Ginnifer Goodwin), was because I would not know how to handle my long hair. I never felt I could do or wear “girly” stuff because I was fat, you’ll see that I looked like a tomboy for a hot second there, that’s all I felt comfortable in.

Circa 2017. I doubt I ever wore this dress outside without a jacket or a cardigan. I hated those arms.

There’s not a lot of fat people portrayed in the media, though we are seeing more each day, but not when I was a kid. Those that were, were just made fun of. Being fat is funny (sarcasm). The fat character was always the comic relief. They were never the love interest, they were the funny-reliable-relatable best friend. I never felt identified with any character on TV, the were not a lot of fat people, much less fat women. There’s this moment that replays in my mind every once in a while, I was in elementary school and girls are forced to wear skirts (even though pants cover up much better), very little schools allowed us to use pants, but even then, sometimes we couldn’t afford both the skirt and pants, so skirt it was… anyway, there was this kid I had a crush with, and I guess he knew, not sure, so I’m walking upstairs and if you were standing below them, you could see up all of our skirts, he’s standing below and looked up and said “eww”. It’s almost 20 years later and I still remember, that clearly scarred me. Outside of school I’d never wear a skirt, if I did certainly not one short enough that you could see my thighs (there were some rare occasions but just know I was very uncomfortable). I would never wear sleeveless shirts, or dresses, my bathing suits consisted of shorts and a shirt, I encountered many instances of going to a pool and having anxiety because it stated that bathing suits were required. I would always be wondering if I’d be allowed in or if in this instance I’d be kicked out. Wearing shirts with sleeves allowed me to hide my chubby arms, but who was I really fooling? You can still see it, you just can’t see the skin, my mind lied to me that this was better. First time I wore a sleeveless dress, that was just right above my knee was 2017/2018. I was 24 years old, this means I had basically spent most —if not all— of those 24 years, hiding my body. It also didn’t help that I was raised in a pretty strict-Christian household, it was nowhere near as strict as what my parents encountered when they were growing up, but strict. In the church, there seems to be this idea that to appear Christian, you have to look bland, I’d call it ugly, but I don’t know what they would call it. If I had a penny for the amount of people I saw looking the ugliest a person can look… I’d be rich. And this is not talking at all about their physical appearance, this is talking about their dress choices. I get that there’s modesty involved with being Christian but you can be modest and still look good, something the people I encountered growing up did not know, or chose to ignore, I’m not sure. What I am sure about is that I inherited insecurities from the adults around me, not necessarily on purpose but it’s what happens with people, we project our insecurities onto others. “Cross your legs, ladies do not sit like that” or “lower your skirt! There’s people around!” or my very favorite, the chaos whenever your bra strap slipped over, as if people didn’t know women wore bras…. And don’t get me wrong, we don’t want people looking up our clothes and we want to be modest but at the same time there shouldn’t be the taboo there is.

Circa 2018, Blue Lagoon. This is the only image I have of me ever wearing a bathing suit without any shorts. I did not want that documented.

Summer of 2018 I took an impromptu trip to Iceland, when I went to the Blue Lagoon I had a one piece bathing suit, one of the first times I had ever worn one. With a short pant of course, you can’t be showing thighs, fat thighs are ugly and no one wants to see that… my friend and I had to use bathrooms far from each other and she had my shorts in her bag, I can’t recall why. So when I’m putting my bathing suit on, I found I didn’t have the shorts with me, so I had to put my metaphorical big girl pants on and walk out wearing only the one piece bathing suit. By the time I found my friend, I had lost the shame and I decided to just not wear the shorts. I was still nervous when I went in and out of the water, but I did it. That was the first time I’ve ever worn a bathing suit without any cover up. It wouldn’t repeat itself until this year, but instead of a one piece, I wore a two piece, high waist bottoms, sure, but still. After a lifetime of feeling ashamed, in 2022, I finally felt comfortable in my own body. But I’ll get to that later. The summer of 2018 was important in my growth, it was the first time I had worn a sleeveless dress and a one-piece bathing suit without shorts. I would go to wear more dresses, makeup, especially a matte-red that everyone compliments on me. It also didn’t help that the world closed in 2020, I gained weight, lost the weight. I don’t like to think I’m the person that looks from validation from other people, but I am, though now that I know, I’m aiming to validate myself. I don’t need someone to find me pretty to feel pretty. That summer was also the first time that I liked someone and I wasn’t concerned about whether or not they wouldn’t like me because of my body. I was slowly shedding the insecurities.

2022, Puerto Rico. This woman is living her best life. You see that smile? I was also in Puerto Rico, my homeland, that I hadn’t seen in over two years. Wearing this two-piece bathing suit, short-less and very happy.

I was slowly shedding the insecurities.

Summer of 2022, I matched with a guy on a dating app, I wasn’t sure about him, too young, his profile pictures were terrible, but I decided to give it a shot. He was very attracted to me, and at any given point he’d let me know. This made me want to look pretty for him, I’d go on to dress up so he’d see how pretty I was. In doing so I started feeling myself. I started wearing things I would have never worn, I bought lingerie, leather skirts, bodysuits, I realized I had nice clothes, but there were even nicer things I could get. In my mind there was a line on what stuff fat people could and couldn’t use. Turns out it was a fucking lie. I found out I look smoking hot wearing a leather skirt, that it accentuated my fat? Yes, did I still wear it? Also yes. All of this was in part for him, that’s how it started but then somewhere along the way, it started being for myself and if he liked it was a huge plus. It felt very nice to be wanted. It took me a while to understand that it needed to be for me, rather than him, because it got to a point that I was looking for validation from him. He needed to tell me I looked hot, to feel hot. This was also the first time I looked at myself and thought I was hot, it was no longer a label exclusive for the Jennifer Anistons of the world. At the moment he withdrew his validation, I wavered, man did I waver… But then I found myself, I realized it had never been for him, it had been for me. His loss really. He met this very insecure woman and unknowingly allowed her to find herself and when he left, she was not the same person, again, his loss, who doesn’t want a woman that feels confidence in herself, her body whichever way it looks at any given point? I still want and like to be told I look good, who doesn’t? But I also don’t need it to feel myself or to wear something I like. I sent my aunt a picture and she replied with: “confidence looks good on you.” And that’s something I had never felt. I walked out in public wearing a leather bra, skirt, and a sheer top. I WOULD HAVE NEVER. But did I? You bet I did.

Carolyn, 2022, Toronto, Ontario. I am officially calling this the “Carolyn leather era” (sounds naughty in Spanish lol). See the difference? I am fucking feeling myself. I still feel a little conscious but fuck it.

Confidence looks good on you.

My aunt

Am I the problem? Abso-fucking-lutely not. The problem is society fucking up with anyone that’s not a size zero. This is not in any way of form criticism to size zeros, it’s to the people that tiered who deserves to be respected and who doesn’t. I deserve to feel happy wearing whatever I want to wear. I realized I gave people too much power, I get to decide how I feel about myself and no one gets to dictate what is good or bad for me. No one is walking in my shoes, I am, no one knows what I go through, what goes through my mind or what I am working towards.

2022. As I post this, I feel a little conscious about how you can see how my fat looks through this skirt, something I’ve spent years hiding. But I am deciding to concentrate on how fucking hot I look.

My goal with this post is to, hopefully, inspire you, if you’re anything like me, my best advice is to fuck all the people that have made you feel inadequate, wear whatever the fuck you want, if you love it, wear it. Wear it confidently, or fake it until you make it. Do all the things you want to do, don’t follow in my footsteps and don’t miss out on things, your family, friends and people that love you, will thank you. You will regret all those instances where you missed out. I know I do. But no more.

As always,

With love,

Carolyn

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Introversion, Sensing, Feeling and Judging

Introversion, Sensing, Feeling and Judging

So, I took a personality test. I wanted to know what it had to say about me, if it could explain why I am the way that I am. And in this post I will try to dissect the answer it gave me and make sense of it. So, after answering that long personality quiz, the first thing that I saw was: “Defender personality, ISFJ“, which stands for Introversion, Sensing, Feeling and Judging. I wasn’t sure what all of this meant so I googled, for introversion I found meant: “…tend to be quiet and reserved. They generally prefer interacting with a few close friends rather than a wide circle of acquaintances, and they expend energy in social situations“. Sensing: “…tend to be more concrete than abstract. They focus their attention on the details rather than the big picture, and on immediate realities rather than future possibilities“. Feeling: “…tend to value personal considerations above objective criteria. When making decisions, they often give more weight to social implications than to logic.” Judging: “…tend to plan their activities and make decisions early. They derive a sense of control through predictability.”

While the test is not 100% accurate for me, it was true for the most part. Anyone that knows me will say that I am not quiet and reserved and they would be correct. I am an extrovert with those close to me, friends and family, but if I don’t know someone I will be so quiet and shy, that they wouldn’t recognize me. It is true that I prefer the close circle than a big circle, and I do spend a lot of energy. I felt a little attacked when I read that I focus a lot in small details rather than the big picture. Which is half true. I do focus in those small details, but I also look at the big picture. And for sure I love something concrete rather than something abstract. I am trying to improve the part where my decisions are emotional rather than logical, and to some extent it is working, but it is still a work in progress. Lastly, of course I plan everything beforehand, I like to know all the possibilities before diving in. Don’t you..?

But then there’s this phrase: “Defenders are often receptive to change and new ideas“… How about no? Ok, look, when I need to move onto a new facet of my life I will do it. It doesn’t mean that I like it, it means that it’s necessary. But everything needs to be carefully planned. And about the “new ideas“? Well, again, I just need sufficient planning. “Defenders are true altruists, meeting kindness with kindness-in-excess and engaging the work and people they believe in with enthusiasm and generosity.” This part particularly fits me. Everyone that knows me -truly knows me-, knows this to be true. It’s actually one of the reasons that it’s been hard to make friends in the States, because there’s no such thing as “meeting kindness with kindness-in-excess“, I’ve had my hands full when walking from my car to my apartment -and it’s clear I need help/I’m struggling- and I’ve had either neighbors help me out by simply opening a door and I’ve had neighbors that won’t help me at all. This is part of the reason why I’ve gotten into trouble with people, they don’t get how -or even why- I’m so enthusiastic all the time. Which is not necessarily true, but I like to project that because there’s enough sadness in the world, you know? So while I might be bummed out inside, I will try my best to be cheerful.

Fun fact: There’s only 13% of us ISFJ’s. No wonder we’re so rare.

“Defender personalities are often meticulous to the point of perfectionism, and though they procrastinate, they can always be relied on to get the job done on time.” This is another part that fits me to a T. I tend to be a perfectionist, even though I have been working on it. Because not everything can or will be perfect. I procrastinate to no end, but everything is always done on time, which is the reason I procrastinate, though I know I need to do better. “…take their responsibilities personally, consistently going above and beyond, doing everything they can to exceed expectations and delight others, at work and at home.” Work, yes, home, maybe not so much. I am not much of a family person. I love my family, but as a whole we’re not very close, the person I talk to the most is my dad. But the rest, not so much, only here and there. Which is a shame, because when I see other families and they’re all together and they all get along, I get jealous. So, to some extent, I want that too, but we’re all so different as a family, and it wasn’t something that we were taught or encouraged.

“They have a tendency to underplay their accomplishments, and while their kindness is often respected, more cynical and selfish people are likely to take advantage of their dedication and humbleness…” This one specifically speaks to me, because I don’t like to be praised, I get super shy when someone praises me and I’ve been taken advantage of more times than I can remember. That quote continues as: “…need to know when to say no and stand up for themselves if they are to maintain their confidence and enthusiasm.” It’s funny because it is something I’m currently struggling with. I know I need to stand up for myself, but I feel it will cause more trouble than it’s worth and then I’m going to end up like the bad guy.

“Naturally social, an odd quality for Introverts…” I feel… attacked. I am very social, and people think I’m an extrovert, but I am not, not really. I am very shy when I don’t know someone, of course after I know them I’m hell on heels, but otherwise no. I have a special problem with this one: “...coworkers, whom people with the Defender personality type often consider their personal friends.“, specially because I don’t know how to do things half-way, I am an all-or-nothing gal. I have a lot of troubles with the gray area. I don’t exactly sure if it’s a good or bad thing but that’s how I am, there are a lot of things that I know I could improve on, but I don’t know if this is one of those.

“…rarely sitting idle while a worthy cause remains unfinished…. ability to connect with others on an intimate level is unrivaled among Introverts, and the joy they experience in using those connections to maintain a supportive, happy family is a gift for everyone involved…” Yes, a hundred times, yes. It’s hard for me to sit idle when I can do something about, well, something. I struggled for the longest time whether to help someone or not. I thought about it night and day. And I ended up not helping because I didn’t want the other person to feel uncomfortable. That’s another problem I have. I put myself in other’s peoples shoes, maybe way too much.

Strengths:

  1. Supportive: …universal helpers, sharing their knowledge, experience, time and energy with anyone who needs it… they strive for win-win situations, choosing empathy over judgment whenever possible. (Y.E.S.)
  2. Reliable and Patient: …are meticulous and careful, taking a steady approach and bending with the needs of the situation just enough to accomplish their end goals… not only ensure that things are done to the highest standard, but often go well beyond what is required. (💯)
  3. Imaginative and Observant: …very imaginative, and use this quality as an accessory to empathy, observing others’ emotional states and seeing things from their perspective. (I feel personally attacked again.)
  4. Enthusiastic: …take all this support, reliability and imagination and apply it to something they believe will make a difference in people’s lives – whether fighting poverty with a global initiative or simply making a customer’s day. (I’m enthusiastic, but I am not sure about the whole explanation on this one.)
  5. Loyal and Hard-Working: Given a little time, this enthusiasm grows into loyalty… personalities often form an emotional attachment to the ideas and organizations they’ve dedicated themselves to. Anything short of meeting their obligations with good, hard work fails their own expectations. (Yes, also with people. Which is not the best thing ever.)
  6. Good Practical Skills: …have the practical sense to actually do something with all this altruism… can see the beauty and harmony that they create, because they know that it helps them to care for their friends, family, and anyone else who needs it. (I don’t think this is true. If anything all I’ve created lately is chaos.)

Weaknesses:

  1. Humble and Shy: …this is possibly Defenders’ biggest challenge, as they are so concerned with others’ feelings that they refuse to make their thoughts known, or to take any duly earned credit for their contributions. Defenders’ standards for themselves are also so high that, knowing they could have done some minor aspect of a task better, they often downplay their successes entirely. (So freaking true.)
  2. Take Things Too Personally: …have trouble separating personal and impersonal situations… and any negativity from conflict or criticism can carry over from their professional to their personal lives, and back again. (This is a current struggle. Trying to hang in there.)
  3. Repress Their Feelings: …are private and very sensitive, internalizing their feelings a great deal. Much in the way that they protect others’ feelings, they must protect their own, and this lack of healthy emotional expression can lead to a lot of stress and frustration. (This is equals part true and false, I am very open with a lot of stuff, but really-true feelings is not something I tell everyone and I tell everyone everything. I’m also transparent as hell, which doesn’t help.)
  4. Overload Themselves: …strong senses of duty and perfectionism combine with this aversion to emotional conflict to create a situation where it is far too easy to overload themselves as they struggle silently to meet everyone’s expectations, especially their own. (😬💯)
  5. Reluctant to change: …a situation sometimes needs to reach a breaking point before they are persuaded by circumstance, or the strong personality of a loved one, to alter course. (A thousand times yes, which is bad.)
  6. Too Altruistic: …Being such warm, good-natured people, Defenders are willing to let things slide, to believe that things will get better soon, to not burden others by accepting their offers of help, while their troubles mount unassisted. (What is the number one reason Carolyn stays in friendships for too long when it’s not going anywhere? Because she gives everyone the benefit of the doubt. 😬)

It goes on and on talking about relationships which I’m omitting for now, but it does talk about friendships. “…they also need to be able to connect on a deeper emotional level. It makes sense then that most of Defenders’ friends are made not by random encounters on a wild night out, but through comfortable and consistent contact, as in class or in the workplace where they have the time to get to know each other little by little.” This is super true. All of my friends I met as classmates. There’s no one that I consider friend that is outside of that. It should be consider as a weakness the fact that: “…need a lot of positive feedback, and admitting this need certainly shows vulnerability, but if that vulnerability is well handled, it creates the deep bonds that Defender personalities look for. If badly handled or not reciprocated, it’s hard to see the burgeoning friendship surviving without quite a bit of extra effort.” The perfect examples of this are the friendships I’ve talked about in the past and it’s funny/interesting, because I experienced both so recently. One person handled well that vulnerability, the other didn’t. That translates to still being friends with one, but not with the other.

“…as their friendships develop… a sense of loyalty may push them… to meet their friends’ needs, to the point of neglecting their own… they show this in a few ways, from going clearly out of their ways to stick to trivial commitments, to simply not wanting to disagree or say no for fear of causing turbulence. More cynical types would call this naïve, and may even take advantage of Defenders’ altruism – but these are hardly the type of people who could be called ‘friends’“. This flows with the previous statement, it’s part of the reason my friendship ended. He didn’t understand that this is a default setting for me. Which is the type that last statement is talking about. “The real friends…are the ones Defenders truly cherish for their quality of character and quality of discussion. Defenders aren’t particularly picky about what personality types they make friends with, at least not initially, but because they prefer so strongly to avoid conflict and miscommunication, most of their friends are likely to end up being fairly similar personalities.” This is so, so true. I’ve sat down and made this analysis and it is true, all of my friends are similar to me, of course we have differences but we have a lot of things in common.

It also talks about the workplace. “…can always be relied on for their kindness and ability to listen to concerns, and to find ways to resolve them. Win-win situations are Defenders’ bread and butter, and no one takes quite the same pleasure in finding satisfying resolutions to day-to-day challenges.” It goes on to say: “As subordinates they exemplify the strength of humble dedication… only seek one reward for their work: the satisfaction of knowing that whoever they helped feels heartfelt thanks. On the other hand, this humbleness can hold them back – Defenders are quite unwilling to advertise their achievements, often for fear of creating unnecessary friction.” This is particularly true, it is something I am trying to work with currently, I need to be more extroverted. I need to keep my feet firm on the ground and I need to not let anyone step on me. In workplace topics, naturally, co-workers come up. “Among their colleagues, people with this personality type seek a friction-less environment, a spirit of friends helping friends to get the job done. Close-knit and supportive teams are what Defenders enjoy most, allowing them to express their altruistic spirit among people who rely on their dedication and warmth. Defenders are natural networkers, but they use this skill to keep things running smoothly, not as a tool for professional advancement.” I feel -once again-, personally attacked, this is not necessarily a good thing. I’m being too altruistic right now and I am trying to keep the peace even though my coworkers are doing everything in their power to push me over the edge. I guess they could argue they’re not and they could be right. I might being too dramatic as normal, but I believe this is one of the times that I’m not wrong. I don’t know, I’ll figure it out. It goes onto explaining how people with my personality could be managers/bosses, etc. “…they don’t actually enjoy managing others, but this can be one of their greatest strengths… they are warm, approachable and great listeners… prefer to work alongside their subordinates, organizing people and minimizing conflict. This helps them to create personal relationships with their subordinates, to be friends in the workplace who simply have different sets of responsibilities. While they may be slow to accept some changes, they are great at helping their teams put them into practice once they’ve been agreed on. Defenders may be too sensitive to be fully executive material, but they make exemplary floor and office managers who know what it takes to satisfy their customers.” This last topic is particularly me and it’s not at the same time. I can organize stuff well, but I am not good at bossing people around which is why I’m having trouble. Supposedly, I would make a good one -though not an excellent one- because of all of this mentioned before.

The conclusion circles that: “Few personality types are as practical and dedicated… Known for their reliability and hard work… are good at creating and maintaining a secure and stable environment for themselves… dedication is invaluable in many areas, including their own personal growth. Yet Defenders can be easily tripped up in areas where their kind and practical attitude is more of a liability than an asset. Whether it is navigating interpersonal conflicts, confronting unpleasant facts, pursuing self-realization, or managing your workload, you need to put in a conscious effort to develop your weaker traits and additional skills.” I believe, there’s not much left to say…

As I was reading this I felt identified, I felt attacked, and others didn’t fit me but for the most part they did. Whenever I am judging myself, I try to be as neutral as possible because I like to be objective. Of course this is not foolproof, it’s a very flawed system. We, as humans being, tend to overlook all of our faults and it’s something I am currently struggling with. I encourage everyone to take the test, it will help you understand some things about yourself, I know it did for me. It specifically outlined my strengths and weaknesses which was an eye opener and most importantly, it showed me that I am not the only one. That a lot of people struggle with this too, even if it’s just the 13%…

Credits to: https://www.16personalities.com/isfj-personality for the creation of the test and the good studies to understand ourselves.

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The naïve believes of a girl

The naïve believes of a girl

When I was little I was always more mature than the rest of my peers, I didn’t realized at the time of course, but I had trouble making friends and I didn’t understand the actions of people around me. I figured, as I moved on to the next facet of my life, that it would be different then because I would be dealing with older people and that, in my naïve mind, meant mature people. As I grew and transitioned from elementary school, to middle school to high school and then college, nothing changed. Except of course I was dealing with older people, only they weren’t mature like they should have been, or how I expected them to be.

I have a bad tendency of expecting people to treat me like I treat them. After all, “treat others the way you want to be treated”, right? But I constantly find myself going to lengths for people and because they’re not me, they don’t even do a quarter of what I do and don’t seem to appreciate it, so it appears as if those efforts go to people who don’t deserve it. I feel the need to help people even when they don’t ask, just because I see them struggling. That doesn’t sit well with everybody and I am sorry, but I will try to help. If you say “no” I will work on not meddling, but just know that I will have you in my thoughts and if you need help, I’ll be there for you (pun intended, my fellow Friends fans). Sometimes I don’t know how to help and I beat myself up over it. Little by little I have been learning that sometimes all you can do is nothing, just sit and wait. It is not easy for me as I get the urge to do something. This has particularly been a struggle since I moved to the U.S., people here are really… independent? Isolated? Detached from other’s suffering? I don’t know. But the point is that I come off as weird (more than normal). It is weird enough back home, where people are used to it, and I don’t know if it’s a Latin thing, or a Puerto Rican thing, but the point is, not in the U.S. Generally, people can see you struggling and no one will stop to help or ask if you need help.

Another trait that I have noticed in adults is the necessity to be petty. I don’t like petty people and I’ve always had trouble understanding the need to be like that. It’s easy to be truthful and honest, at least I believe it to be: it’s the way to be a mature adult. Part of our perks as grown ups is that we have a vast vocabulary to choose from, we have experience and we’re supposed to know our likes and dislikes. Now the term adulthood; I would consider anyone over eighteen to be an adult. But not mentally, they still have a lot to experience, they can be, but not necessarily. I am not the best judge of people so I can’t say for sure, but for me, an adult can be anyone who can handle tough conversations, doesn’t walk away from discussions and is truthful and clear on what they can handle or not. So you can be a 22 year old and I’ll view you as a child if you behave like a narrow-minded person. I’ve also considered 40-50 year old people children.

The best examples I can think of are two particular people I’ve had to deal with. For the sake of the argument I’ll call professor 1, Robert and professor 2, Eddie. So Robert had troubles with Eddie, honestly I don’t even know why, I just know that I would get advice from Eddie and that didn’t sit well with Robert who opted to be petty at me rather than you know, be professional. I didn’t need to know that Robert didn’t like Eddie. Nor did the rest of the class. But there I was, stuck between two professors, both of whom helped me further my career. I made it through with silence, smiles and awkwardness. Then, I experienced it again after a friendship ended bad and the person offered to give me back a gift I had given them. I wasn’t gonna stoop that low and go along with the pettiness, so I only said that it wasn’t necessary. It was a gift, you don’t take those back anyway.

On both of these cases I believe there were easier, better ways to handle the situation. In the first one, Robert could have dealt with his problems with Eddie in private, out of the public eye, without putting me or anyone else in the middle. I got so much trouble out of it because Robert’s immaturity transferred to his students who in turn made snide comments to me, something I don’t think I deserved for just seeking help and advice from two accomplished professors. While I tend to be very independent and don’t like people to help me (I know the irony and hypocrisy is showing), I tend to know work-wise when to acknowledge when I need help, so I will always seek the advice of those who came before me. That was exactly what I was doing in this situation. Now in the second situation, what the person should have done is not treat our friendship as if it had been a relationship where we need to give back everything we ever gave each other. And since we worked together, well, treat each other professionally as I meant to do. But that was before the person didn’t even acknowledge I was in the room. Which I learned to live with and even though at the beginning it bothered me, I was never unprofessional.

The thing is, I wish I could have been as petty as they were, but was I? No. But it wasn’t because a lack of desire, it’s just not who I am. But I am not exempt of getting upset and wanting “revenge” even if I don’t go through with it. Not everyone has to like me, I can make my peace with that. But I believe that in the work environment everyone should behave professionally. Feelings need to be put aside because it is not a place for them. And this is coming from the queen of feelings, alright? The one that feels the most, cares the most and has a hard time letting go. Work has to be professional, no room for feelings. If it were, it would be called something else. Of course feelings are always going to play a part in our lives as much as we try to compartmentalize, but we need to try our best to put it aside. Do you know how many times I’ve had to work with a person I didn’t like? Or someone I wasn’t comfortable with? Tons, but if I get mad, or act petty, it just makes everything harder. I wish to show those people the same level of pettiness they’ve showed me, but I haven’t because I know it’s not effective. And truth be told, I am not that kind of person, so I don’t know if I could anyway.

I don’t know what needs to be done in every situation, but everyone reading this: analyze yourself, we tend to overlook our faults. I have been guilty of doing so, that’s why I have been trying to look at my actions and is also the reason why I talk to my friends : “am I not expressing myself correctly?”, “did I say something wrong?” and so on. Little by little I have worked on being my own judge and be as impartial as I could to be. We have to realize that is not always the other person and we can contribute to their response to our actions. Don’t be too overly critical of yourself, but be
critical enough to accept your own faults. Please, grow up, be adults, we don’t need children in work places, we need adults that won’t get offended when they’re reprimanded for not doing their job properly. We need people who, if they were reprimanded, would accept that they’ve been lacking in something and it was well deserved. Accountability. We need accountability.

I am sad I grew up, it’s shocking to learn that nothing ever changes, not really. It’s a horrible world where good things happen to bad people and they get away with it. While it was a lie, it was nice to think, as a child, that when I was older most of my problems will figure themselves out. But now, I know that that’s not the case, not everyone grows out of their immaturity, and they just go through life being adults with teenage mindsets.

I said it before and I’ll repeat it again, we need to be accountable for our own actions, good or bad. Especially the bad ones.

Carolyn

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An open letter to the friend that broke my heart

An open letter to the friend that broke my heart

I’ve held onto this for a few weeks now, debating whether it required a post for itself or not. I read it a few days ago and decided it did. So here it goes:

As fate would have it, I met this boy at a random party, to be honest we didn’t talk then. But by chance, we were in the same class and it was an instant click, we had a similar sense of humor. From talking before and after class, our relationship developed into sitting together. I had a new friend, yay! Then, we had conversations through Snapchat and eventually texted. A lot. Look, I talk a lot so that’s normal for me, but it’s rare to find someone that will let me talk and not mind. I told him to let me know if he minded because I am not the best reader of people and he seemed to be fine with it. For a little bit, I thought he liked me because he would say funky things. We started hanging out, at my place, out somewhere. I even got a gift from him out of the blue, the randomest thing ever. Though my favorite memory was one day where I was struggling and he stepped out of the gym and stopped by my place with ice cream. Pistachio, because out of the times we had gone out, he had observed that’s what I had gotten (ask me which flavors he got, idk!). The thing to know about me is that I treat everyone the same. Whether I like them or not, whether you’re my friend or not. At one point I’m with my best friend on the phone, talking about how it looked like we were dating, but I didn’t know if we were, my friend agreed. But I wasn’t sure what to do. He brought up the conversation once, we agreed we weren’t, I explained that I never treated him special, he brought things he minded and even dropped the “it’s not you, it’s me” (which ended up being b.s… I should have listened to FRIENDS, “if they tell you it’s them, it’s really you) and that was the end of it… or so I thought. Things were ok for like three days. He started pushing me away, stopped sitting with me. Since it was unexpected, it hurt like hell. I waited for him to clarify, about two days after, I texted him, he called me and it turned out I had said a joke, which he thought I meant. Another thing to know about me is that I’m sarcastic 99% of the time. But he didn’t buy it and asked for space. While I tried my best to keep my distance, it goes against my nature so it wasn’t perfect. So that was my best, even if it wasn’t the best by him. We were even scheduled to travel together so whatever was going on, needed to be solved by then, which is part of the reason for me to try to keep in touch and try to help fix whatever was going on. Days and weeks went by and we were not talking. I kind of confronted him through an app, not my finest moment but I hadn’t seen him so it was the only way I could do it. What I was told was that we were talking too much, that he was uncomfortable and that I was too energetic and kept reminding him he wasn’t in a good place. Long story short, he thought the trip would help him clear his mind. Short after I got a text that said that he wasn’t making it. To some extent I tried to talk him into going. Though it wasn’t long until I realized how he had made his mind up about me. There was nothing I could say that would make him change his mind. He was done with me, done with me without giving me the benefit of the doubt, without letting me explain. I didn’t know what was going on!

While he explained why he decided not to be my friend anymore, it still didn’t make sense. I did interpret that from our previous conversation, I guess he expected me to treat him different, which I didn’t because I never treated him differently. He told me how suffocated I made him feel and a lot of things along that line. I wanted to take the high road so I told him I wished him farewell, that I hoped he would fulfill his dreams because in spite of everything, I thought he was a good person. Why? I don’t know. He was horrible to me. Though I think I was horrible to him, in his story. And that’s how I got a friend and lost a friend in the course of two months. The aftermath was the worst: crying at home, and being a hermit for a week, I had anxiety attacks, I couldn’t breathe and honestly I couldn’t deal with anything. I blamed myself, even though I had taken responsibility for what was my fault, even if he didn’t see it.

If you’re reading this, I even had your Christmas gift picked out, I freaked out for months because I wasn’t sure what to get you. It was a set of loose tea and a really nice steeper. You would have loved it. I am mad at you. It took me a week and then some to feel better. I cried on the way to a friend’s house, who would subsequently take me to the airport, because it wasn’t supposed to happen that way, because it was supposed to be the two of us. I semi hoped to see you at the gate, to enjoy the trip even if it wasn’t with me. I even felt guilty, because you were excited and I felt like I took that from you. It was never my intention to be the villain in your story, on the contrary, I always try to make people feel better. It might take a little bit more for me to be over it. But you know what? I learned from this. To some extent, I’m glad it played out that way. Maybe the briefness was supposed to teach me (and maybe you) a lesson. Don’t use this bad situation as an excuse to not put yourself out there. You were working on being more open, so do it. Our friendship didn’t work out, but another one will. Fly, fly, fly.

I do wished we could have talked about it, truly talked about it. I would have gone to the ends of the world for you, but that’s just who I am. It’s hard to understand my personality, I know, but know that I never lied. I tried to be as honest with you as I could possibly be. From this, you should learn to know yourself a little bit better, know what things you’re ok with and what you’re not. It’s a shame I didn’t because I was 50% ready to end the friendship with you a month before you did, but I gave you the benefit of the doubt, joke’s on me. I’m still mad and hurt as hell with you. Because I believe I deserved better. I’m a good, kind person and I don’t think I deserved this. But oh well, live and learn. I thought I could leave the door open for us to be friends again at some point down the road. But I don’t know… In this aftermath I don’t know if I could. But to be honest, I’ll say I can’t and will probably do it. But who knows?

Carolyn 

P.S. You said I made you laugh. A few times you said that… who lets go of someone that makes them laugh? It baffles me.

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The end is a beginning

The end is a beginning

Find out who you are and do it on purpose

Dolly Parton 

As a 13 year old, I thought that 24 year olds had their life put together and knew what they were doing. Yet, here at 24 I do not know what I am doing. And of course it is not literally. I am working to get my PhD in order to be able to get the job I want. I mean it in a more personal way, this past year as I lived by myself for the first time I have grown so much as a person. But it hasn’t been without its ups and downs. There have been at least five life-changing experiences that have instructed me in how to be the woman I am working to become. I will talk about them because I know I am not alone and I want people that are still getting to know themselves to know that they’re not either. 

First, the biggest shock was moving from the place I called home for 23 years. And while I had the privilege of traveling before, nothing really prepared me to be far from home for an extended period of time, far from friends, family, and the land that saw me grow up. While I do enjoy having an apartment to myself, I was not prepared for its emptiness on the hard days, the days where I would usually just drive to my best friend’s house for ice cream or nachos, or just go out with her and have a laugh. These became movie nights with ice cream or nachos on a semi-comfortable couch with a nosy cat, all by myself. I’ve had to learn how to be comfortable by myself. And while I am still working on it, I am much better at it than when I first moved here. 

Secondly, I had to deal with the loss of a friend. While it wasn’t a friend that I hung out with often it was a friend that whenever I was feeling inadequate or insecure knew exactly what to say to cheer me up. I am known to be a drama queen, and he would always tell me to leave the drama to him (which would make me laugh), and whenever I feel down I still remember what he used to tell me: Fake it until you make it. The words reverberate in my mind and make me hold on when all I want to do is let go of everything. 

Fake it until you make it.

Thirdly, anyone that knows me knows how much I put into any relationship that I have. I am the friend that you can call at 3 a.m. and will drop everything to help you out. I will call you out on things, but I will also take care of you, worry about you if I see you hurting, and try to do my best in any situation. I am a true believer that everything has a solution. Hence, I hold on to things for far longer than I should because I try to fix everything. I had to learn the hard way that it is not possible to fix things if the other person is not willing to work on them too. It has always been hard for me to make friends, it either has to do with my high energy personality or the fact that being fat has always made me susceptible to jokes and bullying. Eventually, I was able to see past the jokes, and they rarely affect me anymore. Fast-forward circa 2015, a person I had been friends with since 2010, broke up with his girlfriend and started to hang out with me a lot more than we ever had. It was the greatest thing ever, I had a thing for him back when I met him, but by then I honestly wasn’t sure if I still had feelings for him or not, I just knew it felt nice to have a friend to hang out with. After the nicest six months, everything changed, he pushed me away, stopped talking to me, and claimed everything was fine. Had I taken the hint, I would have ended the friendship, and saved me a lot of headaches, but I wanted to figure out what was happening. Long story short, he was treating me like shit, but I kept coming back. Stockholm syndrome much? Our relationship had become toxic and I hadn’t noticed because I loved him, and because he was a dear friend. It took meeting a new person (because I wouldn’t listen to my friends) that ended up caring about me, to call me on my shit and for me to do something about this toxic relationship. Eventually I told him that he had repeatedly said that our friendship was over, so we shouldn’t contact each other anymore. He didn’t take it well, but also didn’t do something to fix it. Though I knew it was the right thing to do, I regretted it in the following minutes. After all, I am an optimist. Months have gone by, and while every once in a while I regret it, I also think it was for the best, and I feel good about it, because I had not felt that relaxed in a while until I called it quits. 

Our relationship had become toxic and I hadn’t noticed

Fourth, I would always see posts online, people saying how much a person helped them grow, and I would always think it was bullshit. After all, had I truly learned anything from my own friends? I thought I hadn’t. But then, by pure chance I met a person that has honestly changed me in ways I didn’t know I could/needed. He came and made me question everything I thought I knew. Showed me what a mature relationship was. Unsurprisingly, I fell for him. It was the first time that I hadn’t felt insecure about being fat, or inadequate for someone. I took a leap of faith, and I wrote a letter telling him what I felt for him. It was a really scary moment because he was my friend, and I didn’t want to lose that, but I also wanted to be truthful and honest. He thought it was cute and appreciated it (I am an open book, so he already knew). I was expecting him to push me away, but instead, he reassured me that I wasn’t going to lose him, and I didn’t. On the contrary, he showed me how much he cared about me, even if he didn’t reciprocate those feelings. Multiple times he showed me he loved me, by giving me advice; yelling at me for putting myself in situations where I would get hurt; or for failing to call him to say that I arrived home safely. He loves me, and wants the best for me, and he’s proved it with more than words. He told me things no one had before, words that I still remember: You’re a kind person and it makes me want to be kind to you too. He’s a jerk sometimes, but I love him anyway. It’s funny how you get to know someone so well in such a short period of time, and how much they end up meaning to you. 
The only bad thing is that the dick lives on the other side of the world, because why couldn’t I meet someone that lived within driving distance? (Because the world is cruel, that’s why).


He loves me, and wants the best for me, and he’s proved it with more than words.

Fifth and last, I met another person who was my friend for a little while. It all happened too fast, I honestly do not know why or how. I just know I started suggesting things to do, and this new friend would agree. He came by my place a couple times, we went out a handful of others. At some point, it looked like we were dating. I didn’t want to bring it up but luckily for me, he brought it up and we cleared up that nothing was going on. I did point out that everything I did with him, was the same I would have done for any of my friends, but unfortunately nothing went back to the way it was before. After a month of ignoring me (for the most part), he decided to call it quits. On the grounds that I made him anxious, that we talked more than he was comfortable with, and then he even dared tell me that I held onto my friend’s word that he liked me more than his own word, which was never the case. He made up his mind about me without letting me explain, without giving me the benefit of the doubt. I do not regret anything I did, because I did the best that I could. Whatever blame I had, I took responsibility for it and I was actively working to fix it. I guess in the end he wasn’t really my friend, and everything he told me about always being honest “and telling me things how they were”, was bullshit. Had he done it before, instead of putting up with it to “protect me”, we would have been able to fix it. But he waited to be fed up with it, and made his mind about me without giving me a say in the situation.

“One taught me loss, one taught me to let go, one taught me about life and one taught me growth.” 

I titled this “The end is a beginning” because I saw the end of of two friendships, the first a long and toxic relationship that I held on to longer than I should have, and the second one that was short-lived, but delightful while it lasted. And while they ended, something began. I am getting to know myself, I am determining what are my deal-breakers, so that I don’t prolong things that have no good ending in sight. And it hurt, because I have a hard time letting go of things. But I learned that it is part of growing up, and people will come and go, but everyone that you meet is a lesson learned, and I am a fool if I don’t learn from it. So I can’t be sad because it ended, I have to be happy it happened, and it brought me to a new beginning. 

Carolyn