Tag: love

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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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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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Electric Touch

Just breathe, just relax, it’ll be okay…
I’ve got my money on things going badly
Got a history of stories ending sadly
Still hoping that the fire won’t burn me
Just one time, just one time

Taylor Swift

I like to think that I am someone who has a very bright and positive outlook on life. Except when it comes to relationships, I haven’t had “luck”. I have come across men that see just how good, motivated, driven I am but none of them want to rise to my level to keep me in their lives and they’d rather just walk away. In hindsight, some of them wouldn’t have made good partners, something I didn’t notice at the time, but they have made good friends.

It’s been an uphill battle for me to feel and know that I am worthy of love, I grew up feeling like no one would like me, much less love me, because I was fat or because I was “too much”. More than once I heard things like “men don’t like that”, as if I needed to cater to them. Saw many movies in which the fat characters were the comedic relief. In others the women that had high standards were regarded too much, or if they had careers they were the single, drunk, fun aunt. Women had to take up the least amount of space, not be needy, couldn’t speak their mind, otherwise no one would want to have a relationship with them. At a lot of points in my life I have been made to feel like I was not good enough.

I find that I write when I’m at extremes, either I am not feeling great or I am feeling my best. Right now, I am in the middle, it feels like both the worse and the best moment.

All I know is this could either break my heart or bring it back to life
Got a feeling your electric touch could fill this ghost town up with life
And I want you now, wanna need you forever
In the heat of your electric touch

Taylor Swift

In “Electric Touch” Taylor Swift talks about how it just takes one time to get “it” right. She also goes into talking about how she hopes that this time the fire won’t burn her. This relationship will either break her heart or bring it back to life. This song is very on-point with how I’m feeling at this moment. I lost my hope that I’ll find my person, people that I love tell me over and over how when I’m least expecting it they will pop up. That hasn’t happened so far. I have worked on myself, I am at a better place than I was last year, for example. I found myself, I don’t let society’s standards of beauty dictate what I wear, who I date, how I feel about myself. I heard that once I did those things that person would come. I didn’t do it for that imaginary person, I did it for myself, and boy is it better to love yourself despite what others say rather than hate everything about yourself, but they haven’t arrived. He hasn’t arrived.

As I was about to give up on finding someone, I met someone, someone who compliments me, wants me, likes me. Meeting this person, going out on dates, kissing them, made me have hope, maybe I have found my person, I knew it was too early to determine anything but it gave me hope. It happened very quick, I had never clicked that fast with someone, we went out for the first time. I got to the restaurant first, got us a table, and then as soon as he sat down, he grabbed my hands. At first it felt awkward, weird, but mostly my heart was trying to fall off my chest, then it felt normal, natural as if we had been doing it forever, as if it wasn’t the first time. During dinner, we talked about our likes, working out, our lives, he complimented my outfit, my accessories, it just made me blush and he loved it. He paid for the bill, we decided to walk around after eating and I wanted to change my shoes, as I was wearing heels and they’re definitely not made to walk, just before I sat down to swap them, he turned me towards him and kissed me. It was unexpected but felt very nice. I swear I felt I was in a movie, you know the scene, two characters are on a date, and he grabs her arm and in slow motion, spins her towards him so he can meet her lips, holds her hips and pulls them towards him as he deepens the kiss. That’s how it felt. During the night he stole a lot more kisses and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. We didn’t feel like strangers.


As we were navigating things, this person realized that maybe he wasn’t ready to offer me what I deserved. Which shattered the shred of hope I had. At the same time I realized I had my own anxieties in relationships which made me understand maybe I wasn’t as ready for a relationship as much as I wanted it. As we were both learning about ourselves in a relationship, we decided to keep navigating things together and as we kept hanging out we found out how much we liked each other. We hit road bumps for sure, I am a very outgoing motivated person, he’s much more reserved. Our first fight, we pushed a lot of buttons, unknowingly of course. But we both felt we could get to a point we were both comfortable, we both want to keep the other around and we want to make it work.

My hope was that I didn’t get burned, I am tired of having people to come into my life just for me to learn a lesson, I can be happy and learn a lesson, those things are not exclusive. I gave it my best effort, yet it wasn’t enough. All the sweetness, all the stolen kisses, ended up being a lie. He thought we’d be a good match and he went all in — found out we weren’t and after giving me the high, left me. Even though I was clear time and time again that we should take things slow.

If anything is a lesson here — never let people walk over your boundaries. Be skeptical, it’s easy to miss the red flags. It’s easy to mistake the lack of peace, the stress and anxiety with something else. I thought all the bad feelings were my thoughts of not being enough, when in reality, it was my body’s way of protecting me by letting me know he wasn’t my person, I know better now. And I will do better.

To you, fuck you. You disguised yourself as this sweet, kind guy when in reality you’re the worst kind of man.

I got burned and it was the best thing that could have happened to me.

P.S. I have had this in my queue for monthssss, it was time to polish it and publish it.

As always,

With love (except you),

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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When We Were Young

When We Were Young

“Everyone here is watching you because you feel like home” – Adele

Due to life and human behavior, last year I ended a 8-year old friendship with one my best friends (whom we will call Sam). It was with the help of a another friend but nonetheless my decision. Seeing the response to my distancing text (which in retrospect should have been a conversation but honestly I had had enough), my then-friend responded distant instead of trying to keep me close and maintain our friendship. How we got there came from numerous places, a lot which I don’t remember. What I do know is that I could have been more vocal instead of letting him get away with a lot of things for the sake of our friendship. Which is why I needed help in taking the final step. But I think a lot, if not all of the problem that led us there started years ago, we just weren’t truthful with each other. We met during high school started being friends and I had a crush and similar to your cliche rom-com, it was not reciprocated and God knows why, it took me years to get over it. While telling myself I was over it, of course, it’s just now, looking back that I realized I wasn’t. To some extent still am not. Difference is, back then, things used to bother me so much more to the point of affecting me and affecting my actions, not to say that nothing gets to me now but I’ve managed to try not let as many things get to me as before. He would say things I wanted to hear so I wouldn’t keep pressing on it and both of us were wrong, I shouldn’t have pushed, he shouldn’t have said things he didn’t mean to do. But he would, and I would go along with it instead of being firm and calling it out. So I guess we’re both to blame there.

A year passed since I “broke up” with Sam, a year of wanting to pick up the phone and wanting to fix things, that’s what I do, I try to fix things. Maybe I don’t but at least I tried. A year of enduring a lot of shit by myself because I didn’t have my best buddy to call or to get to stop by. But I had to keep reminding myself that while yes, I told him to stay away, more than what I said, his actions (and mine) led me there. But it still didn’t make me feel any less crappy. And I would have been the world’s biggest hypocrite if I picked the phone and called because I needed something after calling it quits… I’m a very touchy-emotional person and having to break with one of your best friends was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. But I did for the good of my mental health. The last few months, whenever we saw each other it was nothing but little fights and passive aggressive comments and when I sent that definitive text didn’t get nothing but a goodbye text instead of a “let’s try to talk this out, this is too rash” or called me out like “this isn’t you, what’s going on?” so I figured I made the right decision; Sam didn’t care so why should I? But I did, so much that a year later (aka., a few weeks ago) I decided to send out a text, not expecting anything back if I’m being honest, Sam is not one to reply too often, I figured that after everything he had blocked my number or that had even changed numbers; I sent it because I felt bad how we had left things. Turns out we were finally on the same page. Figure that one out! He had been wanting to reach out but out of “respect” to what I said, hadn’t. I think it’s bullshit, if you want to reach out to someone, do it, they might be feeling the same way. Clearly, we were but sure, I understand that I drew a very definitive line. We went out and managed to work it out. But I missed out on a few good (and bad) things that happened so I’m still bummed about that. To be honest seeing him against almost felt like no time had passed. Yeah, I missed important things, but he was still the same person (except eating habits, vegan? Really?). The topic of how I decided to walk away came up and he replied that he knew I didn’t arrive to that conclusion by myself, when I questioned how he knew: “because I know you, and that wasn’t you” which was nice to hear. Guess he does know me indeed, but he agreed that I had to look out for myself first even if that was what I had to do.

This post is titled after Adele’s song from 25 and it started with a quote from the same song. This is due to several things. We used to fangirl to Adele a lot (so I thought it’d be a nice reminiscing thing) and I hadn’t listened to her music in a long time and recently got back into it and remembered how much this song has always reminded me of him. Not necessarily because the story is familiar but because the description of the guy fits him. He might not think so but people adore him, either because he’s utterly oblivious or because he’s that humble and doesn’t think they should. Who knows? But I see it often, girls get so smitten, I can’t blame them though. I said before “to some extent I still have a crush” yeah, that shit got stirred up when we met again. Things that I didn’t know were there came knocking at the door. Had you asked me a year ago: “hey, do you still like him?” I would have said no and wouldn’t have been lying. But now? I’m not sure. Maybe it’s not that at all. Maybe it’s just all the excitement of having my friend back. Neither of us thought we’d see each other again. And it’s not like I’m siting in a corner waiting to hear how much he likes me either. I’ve done the “liking your friend that doesn’t like you” before at least twice, it sucks for all of five minutes and you move on. I’ve learned that as long as you know boundaries you can be friends, heck, best friends with someone you like. I’ve seen it happen. Some of you on the other side might be groaning “friend zone!” or “that’s a crappy situation to be in” and you could be right, but also, situations are what we make of them. I can choose to feel crappy because they don’t like me back or I can choose to feel good because I have them as friends. Not the same, true, but why feel crappy on purpose? Am I supposed to cut off every person I like because they don’t like me back? No, we’re grown ups and grown ups can learn to work with the situations they’re put in (or are supposed to haha). Count your blessings and don’t care where they came from. There are not a lot of good people on this planet and the ones that choose to spend their time with you even if it’s not how you wanted still warrants affection and respect. Time is precious.

This seems like “omg she’s settling for the friend”, and not really. Look, I’ll admit it sucks liking someone that doesn’t like you back, but it also feels good as hell to have adult relationships where you’re both mature and can keep being friends in spite of a silly things like that. I mean sure, I’ve also lost friendships for the same shit (if you’ve read the previous blog posts you know what I’m talking about, if not I talk about it in The End is a Beginning and Live and Learn and I also mention a little bit of what happened with the friend I talk about here) but that’s just an example of how not all people are the same. And the ones willing to stick with you in spite of circumstances are the ones that are worthy of you and your time. So choose your friends wisely, your time is valuable; so is theirs. Appreciate it.

This started like a sappy post and I guess it ended like one. But I am honestly happy. It’s not everyday you get to welcome back your best friend. After doing one of the hardest things I had ever done, and having solved it 13 months after, seems like it was in vain, and maybe, but I also think we needed time, maybe not 13 whole months, but that’s how it happened and there’s nothing we can do. We could have handled it better for sure… but I guess we’re now stronger because of it.

I’ll keep you guys updated 😉

Carolyn