30

This week I turn 30!  Yikes, that seems so old, something that used to feel so far away.  Much like my Quarter Life Crisis at 25, I have not been handling the fast approaching golden birthday very well.  People who knew me in college might be surprised by that because I used to think 30 was the perfect age.  I used to think 30 would be when I would have life all figured out, I would be settled down. I didn’t expect 30 to be sharing my over priced apartment with no closet space with my newly adopted cat.  

I have been looking back on my 20s and have regretted some of the boys and the wild nights. Feeling like I have lost time on all the wrong people. Maybe I should be realizing that they were the right people to get me to where I am. That is what your 20s are for. Making mistakes, falling for the wrong people, realizing what you really want in the right one. Your 20s are for making unbreakable friendships, the friends who become family, the friends who know everything about you. Your 20s are for chasing your dreams and finding the career path that not just pays the bills but makes you happy.

But what are your 30s supposed to be for? What will this next decade (don’t like it) hold? Unlike the disappointing self inflicted expectations of my 20s I am not setting timelines for my life anymore.  I just want to live life as best I can. Travel and see as much as I can. Love the people in my life. Stop worrying about what is missing and focus on what I have.  

Even though 30 does not thrill me I am doing what I do best, and throwing a big party.  Well a two part extravaganza really.  It all kicks off Friday night with a rooftop party overlooking the White House.  There will be champagne and rose, flowers, friends, and Chick-fil-a chicken nuggets!  What more could a girl ask for?  Maybe a fun theme?  Well, I have that covered too!  Party Like a Pineapple!  Pineapples are sweet on the inside, stand tall, and wear a crown, just like me!  Pineapples represent hospitality, are something every home should have, and just happen to be something I collect.  The celebration will roll right into Saturday with a party bus to Virginia wine country with my nearest and dearest.  I will wrap up the weekend with a killer hangover that I will get over just in time to drink more wine while eating pizza and watching Game of Thrones!  It will be a weekend full of all my favorite people and all of my favorite things.  

Although I made some mistakes in my 20s, I can’t imagine my life being any different than it is right now.  I hope the next decade (nope still don’t like it) is full of more adventures with my friends and a time for me to continue to grow.  Also, full of wine … always more wine!

Roller Coaster of Emotions (The Sequel)

Last week was a whirlwind, a roller coaster of emotions*, if you will.  After a birthday party to end all parties on Saturday, I found myself in kind of lackluster mood.  I don’t really know how to describe it.  It was like I knew my actual birthDAY would not be able to live up to my party.  At the same time, I knew that was the point of the epic birthday party, to go all out - because my birthday was in the middle of the week.  

When the day rolled around, I was swamped at work, and 5pm could not get here any faster.  I had dinner reservations at Cava Mezze, one of my favorite place in DC.  There were 8 of us, and dinner was so much fun! We talked about TV, dating apps, and everything else under the sun.  I then went with Chloe to Meg’s house so we could watch Pretty Little Liars and The Vineyard (So obsessed, reason why to come in a different post).  It was great just spending time with my amazing friends!  

I once again was pushing my twitter campaign to have Rob Lowe wish me happy birthday.  Again this year, it did not work out, but my favorite Good Morning America anchor, Josh Elliott, came to my rescue again this year.  Thank you, Josh, for making my birthday so much more special!   

The real shocker of the week was my run in with Liam (See The Many Loves of my Life).  Well, if you can call seeing him at a bar and walking in the other direction as running into someone, then that is what happened.  I was at a place downtown that I never go.  Katie and I were there for a going away party for one of the boys, Mac, who is leaving for Officer Candidate School.  Of course, Mac is incredibly late for his own party.  I had just ordered a drink, was turning away from the bar to talk to Katie, and right over my shoulder I found Liam’s roommate Michael.  I used to really get along with Michael back in the day, so I felt the need to say hi, not even thinking that it probably meant Liam was also there.  Sure enough while we are exchanging pleasantries I see Liam from over his shoulder.  I kind of freeze and instead of saying hi to him, I tell Michael it was good to see him and walk away.  

I felt like I had just seen a ghost.  I had forgotten how tall he is, and I immediately regretted not having heels on.  I was so glad the loud music covered the booming coming from my chest.  I needed to breathe, and find a way to go say hello.  I had thought about this for months now, ever since I saw him at the metro.  I just knew we would rekindle our friendship if we just ran into each other.  Except the shock of seeing him again made it feel like friendship is not an option.  I don’t know how to talk to him anymore, or if he even wants to talk to me.  When he left 2 years ago I gave him a note that said, among other things, that I would always be there for him if he ever wanted my friendship again.  He hasn’t.  

When I finally got the nerve to go say hello, he was gone.  I missed my opportunity.  A gchat or email will never have the warmth needed to help choose to give someone another chance.  Looking someone in the eye and trying to remember why you were even mad in the first place, that is how you realize you're over something.  I walked away from my chance to get over him, or to be forgiven for whatever grave offense he believes I committed so many years ago.  

In many ways I am glad it happened this way.  For two years I have been holding on to a glimmer of hope that one day he might love me.  Months ago, when I spotted him at the metro, I feared that we might always be strangers in a crowd, now I know we are.  It is a painful reality.  I had hoped that seeing me might remind him of the amazing times we had as friends.  

My mother likes to say that Liam is a flawed man, but surprisingly, I don’t see it that way.  Although he shut me out, I know that Liam is a good man.  Good men are hard to find, and that is why knowing once and for all that our story has come to an end is so painful.  It hurts to have a good man choose to walk away, choose not to talk to you, and choose life without you.

Although this hurt, hurts, I still feel blessed!  As depressed as I got about turning a year older, I came out of it with a few very important truths about myself.  I am absolutely blessed with wonderful, caring friends who make me laugh, are there to talk, wipe my tears, and know when a cocktail is needed.  These people that fill my life are my family, and like family they love me for all of my quirks.  Also, I remembered the most important part, I am who I am and I love me for it.  My thighs will probably always rub together when I walk, and my arm may always wave back at me, but that is okay.  I do not need to change me to please other people.  The man that I am meant to be with with will love me exactly how I am.      

As you can see, last week I came full circle.  I know I am not always the most upbeat person, and on this blog I am very honest, and self-deprecating.  I do want all of you to know that I may not always be comfortable in my own skin, but I am getting there.  Thank you for taking this journey with me, and being apart of one of my many blessings.  

*Roller Coaster of Emotions(The Original)

Birthday Blues

How is it possible to love your life and be so sad at the same time?  I guess it is the birthday crisis setting in.  I am going to be a year older next week - 26.  I love my life, but then I see the lives of people with whom I grew up or went to college, and their lives seem great too.  Completely opposite, but wonderful still.  They are getting engaged, married, having babies: what I always thought I would be doing at this time in my life.  

Living in DC, I wouldn’t want to be married right now, but you step out of this bubble, and you see people all around you moving forward in life.  In DC, we move forward with our careers, but our personal lives are stuck in college.  We are all stuck in a dating cesspool, where people hook up and have “complicated things”, but it is rare to find something real and lasting.  I chose to build a life in a city where everyone postpones love to a more convenient time.

Somewhere in the last three years, I have evolved into something about which I am not sure.  I have allowed myself to morph from this Marilyn sex symbol that I was proud of to “Momma Bear”.  When did I become the sensible, put together one?  When did my life become nothing worth writing about?  I have struggled over the last several weeks to come up with something to share with all of you.  There have been no exciting stores of sexscapades or outragous nights.  There have been no new crushes or the potential of falling in love.  I have become uninteresting.  

My reality at 26 is that I have 4 different dating apps on my phone, and yet not been on a date with anyone from them.  I haven’t been in a serious relationship in a decade, haven’t had sex since Valentine’s Day, and haven’t had good sex since Stefan.  

There was a time when I was vivacious, confident, and unwavering.  When I left college I had found a comfort in myself, and in many ways it is still there, but the voices of the frat boys are creeping back in.  I hear them calling me “Bee’s Fat friend” all over again.  I was thinner back then.  I would kill to be that small again, and yet I let so many boys define me in such derogatory terms.  I let my own self worth be based on a bunch of drunk frat boys who wanted to keep me their dirty little secret.  I tried to leave that behind me, but even my relationship with D painted me as the dirty mistress.  Keeping me at arm’s length, and playing my own insecurities against me.    

One of the biggest things I can be proud of in the past year, besides getting an amazing job, is walking away from D.  Looking back on my Quarter life Crisis (my birthday last year), it was predominantly because of my relationship, or lack thereof, with him.  It was like coming up for air for the first time in a year and half.  What I didn’t realize was, that as long as I was hiding behind my feelings for D, I didn’t have to face the reality that I was become less desirable.  I am the kind of pretty that only gay men and other women appreciate.  Well dressed, hide my flaws well, hair and makeup always done.                   

As I prepare for my birthday party, I continue to worry about all the details.  My private party in the basement of my favorite Hill bar now carries the burden of being epic.  I need it to be epic.  I need the excitement.  I need to be reminded that I am not irrelevant in peoples lives.  I have decorations, a playlist, and Anna is making the cake.  My dress is picked out, I am getting my makeup done, and my crash diet is underway.  Even though I am sharing the night with Chance (against his protest), and most people are coming because of him, I want a moment to remember.  

Birthdays used to be one of my favorite things in the world.  It is the one day (or week) that the whole world has to celebrate you!  I loved getting older!  I couldn’t wait until I turned 30.  Now I see them for what they are - milestones of broken dreams.  A reminder of all the things you wanted to do but haven’t been able to.  A warning that you are getting older but you aren’t getting any smarter or (insert adjustive of your choice).  I never thought I would have the birthday blues.  

I know that Saturday will be fun, not because I need it to be, but because all the people that care about me will be there to help me celebrate.  I will be surrounded by love and lots and lots of shots.  Yes, I might not be the sexpot that I used to be, but I’m not 22 anymore either.  And that is ok.  It is ok to age gracefully, and to do a little growing up along the way.   

   

Caring: How to Stop

We spend so much of our lives worrying about what other people think.  I know I make myself physically sick sometimes worrying how other people perceive me, or thinking that I did something unpleasing to those I care about.  I worry about what the world thinks; I worry about rejection, sometimes so much so that the anxiety is overwhelming.  

I worry when my hair is not in place, and I don’t leave the house without makeup on.  I squeeze into Spanx everyday to make my curvaceous figure more appealing.  I worry that the number of men I have slept with is too high, and I also worry that no one will ever want to sleep with me again.  I worry that every time a boy kisses me, I am going to be added to his list of mistakes - the fat girl who he is ashamed he hooked up with.   

I worry about hurting my loved ones’ feelings, or being unable to please them.  I am a people-pleaser, so when someone rejects me, I look at it like I am unpleasing, I didn’t do what I am supposed to do.  As a Southern woman I feel that it is my job to make everyone feel welcomed, comfortable, and happy.  I want to be well-liked.  Not really out of ego, but out of anxiety.

Part of me has started to realize that I can’t please everyone.  I am human, and I make mistakes.  In trying to please the world, I have forgotten to please myself.  I am not saying I won’t take responsibility for my actions; I will apologize when I misbehave.  I just can not dwell on things I can’t change after an apology has been made.    

There is this movie that Anna and I are obsessed with caled “Bachelorette”.  (Spoilers to follow, kind of) It is a dark comedy starring Kirsten Dunst, Rebel Wilson, Isla Fisher, and Lizzy Caplan.  I have found my current life motto from this film.  If you know anything about the movie you might be like, “Really?”  Once you get past the cocaine, strippers, and outwardly fucked-up friendships/relationships, there is something deeper.  Really, it is the friendship between Kirsten Dunst’s character Regan and Rebel Wilson’s character Becky that brings about my new motto.  

At first, you think that Regan hates Becky, and you don’t realize why she is her maid of honor.  Becky (Rebel Wilson) is a heavier woman, and she is getting married to a smoking hot man.  It is obvious that Regan tries to be perfect, and her attempts come off as a cold hearted bitch, or maybe she is a cold hearted bitch.  She feels like she is the one who should be getting married, for several reasons that are not relevant here.  Then there is this moment when Becky catches Regan trying to purge because of stress, and you realize Becky and Regan share something much deeper.  They have a history.  In high school, Becky covered up for Regan’s bulimia and got upset when people spread rumors that it was her who was bulimic.  Regan had told her to “Fuck Everyone” and that was what Becky was telling her to do now.      

Right before Becky is about to walk down the aisle, she freaks out and says she can’t go through with it.  She looks at Regan and says, “Everyone thinks I am too fat to marry him.”  Regan grabs her by the shoulders, looked her dead in the eyes, and says “Fuck Everyone!”  

That’s it.  That is the key to finding my comfort and happiness - Fuck everyone!  Fuck the stupid jackass who, after weeks of flirting with me, told me he didn’t find me physically attractive.  Fuck the people at the state society picnic who looked at me like a leopard because I have put on 20 pounds since college.  Fuck D and the cloud of darkness he brought to my life for a year and a half.  Fuck the supposed friends who have alienated me, leaving me to feel unwanted and inadequate.  I have struggled with when to stop fighting to keep them and when to walk away.  Now is that time.  Too many people do want me in this world to focus on the ones who don’t.  Fuck the people who have or will ever call me fat.  I have spent too much time caring what the world thinks.  Too much time letting everyones’ opinions of me dictate who I am going to be.  Now is the time to worry about me - my wants, my needs, and what makes me happy!  Because I deserve to be happy.  I have not always thought that I did, but I know now I really do.                    

The Truth Hurts

I might have just fucked up my life.  I never thought I would say it in words, but I did.  I just told a boy with a girlfriend that I loved him, and I just fucked my life up.  

I don’t know how to move on from this.  I don’t know how to love another, but at the end of the day, I loved him.  I lost my job 2 weeks ago.  I thought I would recover, but instead I fell apart.  Everything seems to be falling apart.

I am so lost after telling the truth, and I never thought about what I would say afterwards.  All I had to do was keep pretending, and I couldn’t.  Why couldn’t I keep pretending?    

I would rather lay on top of the covers and feel the cold that my heart is also feeling.  I am breaking again.  I know it wasn’t right of me to say it.  I know he made his choice months ago, a year ago, but my heart never walked away.  No matter how much I told it to, no matter how much my head ventured away, my heart stayed with the situation that could never make it happy, a boy with a girlfriend.  

I didn’t love him when he kissed me.  I didn’t love him in February when he got jealous and told me so.  I can not pinpoint the moment that I started loving him, but somewhere along the way I let myself fall.  I realized it for the first time when I thought he was single in July, when I thought I may actually have a shot to see how he really feels about me.

I never meant to say it out loud.  It’s all a little hazy.  I don’t even know exactly what I said; I just know I shouldn’t have said it.  I didn’t want to lose him in my life and that is exactly what I just did.  He wants to make our friendship work, but at the end of the day, I don’t know if it ever can.  The not-so-simple truth is I do love him.  I want to stop. I need to stop.  Someone tell me how to stop.  

If I could tell him one more thing, it would be that I am so sorry!  I am so sorry that I said those words.  I wish I could take them back.  I wish I could take it all back! I wish we could start all over from the beginning.

Goodbye for Now ...

Sometimes goodbyes are forever, sometimes they are see you soon, and sometimes they are something a little more gray than that.  Last night D and I sat down sober for a frank conversation.  I went in planning to say goodbye forever but walked away with a goodbye until I am better.  

My friends made me feel like I had no choice but to shut D out completely.  Their intervention email felt more like an ultimatum.  It felt like I would loose them if I didn’t do what they thought was best.  Their method felt cold and like an attack, but I know it came from a good place, a place of love and concern.  At the end of the day I had to do what I felt comfortable with.  I know they didn’t think I should talk to D, but I couldn’t walk away without some answers.  If I did I would have always had what ifs and I would never have been able to get over my feelings for him.  I did what I had to do for me.  I hope one day they will understand that.  If not understand than at least respect my decision.

As we sat at the little table at Starbucks I didn’t know where to begin.  “Tell me about her” was the only place I could think to start.  As he described her his eyes lit up, the way I use to think they did when he saw me, but this was the real deal.  He really loves her.  It was in that moment that I knew I didn’t have to say goodbye forever.  I am not sure why that is the conclusion I came to, but it is one that I still feel good about.  The goodbye letter I had in my purse didn’t apply any more.

He answered every question, even the hard ones like had he ever cheated before.  The answer to that is no.  I was not some girl in a slew of other drunken mistakes.  I never thought he was that kind of guy, but I have been wrong before.  I know that this doesn’t make the fact that he cheated at all any better, but for me I just felt less cheap.

He took responsibility for his part in all of this, and so did I.  I was not an innocent party and I know that.  I understand his personality better, that he never meant to lead me on and by no means had malicious intentions.  He let me talk, let me bare my soul.  I think we both have a better understanding of each other and had our first real conversation as friends.  Our topics were varied and I let myself be open.  I saw why I have liked him so much, but I also saw why I think he might be right about being friends.

I had to make a decision.  I told him I would be staying away from our weekly social engagement that put us in the same place.  He said he knew that that time with my friends is so important to me and he hates for me to give that up.  Per his suggestion he is going to let me know the weeks that he won’t be there for as long as I need.  

D was very adamant the whole time that he really thought we could be friends.  I told him I just needed time to get my shit together.  I know in time my feelings will fade and what will be left is possibly a wonderful friendship.  Who knows, one day he could be that friend that I call for a guys opinion on a situation.  

My feelings for him, my attraction to him, is not going to fade overnight.  It may be a month or 6 months before I am really ok.  Though, I know I am in a much better place than I was in before we sat down and talked.  That was the hardest conversation I have ever had with someone, but I also feel like I just grew a lot because I was adult enough to have it.  

So, this is goodbye to D as all of you know him.  For me it is goodbye to D for now.  When I am ready, if I am ever ready, his friendship will be waiting for me. 

Quarter Life Crisis

I have quarter-of-a-century confusion.  The dreaded day when I truly become in my mid-twenties is just a week away.  My sense of life failure is starting to settle in.  Where I thought I would be at 25, and where I am are worlds apart.  I was supposed to be getting married to an incredible Southern gentleman, have an incredible job, and live in an incredible house.  Sadly, there are times when I feel that there is nothing incredible about my life, besides my incredible friends.

To be a single 25 year-old Southern woman is like being 40 living with 10 cats elsewhere in the country.  People start to wonder why no one seems to wants you.  You start to wonder yourself. I am a little lonely.  At 25 I was supposed to be waking up next to the person I love everyday, not my teddy bear.  (I have no shame in the fact that I still sleep with a Teddy bear.)

Sure, I am not married, or dating anyone.  Sure, my job is not what I thought it would be, and I am looking for a new one.  Sure, my rent is too high, but my apartment is pretty nice.  How could I know at 18 what I would want now?  It’s not that I don’t want all of the things I thought I would have, and just because I don’t have them at 25 doesn’t mean that I won’t find them eventually.  I know that.

There is one aspect that I wish I could change, one of which I am truly ashamed.  I am hung up on someone else's boyfriend.  When it comes to D, I hate that I cannot walk away.  The fact that seeing him makes my heart pound disgusts me.  Knowing that everyday I wish for his relationship to end pains me.  I am 25, and I still want this toy I can’t have.  Even though I know it’s not that black and white, I can’t help but fear that this is why I am alone.  This is why I am lonely.  I am not saying that I think he is the end-all-be-all, but I don’t know if I could ever find that person, if I still have the feelings for D that I have right now.

At 25, my heart was not supposed to break everyday.  

I know turning 25 is not the end of the world, and I should welcome my mid-twenties with grace.  I am sure my party is going to be a blast.  I love my birthday dress.  I have so many things to look forward to.  This year will be different for me, it has to be.