• • •

A friend once told me that if someone likes you, you’ll know but if they don’t, you’ll be confused. I’ve found that to be a pretty accurate statement. Part of me wants to desperately listen to the voice in my head to play it cool and to not chase you but the other part wants to tell you, show you how deep my feelings go. I can feel myself growing attached to you and what happens when you grow attached to someone? The expectations seep in and cloud your judgment, they make it difficult for you to focus and cause you to do feel things you told yourself you wouldn’t feel again.

I want to be with you. I think that’s pretty evident. I want you to pull me in close, nuzzle my neck, wrap me up in your arms, play with my hair while I melt into your embrace and breathe in your scent. I want you to put your arm around my waist, touch the small of my back as we walk out to the dance floor and you pull me into your arms and sway to the music as if we’re the only two people in the room. I want you count the moments until you can see me again.

I’ve always wanted those things. But I want those things with someone who wants them with me too. Being friends is fine; I treasure our friendship, but these feelings I have, they’re not fleeting. This isn’t a crush. Eventually, after enough time has passed and I continue to not get my needs met, the feelings will fade and you’ll notice my pattern of communication shift, my attention change. And then, I’m sure, I will no longer be confused.

I haven’t stopped thinking about you all weekend. It’s the hardest thing to do, to not think about you. l’ve gotten so used to it and I like it. I like thinking about your soft, deep voice, your impeccable sense of style and how you brought out the best of me with your emotional intelligence and vulnerability. You have no idea how long l’ve searched for that sense of…completeness.

I’d fallen for you hard but it was a nice hurt. But the adrenaline has had time to wear off and the only thing I’m left with now is the pain and the ache of being without you. I became attached to you very quickly, which is not something that happens for me and I took that as a good sign. I only wanted to make you happy.

I am in the process of untangling myself from these feelings, although I don’t think I’ll ever really let go of all of them. Your effect on me was profound, full of hope and excitement, and I think I’ll forever be chasing those feelings you gave me. I wonder if I left you with anything worth holding on to?

You said you still want to be friends. I think I’ll always want to be more than friends. At least, until I won’t. For a brief second you were mine and I cherished that; I’m not sure if you knew how much. You came into my life for a reason and it was a hard lesson to learn.

I’m here, if you change your mind.

I said, “we’ve known each other for almost a year”. You said, “it feels like a lot longer”. I laughed with you but inside, my heart lurched and tears immediately stung my eyes. Don’t fucking cry I repeated over and over in my head. Don’t let him see that he made you cry…again. Why not? Why the fuck not? He doesn’t care that he makes you cry. He doesn’t care about you.

I deluded myself into thinking that you had to feel something, some kind of affection, for as often as we communicated. But deep down, I know that you don’t. I tried. I tried to get myself to forget about you, to stop reaching out but every time that I resolved myself to do so, you’d swoop back in and charm me like you do. Honestly, it doesn’t take much. I was convinced that you knew exactly how I felt; you’re not stupid and I’m a bad actress.

Why do I allow myself to care about someone who clearly doesn’t feel the same? Why do I allow myself to condone derisive, dismissive behavior? It infuriates me because I deserve someone who worships me and makes me feel adored. It hurts like a bitch to know that I would never make the cut. That I’ll never be the one who you think about constantly with longing and desire.

And yet, there’s something about our relationship that I cannot be without…don’t want to be without. A day without hearing from you and I am moping around feeling empty and sullen. The second I hear from you my demeanor changes and the sun is shining and the angels are singing. It’s crazy, I know it is. I try to distract myself from thinking of you and it works, for a little while but ultimately, when I’m lying in bed alone at the end of the night, my thoughts turn to you and you follow me into my dreams.

The biggest irony of this situation is that if you did care about me, even just a little bit, I wouldn’t want anything to do with you. I’d lose all interest and any emotional attachment I had would disappear. I think it would anyway. It always has in the past. Maybe one day I’ll know for sure.

My father is a man of very few words. I am reminded of this during our quarterly phone calls. I am also reminded of the fact that we are very much alike…and I hate that. My father is a stoic, apathetic man who talks on the surface level and never once expressed any interest in me as a person, let alone as his daughter. He calls me once every three months and talks for five minutes and fulfills his fatherly duty of staying in touch. I have no idea who my father is and yet, I know exactly what he’s about because I’m his daughter. I have longed for that father/daughter relationship all my life. The one where he is protective and comforting and giving of himself because he would sacrifice anything to help me grow as a person. The one where we confide in one another and he imparts sage advice based on the many years of watching me develop into the woman I am today. The one where when I see his number pop up on my phone, I don’t cringe and let it go to voicemail. Yep, it’s pretty safe to say that I have daddy issues. 

This entry is supposed to be about the man who had the greatest impact on my life. That sounds like a positive thing, right?  Well, the man that has the greatest impact on my life has been my father, and it’s not been positive. This is so heavy to unpack and will more than likely require multiple entries to really understand but for now, it’s important to know that mine and my father’s relationship is strained and super awkward. When we talk, I never elaborate any further than, “yeah, work is going well” and “Taylor [my son] is fine”. That’s another thing. My son is 29 years old. He’s probably seen my father literally a handful of times. It’s very sad and yet, I don’t feel as though my son has missed out on much. I don’t see how having my dad in my son’s life would have been beneficial in any way. The tragic profundity of that statement is hard to wrap my head around. 

My father’s greatest impact on my life has been his literal absence – both physically and emotionally. Sure, he’s always been there, in some way, in the background, but the connection never felt genuine. The words, “you have always been there for me” would never come out of my mouth because they’re not true and they would be so hollow that I fear I would choke on them. In fact, the only thing I can honestly say that my father has taught me is that being his daughter is messy and, based on his actions, should be avoided.

I am leaving for Paris, France in 3 ½ weeks. This is my first international trip in over thirty-five years. The longing to visit Paris has been with me my whole life and this year, finally, is when I make that dream a reality. I don’t travel often, primarily because I work so much and despite having four weeks of vacation, I am subtly discouraged from taking it because we are so short staffed at work. But that’s a topic for another time. For now, I want to linger on the anticipation of having the time of my life in the City of Lights.

I am not going to Paris to run around the city and check off visiting a bunch of tourist attractions. Yes, there are touristy things I do want to see but my goal is to wander around the city, enjoy the culture, the people, the absolute Parisian-ness of it all and maybe make a new friend or two. Oh, and gorge myself on delicious food and wine, of course! But more than that, I want to prove to myself that I can travel to an international city alone, navigate the city with nothing more than a basic knowledge of the French language, and do it all looking fabulous! I want this experience to bear so many lovely and wonderful memories that will last a lifetime or, at least until I go back again and make more.

Yes, I’m going solo. This inherently scares me because it means I actually have to rely on my wits in order to get around. I can’t just turn to my traveling companion and ask “how do we get there?”. I have to figure it out. And I am completely capable but I typically like having things done for me (I mean, who doesn’t?). I think going solo is going to make this experience that much richer and more significant for me because everything I do, everyone I interact with will be my choice and by me making those choices they will be much more intentional and curated. I love this. I am normally super impulsive so making intentional choices is an unfamiliar concept for me. In fact, this whole trip was an impulsivity that, once started, I couldn’t stop. It’s how I experience life. Impulsive choice first, consequences later. But this year, this year I told myself that I am going to start intentionally living life, enjoying those things, places, people, connections I’ve only talked about and this trip to Paris is the first of many of those experiences. 

I’ve always been very sexually open minded. At least, I always thought I was. Until I met you. I had no idea what sexually open minded was until you taught me to question and explore and push boundaries that I didn’t even know existed. Yielding to this pleasure is addicting, frustrating, intoxicating, terrifying and so incredibly satisfying that I can’t imagine being without it…without this new me, the me that craves these experiences, the me that screams yes to sexual encounters without limits, the me that thinks differently about what it means to be a sexual being. Embracing and nurturing the kink. It’s more than just creating an act with my body, it’s the idea that pleasure comes from a psychological need and that separating myself from the emotional aspect of sex is so freeing, so liberating that I am slightly frightened by where it will take me. But that’s what’s so exciting about it…the uncertainty of what I’ll find when I turn the corner. What kind of extremeness I’ll find myself involved in; it’s thrilling and I can’t get enough of it.

Down and dirty truth: people use me for their own benefit and I’m left to wonder what the fuck happened. It’s been happening most of my life. It’s because I’m a people pleaser. Not because I want people to like me, mostly because I stink at confrontation and just want things to be harmonious. I know that. I own that. Well, fuck that. Life is too short to do shit that I don’t want to do just to make someone else happy. No one else does that for me. No one else has a problem telling me no. No one else has an issue making me feel uncomfortable when they want something from me. 

Please stop making people feel bad for saying no. There are a myriad of reasons why someone says no and…[surprise!]…THEY’RE ALL VALID. Please stop crossing people’s boundaries just to get your needs met. Doing so will only fester anger and resentment. And ultimately, make me not want to entertain any sort of connection with you. I’ve tried to spare feelings by using gentle excuses but those don’t seem to get the point across like a fast and hard “no thank you”. Just no. Don’t call me a bitch because I am protecting my boundaries. That’s your issue, not mine. 

For those that are struggling with saying no, how many events, favors, activities have you agreed to attend, do, participate in that you really didn’t want to and could have been avoided by simply saying no? Get comfortable saying it because it’s going to teach people how not to treat you. And get comfortable hearing it because, yeah, I’m going to be saying it a lot.

Decisions. We make them all the time. In fact, research suggests that we make 35,000 decisions every single day. That’s a lot of fucking decisions. I find that number astounding and then I started to wonder, how many of those decisions do I regret? I have research for that too which says that people end up regretting about a fifth of all our decisions. A FIFTH. That is 7,000 decisions PER DAY. Alright, so I’m sure a ton of those decisions are automatic: our brain and bodies thinking for us (keep breathing or you die) but many of those decisions involve a significant thought process, a flow chart, if you will, that almost makes it feel like we are deciding whether to start a nuclear war rather than just choosing between ice cream or whip cream with our pie. I’ve probably made 12,000 decisions alone in writing this paragraph.

Regrets are [inevitable] [part of life] [waste of time] [insert pithy quote here]. They often come with distressing consequences which are meant to cause us to change our future behavior. But what if we make decisions knowing we’re going to regret our choice (not eventually but instantly) and we do it anyway? What?! What kind of person would do that? Read on!

Now I know what you’re thinking: she’s a fairly intelligent, emotionally stable, mentally balanced person who’s also a therapist so if anyone would know better than to make an instantly regrettable decision it would be her, right? Right?!? Dear reader, your faith in me is heartening albeit perhaps misguided, and I love you for it.

Most of my instantly regrettable decisions involve other people, relationships that aren’t living up to my expectations. I feel that people come into our lives for a reason, whether that’s to enhance our life, cause some suffering to teach us a lesson, or make us look hard at what we’re doing and if it aligns with our values. Not everyone is going to be able to stick around forever, and that’s ok. Guess what? They’re not supposed to. Feel the loss, yes, but move on and know the universe will bring you someone better and more deserving of you.

Decisions, choices, actions shape who we are and create experiences in our lives that involve a lot of pain, suffering, problem solving and yes, regret. But, if done with a modicum of thought and openness, can also provide us with some learning and insight about ourselves. We are always going to make the wrong decisions but hopefully we will meet the consequences head on and become better human beings for it.

Kristine has been my best friend for over thirty years. She has been a constant in my life since I was 17 years old. Not a lot of people can say that about another person, let alone a best friend. She is unlike any other human being I’ve ever known. She is a fiercely loyal friend, something I can honestly say I have not always been. She can take a soul crushing situation for which you can see no hope and in fifteen minutes have you laughing about it until tears are rolling down your cheeks and your belly aches. That is not only a good friend, that is a truly remarkable friend. I can honestly say that I would not be where I am in life had it not been for her influence, love and support.

We have grown apart recently. Not intentionally but life and its responsibilities take a toll on relationships unless you are committed to nurturing them and, in all honesty, I’ve been giving all my energy toward fleeting novelty to make our relationship a priority. But last night she said something that hit me hard: stop spending time on people who don’t love you. Oh fuck.

There it was. Hanging in the air. Cannot take that one back. Nor should I. She is right. I focus too much of my attention on people who don’t love me and then wonder why I’m so fucking miserable. I chase the unattainable. I want what I cannot have. If I could have it, I wouldn’t want it. She knows me like no one else and that is both a comfort and a danger. You can’t hide from that shit and I am notorious like no other at hiding from some shit.

Last night she said to me, “You are over here blowing up bridges left and right and then think you can patch them up with some fragile, brittle sticks and still get to where you want to go. It doesn’t work that way. Oh sure, the footing looks solid, until you take a step and realize the next one will have you floating downstream. Stop trying to repair shit that is only going to take you further out to shore. Go inland. That’s where the people who love you are.”

Our conversation last night buoyed me. I missed my friend. I missed the laughter, the honesty, the vulnerability. There’s no judgment, no animosity, nothing that would leave anyone feeling any ill will. I’m going to stop picking up sticks. Sure, I may still blow up a few bridges but I’m done trying to use them to get me where I want to go. I’m headed inland.

You’re on my mind all the time, my god I cannot catch a break. Got me hooked and then you booked…I doubt I even got to read a page.

One day very soon, you won’t cross my mind. I cannot wait for that day. No more waking up to messages meant to pull me back to that head space where I think there’s a possibility. The slightest bit of attention from you has my head spinning and you know it too. I will soon see clearly through this veil of lies and will no longer succumb to your pretend interest.

Make no mistake: I’m better than this, stronger than you, and I will break this hold you have over me. It’s just a matter of time. Every day gets easier. You don’t like that, do you? The fact that I’m untangling myself from your emotional bullshit. 💔