Seven Years Later

Seven years ago, I started this blog as an ambitious 24 year-old one year into my career in Washington DC, and in love with a boy with a girlfriend.  Fast forward to now,  I am a 31 year-old single cat mom living in Charlotte, NC.  It has been almost a year since I moved to Charlotte.  Countless times I have begun to write about this huge life change, to write about the catalyst for the change, and the struggle of starting my life over in a new place at 30 but couldn’t find the words.  As often as I have shared the most intimate parts of my life with all of you, this was just something I felt I needed to be mine and mine alone.

It was just two short months from the day I first contemplated leaving DC to the day I drove away for a new job in Charlotte.  It was like I blinked, and I had changed my whole life without really processing everything I was leaving behind.  Although the move has been good for me, and there were really reasons for it, leaving DC felt like leaving a part of me behind.  It was like I split my heart in two and when I went home at night I would cry for that part of me. There was a time when I believed that DC was the love of my life and there was no way I would ever live anywhere else.  It was as if DC was woven into the fiber of the adult I became there and I never really knew. 

How can this be Capitol Confessions if I am no longer in the Capitol?  If I am honest I stopped being that Harper a long time ago.  Harper Waverly is an alter ego I don’t recognize anymore. She is the pen name I chose when writing as myself was impossible.  As I have discovered new hobbies, new sources of happiness, I have lost other parts of myself.  It seems impossible to be everything all at once, to fit in all the boxes and please all the people from each aspect of my life.  I am an Ole Miss Sorority girl, a southern debutante, a political junky, a Harry Potter fangirl, a true Whovian, a professional in corporate America, a pop-culture addict, an Anglophile, a Comic-Con goer, and a cosplayer. 
 
In the past year I have done things I never thought I would do; maybe because outside of DC the pressures as someone who could run for office someday have lifted.  I have had dramatic moments that have lead to high highs and very low lows.  How do I articulate all the joy and pain of the past year of my life, because I don’t think I can do it justice? The words to describe the devastating gaping hole that leaving Chloe, my best friend, my person, left inside of me and the struggle we went through to find our new normal.  Meeting new people who finally made Charlotte feel more like a home and less like a mistake. Having a clandestine affair in an empty ballroom of an Atlanta hotel at 4am the last night of DragonCon (I really should tell you all that story sometime).  A relationship with real promise ruined by a broken condom and a trip to buy Plan B because it made things very heavy way too soon, and the havoc it reaped on my body (both the Plan B and the loss). 

I have no idea how to put a year worth of life changing events, crippling depression, unbridled indulgence, creative expression, new friendship, and intense loneliness into a few paragraphs.  Over that year I have found my place in Charlotte; I have created a home I am proud of and accumulated a family that supports me at every turn. 

I might not know how to share the time that has past since I last wrote,  but I do want to share all that is to come.  Thank you for reading and being a part of my journey over the past 7 years. I hope you will continue on this roller coaster with me as I navigate friendships, career, and dating as a 30-something in the South. 

Perfect Storm of Sadness

I am sad.  I am sad for a whole host of reasons.  I am sad because I am sleeping with someone I could actually really see myself with, but I am too scared to ask for anything more than occasional sex.  I am sad because M sent me a booty call text that made me so angry I could scream, and the fact that it made me feel something so extreme makes me sad.  I am sad because I finally told Bee how she makes me feel inadequate and she didn’t at all comprehend it, and now I feel like I am losing one of my oldest friends.  I am sad because maybe no matter how much self discovery I go through, I will still just be a girl seeking the approval of other people: of men, of friends, of anyone and everyone who might just for a second solidify that I am real and solid and worth something.  Maybe no matter how strong of a woman I have become there are moments when I am just a sad broken girl.

Sad and broken are the perfect words to describe how I feel in this moment.  All of this comes on the heels of things that should make me feel empowered.  I have a man who I enjoy having sex with and he enjoys having sex with me, and that should be empowering, to enjoy my body.  Instead I find myself just wishing Evan would want more from me than just my body.  I told him that the intimacy of staying the night with someone is just as important to me as sex, so he gave me that.  He stayed, he engulfed me in his arms, gently pressing his lips to my forehead.  He talked to me about real parts of his life.  I mistook him giving me what I told him I needed for him actually caring.  He cares about fulfilling my needs, not because he is falling In love with me, but it is what lovers do, they scratch an itch.  The problem with receiving intimacy from someone who doesn’t want to be with you is intimacy fosters feelings.  

So, here I am sad that I have contracted feelings for my fuck buddy and M has to go and text me.  We had been at a going away party for one of our friends, and I will admit I looked great, but losing 26lbs will do that for you!  M leaves early and while I am still sitting at the bar with our friends drinking cheap beer and debating the merits of everyone taking a fireball shot, my phone buzzes.  There it was, “Hey.”  It sat right below the message from January where he said “You are a pretty girl, I just can’t do this.”  That “Hey” was a punch in the gut.  What the actual fuck?  He has no right to text me.  He couldn’t even try to have a conversation with me for the 4 hours we were in the same room, but he thinks a drunk “Hey” is appropriate?  I have been such an adult about our whole situation, and he goes and does something as childish as testing the waters with a booty text.  I wanted so badly to text and ask if he was serious, but our friends talked me off the ledge.  I didn’t respond, and that should make me feel empowered.   

The worst part is since that text I have been so angry!  I have wanted to yell at him, tell him that he was the one that chose not to be with me, so he will never have the right to text me.  To scream that he needs to grow up, if not for himself than for his friends that have to constantly apologize for his shitty behavior.  More than anything I want to yell at myself for wanting to yell at all.  I have spent the last 6 months figuring out how not to care about M.  I tried to give him my heart and he didn’t want it.  He doesn’t get to want or have any other part of me, not even my anger.  

As I try to decipher my feelings for two guys that don’t want my heart just my body, I am also trying to decide what to do about my friendship with one of my oldest friends.  Bee and I have been friends for almost a decade.  There are very few memories about college that don’t have her in them.  I love her truly, but loving her and being her friend has not always been easy.  When we are one on one, Bee is the best friend that she knows how to be.  When we are in public, around other people, I have often felt like Bee’s sidekick.  Over the years, I have often felt like she acted like she didn’t know why I was hanging around when we were around people who didn’t know us that well.  Or that she wouldn’t stand up for me if it would affect the time she was having.  Maybe it has always been in my head, but I have, especially since we graduated college, felt uncomfortable and like I had to prove my worthiness.  I don’t believe Bee has any idea that she does this, but that still doesn’t make it right.  Just because she is the best friend that she knows how to be does not mean she is a good friend.  

After a recent wedding of one of our college friends, I actually stood up for myself and told Bee how I felt. After sending that message, instead of feeling empowered, I felt like I was going to throw up.  It took her a week to respond, and when she did, it was just hours before I left the country for 4 days I didn’t know how to process the novel she sent.  For the past month I have been putting it off.  Starting message after message, but never truly knowing what to say.  Am I ok with losing her?  Losing the one person who knows all my college secrets, heartbreaks, and triumphs?  Am I willing to settle for less than the kind of friendship I know I deserve?  How do you say I love you but you are a shitty friend without having to rehash every moment that they made you feel less important than they are?  I don’t know what to say, and it makes me sad.  

Sadness scares me.  Sadness is the slippery slope to that dark and twist place that I fight so hard to avoid.  But sadness is a part of life, and I know that.  I just wish I wasn’t smack in the middle of the perfect storm of sadness.  

How to be Friends

As time passes and I end up having to be in a room with M, more and more I wonder why it hasn’t gotten any easier.  I don’t still want to be with him; I am not even that attracted to him anymore, but for some reason, it still makes me anxious.  I don’t talk to him at all these happy hours, bridal showers, and birthday parties.  I am not rude, and I don’t avoid him per se.  I just don’t have direct conversation with him.  I am beginning to wonder if it is ever possible to be friends with someone who rejects you so directly.  

The thing about M is that I never thought about him romantically until he kissed me.  After he kissed me, I began to think, “oh ok, I could see this working”.  He wasn’t the kind of guy I typically would have pursued.  He wears cargo shorts, and prefers basketball over football, and if I am really honest, he isn’t pretty enough.  I didn’t love the way he kissed me, but I didn’t hate it either.  All in all, M was someone who didn’t immediately make my heart flutter and the sun shine.  But I thought maybe that was a good thing.  Maybe that is how it should really be, instead of the manic intense disasters that all my other past relationships have been.  So I gave him a shot; I started envisioning a very comfortable life with him, and then I really began to care about him.  In all reality, I think I convinced myself to fall for him.  I convinced myself he was what I wanted.   

Do you know what happens when your backup plan chooses not to be with you?  The person you convinced yourself to fall for just can’t be with you.  A part of you breaks.  Not because they broke you, but because you broke yourself.  You convinced yourself this person would never hurt you, that they were safe, they were worth it.  Then you realize you can’t even keep the kind of safe guy who should worship the ground you walk on, the kind of guy who you would never love with unabashed passion but love enough to have a comfortable happy life.  

It might not hurt so much if you didn’t have to see him.  Being in a room with someone who blatantly said you are not enough for them is like a continuous panic attack.  You look at them, and you hear the words all over again.  It is like someone constantly screaming in your head, “YOU ARE NOT ENOUGH!”  No matter how much you really don’t want him anymore, it is a constant reminder of your failure, your inadequacy.   

Although deep down I know that it was him.  M is a child, and our friends let him get away with too much.  He doesn’t grow up because no one makes him.  I am adult and he is a child.  I wanted something real, and he wanted a fuck buddy.  I should have moved on on my own accord.  I liked having someone though, I wasn’t ready to have no one again.  I didn’t want to start over for the thousandth time.  

Maybe that voice will fade with time, when I meet someone new.  When I have found someone who actually wants me, all of me, not just when they are bored or drunk.  Maybe it will fade when I don’t feel like everyone is watching to see how we are going to act together.  Sometimes it feels like all our friends are waiting for me to have a meltdown or get mad at M or drunk cry.  I mean sometimes I do drunk cry about the situation, but in the privacy of my own home or to Layson.  

I don’t know that I will ever be able to be friends with M.  I know everyone expects me to, and I will always be civil, but I can not see the day that I will be M’s friend.  Maybe as I get older I am too jaded to pretend.  Maybe I am hard like my mother says.  But really it boils down to this, if I offer you all of me and you reject it. you don’t get to have any of me.  

Four Years, How Far We Have Come

Four years ago, I said hello to the blogosphere, not quite sure where this would go or what I would be willing to share.  I liked writing, and I knew that it was something I really felt like I needed to take the time to develop.  I thought I would write witty posts about the things I was obsessed with, or jazz up the stories about my drunken nights to entertain.  I wrote those things, but I also began to write about the boys who would pop up in my life.  Some of it was sexscapades, but I also began to write about my heartbreaks, the twisted relationships that, good or bad, were beginning to shape me.  I began to pour my soul out every time I took to the keys.  Soon, I couldn’t decipher how I really felt until I was able to write about it.  

I surprised myself with how much I was willing to share.  When I would begin to write, my heart would open, my words didn’t filter, I said things I wouldn’t have the courage to say out loud.  I shared my sordid inappropriate, unhealthy, non-relationship with D.  It was on this page that I admitted to myself and all of you that I loved D, and it was on this page I finally let go, let him go.  

When my life turned dark and twisty, I wrote about my depression.  I wrote about going to therapy, and the things I did to work my way out of the dark hole  I had found myself in.  This blog became a place of self-discovery.  Even if I had to learn the same lesson over and over again, I found it cathartic.  As friendships crumbled and other grew I could write about it all here.  Even if no one was out there reading it, it was the process of writing that mattered.  Putting words together, yielding them into something worth reading or that can make people feel holds a certain power.   

Over the years I have had moments in my life when it was difficult to find the words.  When I lost people I loved to suicide and cancer, the grief was too much, too big to fit on a page.  If I am honest, it was something I had to own by myself for a while before I could share it.  Putting how I felt about losing my grandfather into a post just made it feel so definite, so much smaller than the feeling that engulfed me.  I also couldn’t bring myself to write about anything else, until I wrote about such a huge moment I couldn’t write about what else was happening in my life either.

My self-image, my confidence in who I am has faltered over the years.  It’s a struggle I have had since I was young, and it took a lot to share that with all of you, to write about eating disorders, bullying, and my own self-hatred.  I felt it was important, to share my struggles in case someone else might be going through something similar.  Something I have learned is, for people like me, loving yourself is a daily battle.  You have to take the world one day at a time.  Body image is much more of an inward struggle than an outward one.  

I am a mess.  I have always been a mess, but after 4 years of writing about all the moments that contribute to the making of me, I am a much more self-aware mess.    

Who am I now?  I am a strong Southern woman who is fastly approaching 29 (Eeek, panic!).  I work very hard at a job I like, even when it stresses me out to the point of tears (about once a week).  My family and friends are the most important thing in my life.  I would do anything for the people I care about, I mean like the person you call if you had a dead body to get rid of type of friend.  I make mistakes, lots of them, especially where men are concerned.  I want people to like me, a habit that I am trying desperately to break, but it is true I like to be liked.  I am not particularly funny, at least not on purpose.  I am a huge nerd!  I fangirl over all the things: Doctor Who, Harry Potter, Game of Thrones, all the superhero shows.  That is probably because I am passionate, I love with all that I am, I feel very deeply.  All I want is what I what I think most people want out of life: to be happy and to be loved.

I want to say thank you for reading my melodramatic ramblings.  It has been a rollercoaster of emotions over the past four years, and I appreciate you taking the time to read what I have to say, and for allowing me to find my voice.  

Teddy Does London

My dear friend Ted, or as Elle, Lisa, and I like to call him Teddy Boo Boo Boo Boo, has just packed his bags and is headed to the most amazing city on earth. London!  Ok, so I have never been, but it is the place where 85% of my dreams take place.  For those of you who don’t know, I am absolutely, positively obsessed with EVERYTHING British!  Teddy has been making me insanely jealous with all of his amazing pictures from his morning runs.  Well, ok not the running part, we all know I don’t run, just the being in London part.    

Teddy did not do the proper research before hopping the pond, and is asking for suggestions on places to see and things to do.  So, I thought I would make Teddy a list of British things he needs to do, see, taste, and watch in order to immerse himself in the culture.  Of course, go to all the amazing museums, and the typical tourist stuff like riding the London Eye, touring Tower of London, and trying to make a palace guard laugh, but these are the random things that you might not have thought of.     

1. Go to Selfridges!  Selfridges, also known as Selfridge & Co., is a chain of high end department stores in the United Kingdom. It was founded by Harry Gordon Selfridge (a bad ass American). The flagship store on London's Oxford Street is the second largest shop in the UK (after Harrods) and opened 15 March 1909.

      

2. While you're at it, watch Mr. Selfridge!  That way you know why Selfridges is so freaking cool!  I mean Jeremy Piven!!  
3. The Peter Pan statue in Kensington Gardens.  This can be found in the true classic film Hook.  Teddy, this is a must see for every lost boy!    

4. Have Afternoon Tea.  The British Empire was built on the principle that everything stops for afternoon tea.  I even found you a very masculine place to enjoy this time-honored British tradition, the Reform Social & Grille!    
5. Hit some historic Pubs.  Here is a great list with helpful reviews!  Prove to the Brits that you can get boozy with the best of them!  Oh, and don’t forget the fish and chips!    
6. For God sake WATCH DOCTOR WHO!  I have only been telling you this for months, but maybe now you relieve how important it is to have a favorite Doctor! At the very least you will understand Lisa’s and my references.  (PS. Bow Ties are cool!)

7. Go to TONS of shows on the West End!  Think Broadway but with stars like David Tennant, Matt Smith (people you would know if you watched Doctor Who) and amazing original shows!!  It’s not just the great theater that you can catch here, also look for new bands and DJs playing free shows trying to catch their big break.  
8. Be in the Audience for a recording of a BBC show!  It is free and frankly pretty cool!  You can see what is taping soon and apply for your free tickets!  I highly recommend the Graham Norton Show if you can!  I would give you a $100 if you told a story for the Red Chair.  Also, just watch the Graham Norton Show every week!!  You will thank me.      
9. Hear people speak their minds at Speakers’ Corner.  At the north-east tip of Hyde Park near Marble Arch, Speakers' Corner is where anybody and everybody can jump on an old crate and voice their opinion every Sunday.  Teddy, since you won’t be able to argue politics with us at Happy Hour this might be a perfect spot for you to debate!  
10. Go to the races, a polo match or some other function where the pretty girl on your arm is wearing an amazing, yet silly hat.  I vote for polo because that seems more British!  

Of course there are a million other nerdy things I would do, like go to Kings Crossing and take my picture at platform 9 ¾, but I left those off because I am saving them for my visit!  Wouldn’t want Teddy to have to do them twice.  

More than just Teddy being in my dream city, I am jealous of this amazing life adventure he is getting to have.  Moving to a new city, a new country, with so many possibilities in front of you must be exhilarating!  Sometimes I think I started my career too soon, that I didn’t give myself time to explore the world, and now I won’t be able to until I am old and too tired to.  Well, thanks to Teddy I will be going on at least one adventure.  I am making my way to jolly old England this Spring whether Teddy wants me to or not. :)   Cheers!

Chosen Family

I read an article on Buzzfeed today about why gay men love The Golden Girls.  There were a lot of fascinating points to why gay men relate to the show, but one that resonated with me in particular is the idea of the “Chosen Family”.  These women were not only friends; they became family to one another - a family that each of them constructed for themselves.  As a single career woman in my mid-twenties living 17 hours from my biological family, I have also developed a chosen family.  

I think several of the most unforgettable television shows are those that create this idea that friends are your family: loyal, caring, irreplaceable, and ever so slightly crazy.  Think about Will and Grace, Friends, Sex and The City: these are shows that helped shape the way generations look at friendship.  They are the standard to which much of our society judges true friendship, and the blueprints to creating a chosen family of their own.   

I am a person who is loyal to a fault.  I build a lot of walls around myself, and if I let you in and trust you completely, then you can expect my unadulterated friendship, you are now family.  These are the people that pour you another glass of wine and hide your keys when you lose your job.  The people who text you during your mutually adored shows, edit your blog posts, and gchat you at work all day.  These are the people who would punch your cheating ex in the nose if they ever run into them again, or at least say they would on a regular bases.  The people who can make you laugh with a look, and don’t flinch when you burst into tears for no apparent reason.  These are the people that know all your physical and emotional scars and love you because of them, instead of inspite of them.  This is a chosen family.  

I take great care to construct the best possible chosen family.  To let the right people in, but when you depend on someone you are always leaving the door open for disappointment.   When someone you love hurts you, it never gets easier.  When it is a friend, a member of your chosen family, the cut runs deeper.  This is the person with whom you are supposed to be in the trenches of life, not the person that hits you with a grenade leaving you bloody and broken.  The thing about family, even the chosen kind, is that you love each other enough to get past the things that have wounded you, at least you should be able to.  A chosen family member, unlike a biological one, always has a moment when they prove they are family.  There is a test of your friendship and sometimes you realize they weren’t family at all.  It is the people that will weather the storm with you who deserve the designation, the one who knows you, what will hurt you, and when you don’t mean the terrible things that you said.  Those are deserving, the elite, the chosen ones.  

When someone says a member of your family is a jackass, and it might be true, but they are your jackass and no one else gets to call them that!  In my case, I am everyone’s over dramatic “emotional time bomb,” but my family will stick up for me because I am their ticking time bomb.   No one gets to talk shit about your family but you, end of story.  

I love my chosen family!  The people that have been to the bottom of the bottle and back with me.  I would not have survived my 3 ½ years in DC without them, and I know I can not survive moving forward without them by my side either!  To Chloe, Lisa, Elle, and Conner: thank you for being my chosen family, for seeing me and loving me at my worst, for accepting my eccentric ways, and knowing that I am always just a phone call away.  I love each of you more than you will ever know!          

2014

I know we are a few weeks into 2014, but it is never too late to tell you about my New Years Eve, New Years resolutions, and my outlook on 2014.  

I could not have dreamt up a better way to start 2014.  Ok maybe there could have been a few slight improvements, like a New Years kiss, but seriously, my New Years Eve was practically perfect!

Elle, Hadley, my new and wonderful friend Layson, and I got all dolled up in sequins and headed to a wonderful four course meal at Lavanga.  The food was spectacular, and the company superb!  We laughed, stuffed our faces, and mocked the 60 year-old women with cleavage for days.  After our delicious meal we snuck into a private, open bar party at our favorite bar.  We made friends, got boys to buy us shots, hung out with all our favorite bartenders, and overall had an amazing time!  We could not have planned a more perfect night with friends.  Hadley kept finding boys willing to give up their party hats until we all had one.  

I want 2014 to be the year of Harper.  I plan to do things that I like, things that make me happy, and things that better me.  So, here are some promises I have made or goals I have set for myself.

- Read 52 books this year.  That is a book a week.  I spend an hour on the metro everyday, and have started reading during my lunch hour.  There is no reason why I can’t find the time to read a book a week.  

- Lose weight.  I know what you are thinking.  This is every typical woman’s resolution.  What makes this different than years before is why I want to.  I want to feel good about myself.  I don’t want to lose weight to win some boy, I want to do it to like the way I look in clothes.  I know there is nothing wrong with being a 14/16, but I would like to be able to go into any store in a mall and find something that fits me nicely.  I have started Weight Watchers, and have already lost 5lbs.   

- Spend my money on big moments instead of nights at the bar.  I would rather save up so I can have the memories of something like Taste of the South than spend all my money at my neighborhood bar doing the same thing every week.  I am too young to give up on living.

- Leave the past in the past.  I have to stop carrying around all my past heartbreak and let myself move on.  As long as I hold onto the past I will never be able to have a future.

-  Be confident in my own decisions.  I need to make decisions and not second guess them.  

- Spend time with true friends.  I want to continue to develop my friendships with the people that are always there for me.  It isn’t the quantity of friends you have, it is the quality of your friendships that matter.

- Have fun!

The year of Harper has so many other goals and objectives, but no need to bore you with them all.  I am really looking forward to what 2014 has to offer.  The best part of the New Year is the idea that you can start fresh, eliminate bad habits, learn from your mistakes - with that comes the ability to change..  So, even though this is a few weeks late, I hope you also have plans for yourself in 2014.  If not, it is never too late!   

Better to Lose Someone Else Instead of Yourself

As I have told y’all many times before, I have spent much of my life trying to please everyone else.  I would base my decisions on what would make the most people happy.  The problem with that was I would end up doing a lot of things I didn’t want to do, and feel guilty if I disappointed people.  I have also realized that so many of the people in my life who I worry about pleasing have never cared if they disappoint me.  I am learning to be more assertive in my choices, my wants, and my needs.  The hardest part about learning this lesson is realizing that I will have to let some people go.  The realization that some of your friendships are unhealthy is a very hard pill to swallow.  I am doing my best to actually make decisions that make me happy.  That can be as simple as staying in on a Thursday, to walking away from a friendship, to not texting a ridiculously good looking guy because I know his intentions are not honorable (and I deserve more than being someone’s backup plan).

Going to therapy makes you very self-aware, and I’ve learned the feeling of my inadequacy runs deeper than I thought.  I have to constantly fight the voice in the back of my head that says I am too fat, not smart enough, nothing special, and I don’t deserve for people to care about me, my thoughts, and my feelings.  I have to fight the voice that says I am not worth loving or I am not good enough to be someone’s priority.       

The holidays, for some reason, seem much harder.  It is a time for giving, but I have to remember not to give all of myself.  Last year I forgot that; last year I gave my heart to someone so very undeserving.  There has to be a balance, a way to be a caring person and to keep yourself.  I sometimes envy people who can just say what they want and not care about the consequences, about how it will make other people feel.  Though, I suppose I did that last year, when I told D that I loved him, but the only person it hurt was me.  

I used to think I was strong enough to get through anything, but I was wrong.  Back then I was neither strong enough to walk away, nor to stand up for myself.  But now, I am stronger and I will continue to become a stronger person.  Settling for what someone is willing to give instead of finding someone who can give what I deserve is no longer an option.  I will not be guilted into neglecting my own needs to please the whims of others.  

What I Should Have Written Instead of Hiding ...

I keep saying I am going to stop going MIA on all of you readers, but then I find myself sitting in front of a blank screen waiting for my fingers to make words.  I wait for the words to flow, to find humor or tragedy in some minute detail of my life.  I look for something to entertain you, warm your hearts, or bring tears to your eyes.  The trouble is I can’t.  

I should have written some great post about the Halloween party I went to despite how huge I felt in my costume.  I should have painted this haze of a picture that involves 2 different boys kissing me that night.  Talked about how I wasn’t really sure I wanted to kiss either of them, but it had been too long and felt too good to stop.  I know I should have talked about the Texas boy creeping closer to me while we talked, leaning in and taking me by surprise when his lips touched mine.  I should have written about my quick escape when I realized we were making out in the middle of the party, and how my neighborhood bar seemed like the perfect haven.  How I saw the signs when buff boy number 2 pulled me into his kiss, and how I didn’t refuse it.  I should have talked about my lack of shame that night.  When boy number 2 walked me home I didn’t let him stay, and I was proud of myself.  I could have invited the boy I didn’t care about up to my bed to end the dry spell, to feel wanted, but I didn’t.  I should have written about that, how it made me feel, how proud I was of myself, how lonely I felt.    

I should have written about my winery adventures with Chloe, Elle, Connor and crew.  I should have written about the wine, the laughs, the cute dogs everywhere.  I should have written about brunch with Hadley, and how it turned into an all day affair.  I should have written about my date and how he split the check, how there was no spark, how it left me feeling lonelier than ever.  

More than anything I should have written about starting therapy.  I should have written about how my breakdown got to be too much for me to bear.  I have been going for two months now, and it is helping me find an inner peace.  I am working on my issues that keep me from being a happy person.  I wanted to tell all of you, even though you probably already know, that I have been drowning in my self-consciousness.  I am learning to be more assertive and to eliminate definitive words like should and must from the way I think about my life (upon my Therapist's Suggestion).   

I should have written about a lot of things, but I just didn’t know if any of you would want to read them.  More than that I think I wanted to hold something for myself after finding out about D.  I have made so many of my deepest darkest moments public, by choice, especially my relationship with D.  I was embarrassed that he could still hurt me, and I just wanted to heal in private.  I have been trying to heal the same way I always do, I guess: kiss some inappropriate boys to prove I can, surround myself with friends, and drinking LOTS of wine.  The only thing different this time was I wasn’t sure I was ready to share it with the world.  

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)

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.