Let’s Set Sail

If anyone knows me, and thinks that I’m remotely funny, I like to create analogies that help to better explain or criticize something. (I guess if you don’t think I’m funny, you’d be familiar with my humor, too.) Anyways, I’ve tried to master this because I’ve striven for a better understanding of things by connecting familiar ideas with unfamiliar ones. I’ve recently created an analogy for myself about love. So, let’s set the stage.

For me, I’ve found that love is like a boat. The time you spend creating the boat is like the time you spend getting to know one another, falling in love with one another, and professing your love for each other. The boat is the relationship, and the ability for the boat to keep trekking through waters is the love that the both of you share. Once you’ve mutually expressed love, your boat is done and your journey has begun. I imagine the “honeymoon stage” is pushing the boat through the sand onto the shore with one another – excited for the journey ahead. The shallow water yields almost no problems or challenges. You jive with one another, the water is calm and so is the relationship. There’s an ebb and flow that both of you start to get used to.

As you journey further out, the waters can be calm and they can quickly get rough. This is the beginning of your adaptation to the ebb and flow the both of you got so used to. Your relationship starts to get tested on its adaptability. When the waters get rough, will the both of you be able to steer through this together? One can not steer the boat without the help of the other. That’s the challenge on this boat; whatever challenges get presented to the both of you will need to get solved by the both of you. I’ve read so many times on social media that a couple needs to remember that any problem within the relationship is not the both of you against one another – but the both of you versus the problem.

Usually, couples can get through these rough waters and continue on the ebb and flow that they’re used to – just with better adaptability. Now, I want to talk about some of the challenges I’ve faced and how I’ve perceived them.

The best way I can put this first one is when the boat has a leak. Let’s say that none of us know the source of the leak, and the both of us are completely focused on the cause. As the both of us fight and argue over who caused the leak, the boat starts to fill up with water that’s quickly weighing it down. It’s only until the boat nearly sinks, where we’ve fixed the leak together THEN we try to figure out the source. From this I’ve learned that fighting over whose opinion is more important, or who’s right only weighs us down. Imagine the fix to the leak is simply listening without the intent to respond – and imagine the water filling up without a fix is the both of us trying to say “You don’t understand, why can’t you just listen?” Instead if insulting and overpowering – we must listen… and really listen. The cause does not make the leak any bigger nor smaller – what is our solution? We prevent further damage together, first, and then we determine what we can do together to make sure this doesn’t happen again.

Now, let’s try to imagine the boat having two leaks. One on my side, and one on his. Let’s say his leak is bigger, and the water is filling up extremely fast. Instead of helping one another, we try to tell the other person that their leak is more important to fix, and we’ve ignored all of the water that’s accumulated in our love boat. This is one of the scariest tests to your love. When one partner – or even both partners, refuse to even acknowledge the other… we both sink. Our boat will soon become shipwrecked, and we’ll be finished. No matter how big or how small the leak – we need to work together to fix both. It doesn’t really matter which leak gets fixed first, the only thing that matters is that we save our love from suffocating. From here I’ve learned that I cannot say “I do not have time for your problems, I have problems of my own” or “My problems are bigger than yours, so you need to either help me first, or fix your own problems”. Because like I said, we need one another to get through this. The collateral damage that’s caused from our own selfishness will require us to scoop the water out of our boat and begin reparations. I think a lot of relationships often end this way. I’ve learned that sometimes pride is not worth the risk of things falling apart. Breathe, lower your pride, compromise, and talk once the waters are calm again.

Another problem that comes up, is when a leak is formed but the other person is too afraid to mention the leak. As the water builds, and one of us distracts the other from noticing the water – our problems begin to build. I’d think “if I mention this, he’ll only get mad” or “if I tell him, what if he blows up at me” or “what if I tell him and he tells me I shouldn’t be worried about that” whatever the reason being – you’re scared of being the reason why the relationship sinks. So you try to fix it by yourself in silence – I’ve learned that (like I said) the leak cannot be fixed alone – in fact, this is one of the few instances where the leak tends to get bigger. You should not be afraid to speak up, or say how you feel out of fear. You must speak up, and the other person should listen without making the leak bigger. We will get through this.

Finally, there’s the boat that’s treading on calm water but one of us sees that there’s rough waters ahead. This is when we fight about a leak that’s not even there to begin with or a leak that’s not there YET (and may never even come.) The paranoia begins to engulf one of us, and the memory of what happened the last time a leak was made – but on another boat, with someone else. That fear of sinking, drifting apart like wood, and starting over alone on another island is scary. Overthinking and overcompensation happens because we are trying our very best to prevent any leaks. One thing I’ve learned from this is that there will almost always be a time where him and I will disagree – and it is scary, it is frightening to think that at any point this boat can go down. But I’ve learned that love will over come any obstacle, any leak, and any rough water as long as we both work together. We both listen, we both understand, and we both prevent leaks from happening the same way again. I am incredibly guilty of being paranoid about our love sinking – but I’m learning. I must believe in him, and he must believe in me.

This whole analogy alludes to a couple things that I’ll sum up here. Adaptability and listening will always be the lock and key that opens us up to love. Old leaks may open up again, but we must not allow that leak to flood our boat as much as it did the last time. We close up, we get it all out, and we move forward. Listening requires you to really chime into what the other person is saying. One who listens does not respond with anger, but with humility. Things must be fixed together, and the relationship must move forward together.

An important reminder for those of you who are just like me. The leaks, the sinking, and the abandonment you faced on your last boat… try not to bring that fear into your next boat with someone else. This is new, the strength of your relationship is new, and the person is completely different.

Find your ebb and flow, adapt to rough waters, and fix the leaks together. Know that the journey never gets any easier if you’re unable to do all three. We will get through whatever rough waters come our way if we remember this.

Desserts

A letter to you,
We ate at Fresh Catch, the place I was so excited for you to try, and we had planned on eating Baskin’ Robbins later on that night. You were super full and bloated for awhile after, and I had asked you if you were hungry a couple hours later. You flinched and told me you were still really full from our early dinner. I smiled and asked you if you had room for ice cream – which we both know you’d never say no to that. But you laughed and answered back with, “I always have room for ice cream – you know, I don’t get that. How can people get full off of regular food and not want to eat anything more, but still have room for dessert?” At the time, I kind of made up some bullshit explanation that desserts fill up the empty spaces between the chunks of food in your stomach and it seemed reasonable. We both carried on with our studies and it got me thinking about my life as it is right now – here, with you.

It made me realize that no matter how busy I get, or how stressful my day is – I’ll always have room for you. My days are jam packed with work or nursing school and most times I’ll feel like I can’t spend time with you, talk to you, or fit you into my schedule. The crazy thing about it though, is that I always end up making time for you because I want you to be a part of my days and a part of my hellish weeks. It’s like when we eat out together and you get full off of the regular food – you always have room for dessert no matter how full you’ve gotten. I’m the hungry consumer, nursing school/my job at the hospital/my social life/my family life are the big meals I consume everyday, and you’re the dessert. The part of the meal everyone looks forward to.

Even when we don’t talk, or when we don’t see one another – I’m constantly blending you into my days. Whenever I see the pediatricians on the floor, I imagine your future as a doctor. I have conversations with them and I ask them about their journey and how they got where they are and I try to relay this stuff to you and give you tips. I see cheesy cards and balloons from families going onto my unit and occasionally I’ll see a giraffe balloon or a not-so-funny card attached to flowers and I’ll smile thinking you’d melt at how cute the balloons were or that you’d bust out laughing at how punny the cards are. At clinicals I’ll see procedures and surgeries and I always wish you were there to watch with me. A cochlear implant scratches the surface for OR procedures, and I wish you’d gotten exposure to more. I’ll be driving in the car to school and one of our many songs’ll come on and I’ll turn the volume up to an obnoxious level, I’ll smile and I’ll sit there without singing along.

When we are together, that’s a totally different story. Our conversations seem endless, and not the kind of endless that makes you look at the clock to search for an end. It’s an endless that makes me forget about time, and it allows the both of us to just get lost in our weird and intelligent conversations. My favorite moments are the ones where you randomly just start talking about something and I’ll say nothing for a full 5 minutes – just staring at you, in complete awe at how amazing you look talking about things I’d never even think to ask you about. I’m not sure how you feel about it, but it’s those small moments where you’re excited to share something with me that makes me feel the most at peace. It’s rubbed it self onto me because for a while, whenever I learned something new and exciting I wanted to share it with you immediately. I’d write little notes in my phone, or I’d text myself so that I’d be reminded later and I’d bring it up whenever I’d remember.

I appreciate our level of communication; I really feel like there’s nothing I can’t tell you. When something bothers me, I’ll bring it up and we’ll have real conversations about it. The same goes with you when you bring up something to me – I don’t feel the need to become hostile or fight with you. There’s something about you that calms me and helps me see things for what they really are. I’ve never really had that before. You’ve heard it all before – but I want you to know that I truly am happy with you. My family sees it, my friends see it, complete strangers see it.

Our growth so far has reaped so many benefits for the both of us and I can’t wait to see what the future has in store for us. There’s been a lot of times where I’ve gotten really close to saying ‘the L word’ with you. I write paragraphs and poems about the way that I feel when I’m with you and the words can never seem to fully grasp what I’m trying to get at. These words bear so much meaning but they don’t really do me any justice. In searching for the words that can adequately explain how I feel about you – I’ve finally been able to find a phrase that does me justice.

I love you, and I love you so much Josh.

The “L” Word

One of the things I regret the most in my first serious relationship was telling him that I loved him when I knew I didn’t mean it. We had been dating for about 2 weeks and I remember dropping off Christmas gifts and waiting by my phone later on that night dying to hear what he thought of the presents I had gotten him. I honestly can’t remember what I had bought for him, but I remember the feeling of anxiety pulse over me as I read the words “I love you” on my iPhone screen. I remember thinking to myself, “Is this it? Is this love?”. At the time, I had decided to say it back – I’m not sure if it was the pressure of him saying it first, or the ignorance of a first relationship that made me type the words back. It wasn’t magical, it wasn’t nerve wracking, it wasn’t anything I thought it was going to be… it didn’t mean anything. Now, I know what you’re thinking – Oh, he’s probably just saying this because they’re broken up now and he’s got another guy he can say it to… no. I really didn’t mean it when I told him – and throughout the course of our relationship, I really thought I did mean it at some point.

It’s incredibly hard to label something without first getting experience. I remember realizing this while grabbing boba with my boyfriend and his sister. I like to ask her about her future and how she’s liking high school since she just started. I kind of blurted out a random question and asked her if she liked the high school she attended and if it was treating her well. She smiled sheepishly and nodded, but then my boyfriend had said something I never really thought about. He had said, “Well, that high school is the only high school that she really knows. She hasn’t been exposed to anything else so there’s nothing to really compare it to.” I kind of sat there dumbfounded and said, “Well, I didn’t like my high school at first, but then I ended up loving it.” He replied again, “Well, when you’ve been forced to be somewhere for so long, you end up just dealing with it.” I had leaned back in my chair and the words seemed to wake me up. He was right, I mean, how are you really supposed to know what’s good and what’s bad if you’ve only had one thing?

“I love you”. What did that mean to me? What was I really saying? Did I love the way we fought everyday? Did I love the way we were always at each other’s throats wishing the other would just listen? Did I love the way we broke each other down and never stopped to help one another up? Did I love the act we sold to everyone that we’d last forever and our love was everlasting? I think about it now, and I can’t help but pity the both of us for sucking the value out of such a powerful phrase. I can honestly say that we cared for one another, but did we really love one another? He was my first everything – and it set the precedence for how I saw every single relationship from here on out. To me, love was fighting about silly things that ended up becoming huge arguments. Love was bribing and convincing – if you really loved me, you’d do this for me. Love was forceful and lopsided, we’d take turns tolerating each other until one wrong word opened up a floodgate of aggression. Love was jealousy and mistrust; he spoon fed me white lies and I ate them up in silence, knowing two things: the answers to every single question I had asked him before he’d even answer, and that he’d lie straight to my face. Love was making up with excuses and blame; we had code words for I’m sorry and I want you to listen to me. Yes, you read that right… we had code words for those two things. At the end of my 3 year relationship; love had finally decompressed itself and showed its true form of pride and infatuation.

If there was any love to be found within our relationship, it was our love of pride. Oh how we loved to search for things to fight about; how the line “Well, you’ve done the same exact thing” rolled off of our tongues easier than the words “I’m sorry” ever did. I was never wrong, and he was never right – he loved to think the exact same about himself. We loved one upping each other in the amount of evidence we had backing up the claim that the other person was wrong. Who ‘won’ at the end of the day though? No one. In every single argument we ever had – I know in my heart no one ever ‘won’… because we’d argue about the same things over and over again. Tell me why saying I love you was as frequently said as Fuck you. Our ‘love’ was exhausting, but it was the only thing we knew for 3 years.

You see, because my ex was all I really knew, I had settled for less for a really long time. Each and everyday, I woke up and told myself, “This is the best it’s going to get, you need to make it work. We need to work.” This was so toxic. He’d disrespect me and do things that I didn’t like and I stayed silent. I had thought that every fight was a step closer to losing him, to losing happiness, to losing it all. I let a lot of shit go, didn’t express my feelings because they’d always backfire, and I went to sleep hating myself because I felt like I was just floating in my relationship with no way out. I had honestly believed he was meant for me, and we’d last forever. Despite how scared I felt, or how I needed to convince people he was good to me, or how I needed to cushion how I felt with him because he’d always blow it back in my face. Being honest, I knew I deserved better… I was just so scared that I’d never be able to find better. That some how, he’d end up being that better. That he’d some how wake up one morning and change. He was all I knew, and all I thought I wanted to know. But, after months of getting disrespected and finally coming to my senses… I’ve realized that I will never be truly happy if I stay with him out of fear. Those little sprints of hope were not worth the marathons of fear.

Now, I’m not saying that my current boyfriend is the one or he’s the best I’m going to get. I can’t say that confidently yet because it’s very early in our journey together. But, people notice how happy I am now, and how I look less afraid. I’ve had a lot of my family and friends express how different I look and how I carry myself so differently. “You look so happy with this boy, I haven’t seen you smile like that in a while” is a phrase I’ve heard several times since introducing him to my friends and family. While I love hearing this, it also makes me feel really shitty. Because it shows me that the people I cared so deeply about had noticed how unhappy I was – and my convincing did nothing. I was so desperate to show everyone that I was happy and in love with my ex, the only person that believed that narrative was me. I was so jaded and afraid that the only person that needed to come to terms with how I was really feeling was, well, me.

Another thing that woke me up was the fact that even some of the people I met through my ex had approached me and told me that I deserved better and I looked so miserable. I was kind of taken aback by the amount of people that came out of the woodwork to express how they were surprised I had stuck around for so long because of the way they saw me being treated. I was so brainwashed and needy, I probably wouldn’t have done much with the information anyway. It just goes to show how no matter how hard you try to put up a facade, people will always see right through it.

Now, I can truly say I’m happy. I feel safe with the guy that I’m with now. I don’t feel like I need to censor my feelings, or treat him like a child. I enjoy having him around, and I love getting to know him. I enjoy the vibes we share, and I enjoy how we treat each other as equals. Our communication is incredibly open, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t tell him. I can feel myself falling for him more and more each day – BUT, he is not great because he treats me how I should be treated. I am not falling for him because he’s respecting me like how I should’ve been respected.

I’m falling in love with him. But, this time I’m really trying to define love with a lot more clarity and honesty with myself. He’s showing me that love is not all of the things I had felt before – the things I felt were pride, infatuation, helplessness, and settling. This love, if it is love… is compassionate, supportive, trusting, uplifting, contagious, and a whole book of things I could go on and on about.

A gentle reminder,
It’s okay to say you weren’t in love in your past relationships. I really do believe the meaning of the word changes with time and with each passing person you decide to assign the word to. You’re not being bitter or saying that you weren’t in love because you didn’t work out – it’s okay. The phrase just gets more and more powerful with each new definition it takes on. If there’s any advice I can give… say it when you mean it – when you absolutely mean it. Do not say it just because they’ve said it, or because you’ve hit the 6 month mark, or because of some other parameters you’ve set for yourself to be able to say it. The one and only standard you should have for saying I love you is when you really feel like the person your with personifies the new definition of love to you.

 

Taking My Time With You

I had planned to take the guy I was dating to see the City Lights because I know how much he loved the holidays. I was never really festive, but the way he smiled when we went shopping for decorations & christmas lights could make traffic stop. I remember shopping with him in October for Halloween decorations for his room, and the way he perused through Party City was like seeing a kid in a candy store. We’d pass things and he’d grab them off the shelves to show me them – he’d put masks on his face, tell me I’d look great as Doc McStuffins, and we’d lose track of time pretty fast. Seeing this side of him during the holidays made me appreciate it a little more. I’d go shopping without him and I’d see holiday shirts & little trinkets and I’d think to myself, “Oh I bet he’d love this” and “I wish he was here to see this”. That’s when I was starting to realize I was really getting to know him. In the very beginning, I was so terrified of getting hurt, I popped the question – I’m sure you’re all familiar with this one… “What are we?” 3 weeks in, I didn’t even know his middle name nor his plans for the future and I was already freaking out. His I don’t knows and let’s just see what happens terrified me even more. But, it made me take a step back and reevaluate what I was really looking for.

I realized that I didn’t even know him. I didn’t know how he handles stress, what keeps him up at night, what his dreams were, why he drinks so much coffee, what he loves to do, what kinds of foods he’d never order – stuff like that. I knew just about as much as someone who was following him on IG or Facebook would know about him. You see, my fear of rejection had plagued my mind entirely. I had thought to myself, “I need to know where this is going, I can’t waste my time… not again.” That was my biggest fear coming out of my past relationship; I was so scared of putting so much effort into something and having it end up to be a huge waste of my time. I felt that initial connection with him, and I’m pretty sure he felt it too… but I wanted to know what he wanted to do with the connection. In asking him these questions, his patience and unwillingness to jump into anything with me allowed me to look inward instead of place the burden of figuring ‘us’ out on him. We needed to take things slow, we needed to really marinate in each other before we even considered being together. Because that, that is a waste of time; committing way too early, finding out this isn’t as great as it started out to be and settling because you feel like you’ve already invested too much into things. That was my biggest flaw in my last relationship. The both of us spent a year getting to know one another, and we clashed so many times. Our personalities just didn’t mix well, and the both of us tried to make the other change when we didn’t need to. We threatened the termination of our relationship so often that my text predict would probably lay the sentence out for me no problem.  I don’t regret my last relationship because it taught me a lot, but I know now that we were not meant to last.

A month after my initial question of “what are we?” my inner Cady Heron came out after a night of drinking and I word-vomited to him how I was scared of wasting my time and I wanted to know where he thought this was going. Again, his patience with me had washed over my fears and he had given me the same answers from a month prior. I took some time after that to really assess why I needed this question answered so badly. Fear. I was afraid, and I was afraid because I could feel myself catching feelings for him. I vowed to never let another guy hurt me again, and here I was drunk outside of his house trying to force something that wasn’t ready to be set. I figured if he could at least tell me he saw a future with me, my heart would be at ease – I didn’t want to get played. I was so worried about the future, I wasn’t able to get to know him properly or enjoy what we had right now. I finally abandoned my fears, and it allowed me to breathe again. I got to know him on a deeper level – he wasn’t just a pretty boy with a bright future and a smile that could stop traffic, no. He had layers to him, layers I could not get enough of. I slowed things down for myself and I immersed myself in every single moment – albeit I was still worried about the future, I wasn’t going to let it stop me from finding out and knowing in my heart this is what I truly wanted.

I know him a lot better now, and I’ve seen different sides of him that are so beautiful. Yet, I’ve only scratched the surface of who he really is. I cannot compare him to my past relationship, because that’s unfair to the both of us. But I’ve taken the lessons I’ve learned from my past, and I’ve been trying my damnedest to apply them. I’ve learned that rushing rarely ends up going well – I rushed into my last relationship and it tore us apart. I’ve learned that a relationship is about supporting one another, it’s a give and take that’s fair and doesn’t call for any “remember when I did this for you?” type of rebuttal. I’ve learned that we need to say what we mean, always. I did love my ex, but when we had told each other that we loved each other – I had only said it because he had said it first. I eventually meant it, but that initial proclamation of love was coerced by my inner need to feel wanted. I’ve learned that every fight is an opportunity to grow together, and it is not a source of ammunition for future fights. My ex and I fought about the same things all the time, and we liked to dip into the past and hold things against one another. That wasn’t healthy for either of us, and it fostered an environment that prevented any growth – if anything, we regressed. Lastly, I’ve learned that I don’t need to have the future planned out. I spent all of my time planning a future for my ex and I, that I had nothing once we had ended. In the 7 months that we were still together but out of being in love – I had to rearrange my priorities and find myself. I started doing things for me, finding out what I loved to do, rekindled friendships that I neglected because I was in a relationship, saw my family more because I decided to spend a lot of my time with my partner, and I loved myself because I finally had enough love to give back to myself. Once I had loved my self again, and I had truly known who I was, I let him go… I had to in order to take care of myself. While I’ve learned all of this and many more, I have to thank my ex for the experience.

I’m not bitter, but a lot better because of that experience with him. We showered the world with photos and captions that promised an eternal love, but we got so caught up in convincing everyone (including ourselves) that we didn’t realize it was purely an external love. I would never do this again, I shouldn’t need to convince people that I’m in love or even happy for that matter – they should know, without me having to say a word about the reason.

So, on Christmas Eve, after months of dating and getting to know this guy… I finally made the decision to ask him to be official. I had figured this would be the perfect place because of his love for the holidays. After 45-minutes of sitting in the cold, I finally mustered up the courage to ask him. While it wasn’t whimsical & I didn’t hear angels sing – I finally have the pleasure of calling him mine. I don’t know where we’ll be years from now, and that’s scary to think about. But, I know that right now I’ve enjoyed the parts of him he’s allowed me to get to know. Here, with him, this is where I want to be. From learning what oligodendrocytes are, to having him explain maillard reactions, to talking about health policies together… I know in my heart that I never want to stop learning from him and about him. I can’t promise him forever, but I will promise him that I’ll be here as long as he wants me to be. But, with this promise to him, I must also promise myself that I won’t be afraid to let him go if this isn’t something I want anymore.

In this whole process of finally breaking things off with my ex and finding myself – I can truly say that I am totally in love. I’m so in love with the person I am today. While I am not in love with this guy, yet, I’m taking my time falling for him. There’s no need to rush anymore. Thanks to my family and friends for reminding me to move slower, I honestly would have probably ended up at square one if I didn’t take everyone’s advice. Falling fast ended up leaving me shattered, and falling slowly ended up leaving me with a new found love for myself & a new chapter with you.

To those that want to rush into something,
I understand you, I understand you completely. You are terrified of getting hurt, and you want to know from the get go that you won’t feel like this again. So you either rush into someone else to run away from those feelings, or you rush into your feelings out of fear that this too, may end. It’s a hard pill to swallow, but believe me when I say that rushing will never turn out the way you want it to. At some point, you’ll be in so deep that you’ll be forced to slow down and look at all of the things you’ve overlooked. That’s what happened to me. I rushed into my first relationship, shit went wrong, I swept it under the rug and when the rug was pulled out from under me… I had to lay in everything I tucked away. All of the name calling, the emotional strain, the settling, all of that… I had to face that and I had no one to blame but myself. You’re so used to running with your hands up, ready to fight – slow down, and reach your hands out so you can catch what’s meant to fall into you. Things may or may not work out, but at least you’ll be able to discern what’s good for you and what isn’t when you take your time. Each time they don’t work out, I know it’ll hurt, but don’t give up and don’t speed up. You’ve got this, I promise.

To You,
Thank you for being patient with me and opening yourself up to me. I know you’ve had your own fair share of battles with exes and bad relationships. Opening up is never an easy thing to do, but you made it look so damn beautiful. I’m incredibly excited to start this journey with you. I am far from perfect, and I know I might hurt you… but I promise you that my intentions will always be good and I’ll never do anything to intentionally hurt you. The both of us need to take the lessons our previous relationships have given us and apply them in order to be successful. You’re right, too… being official doesn’t feel any different from how we were before. I guess that’s how I know this is real – I didn’t need a label in order to feel something for you. I won’t ramble here too much, you’ll hear a lot of my thoughts in private. I just wanted you to know, if you didn’t already yet. I’m happy with you, and I care about you.

Moving On

I’m writing this post in my new house, completely alone with music blaring in the background. I woke up this morning and it finally sunk in that I’m no longer living in Aiea, and I have a new home in Kunia. I’m learning to do things differently and adapt because of the area that I’m in – when to leave in the morning, when to wake up, where to eat, where to shop, where to put gas… all of this stuff is changing, and I need to adapt to it. It’s fitting, because I’ve had to adapt to this new life of being single and learning to do things for just me – I no longer have someone to wake up to, someone to worry about, someone to make me feel better, someone to be intimate with, someone to end the day with… all of this is changing, too, and the focus is now on myself.

The other day when I was driving home from school, I had almost took the cutoff on the freeway to go to my old house. I kind of wasn’t even thinking about it when I did it, I had just gotten so used to going that route it felt like second nature. I had to swerve back onto the freeway and figure out how to navigate my way home in a way I had never gone before. This kind of helped me realize that I’m doing the same thing with someone I’ve recently felt a great connection with. I’ve been treating him like how I treated my past connection. My mindset isn’t set to being myself, it’s set to catering to whoever’s in front of me. I was so used to picking up tabs, driving all over the place, always being there to solve problems, doing too much, doing things without being asked, and going out of my way to make sure everything is going good for whoever I was with. I spent 4 years catering and exhausting myself… I honestly don’t remember what it feels like to talk to someone authentically.

But, this is what moving on is all about right? We make the move then slowly we change and adapt to our decisions. We made the decision to move houses, we went through the motions of packing, ordering new furniture, setting everything up in our new house, and getting rid of all the crap from our old house. I made the decision to terminate my relationship, we went through the motions of giving each other our stuff back, trying to talk about our future, getting rid of pictures, getting rid of gifts, and throwing away things that had memories of us attached to them. This is just one small part of moving on, though. This is all a part of the decision to make the initial move. What comes after this really determines if you were ready to make the move.

Hopefully this brings some relief to people, but moving on is not starting fresh. It’s impossible. Don’t feel bad because you can’t immerse yourself into someone again 100% – getting hurt isn’t fun. If you recognize that a certain stimulus hurts you, eventually you’re going to be apprehensive about it – you might even stop completely. For example, opening up to someone is extremely easy when you haven’t been hurt before. Once you get hurt the first time, it hurts you. You get comfortable enough to open up again, and you get rejected or hurt once more… it destroys you. After a while you get so accustomed to opening up and getting hurt – you just stop. No one gets to witness the real you, no one gets to appreciate what you have to offer the world because someone you called your world hurt you. It’s scary, I know… I’m completely terrified to talk to someone, date, and even love again because I don’t want to get hurt again.

I have trust issues, I have self-esteem issues, and I feel like I constantly need to go the extra mile or else I won’t be good enough. This all came from opening up, letting someone in and having them shroud the light I had so proudly shone. And well, at some point… I decided to turn that light off. I decided to redecorate the inside of myself in order to make someone else feel at home, and still I got hurt. Now, I’m in the middle of the process of having my insides showcase who I am, to show what I know what home is.

With this new connection, and with any other connection that decides to look for a new home… I come as is. The light inside of me is authentic and it’s shining for my family, my friends, and anyone else that wants to be a part of this journey. If people come in and they don’t recognize what I have to offer or what beauty lies inside of myself, there are other houses they can peruse through. I will always have room for people who don’t want to tear me down and hurt me – I have a lot of cleaning up to do around here, but I know I’m doing it for me and the people that want to be here.

To those that have been hurt,
I know it’s terrifying letting someone in after being so used to getting hurt. You don’t want that again, you build walls around who you really are and you barely let anyone in. I want you to know that it’s okay to guard your heart and guard your emotions… but we (yes, we… because I’m trying this out too) need to take chances and continue to love how we normally love. I’ve realized that I can’t love people any different because I let some bad people in when they didn’t deserve to be there. We need to make it a longer process, not a harder one. I had let people in really fast, trusted really fast, and fell really fast and they never really gave me a good reason to let them in as quick as I did. Show these new connections bits and pieces of you – slowly open up to them and be vulnerable. Let them see you watch your favorite movie, let them see you search for your wallet when it’s missing, let them hear you sing in the car, let them watch you study, let them watch you play a sport or instrument you love, let them see you. Naturally, they’ll choose to stay or go. Letting someone get to know you slowly and not all at once gives the both of you time to really assess if the initial connection can flourish into something beautiful.

A gentle reminder, you aren’t starting fresh. You come with baggage, you come with demons… you come with a past. It’s okay to be afraid; moving forward is a hard fucking process. Communicate with them, he or she will understand and stick with you through this process. But, the goal is to eventually move on and open up – do not expect them to be waiting around to see the real you forever. One day, you will be able to refrain from filling your past experiences with the fears you have with this new person trying to be a part of your future. Fall slowly, and fall together.

To those that are helping someone who is hurt,
Be patient, but also know that you do not need to save them from whatever hell they’re living in. People don’t need saving, they need support. Don’t have them show you pieces they’ve never shown anyone else and lead them on. Be real, be authentic. If you aren’t interested, say something. One more time for the people in the back, say something. Nothing is more destructive than opening up to someone, vibing with them, showing them how you see the world, and being led to no where. Just like how they need to communicate, so do you. Don’t feel bad for them, don’t stick around out of guilt – if you aren’t contributing to their growth or you don’t care to see them grow… leave. Be straight up with people, you’re dealing with someone else’s feelings – these dictate so much in how people interact with one another. You want to be friends, establish that. You have feelings for them, tell them. You think you shouldn’t be there, tell them. Hurt people have been lead to rock bottom, don’t lead them into more darkness. honesty, communication, empathy, and support. These are the 4 things you owe to someone that’s opening up to you, in that order.

“I’m on my way to heaven, if I can make it out of this hell. I know I can and I know I will”
[Ascension | Jhené Aiko ft. Brandy]

 

Cheating 101

I wasn’t looking for him when I stumbled across him. I had just graduated high school and my life was making that heavy transition from high school to college. I had never been in a serious relationship before, so I was extremely inexperienced going into the whole ordeal. I had a lot of preconceived notions about falling in love, and I felt all of them come to fruition once he’d burst onto the scene of my life. The butterflies, the endless thoughts, the giddy smiles seeing his name pop up on my phone, telling my friends how handsome he was, and going gaga over his sweet words. It was so easy to let him in and have him see parts of me I never even knew existed. We fell hard and fast; we were two meteors en route to one another, building up speed and fire as we got closer and closer to crashing.

Letting people in is incredibly difficult for me, as it would be for most people going through high school. But, we take chances. We let some people in and the reality is we either get accepted or rejected – I had my own fair share of rejections, so it made my admissions requirements very selective. The scary part about letting someone in, is that you never know what they’re going to take with them. So when I let you in, and you get to see the real me… that means the world to me, and I expect it to mean the world to you too. I expected him to stay forever and make himself at home, but he had different plans.

I planned my future around him. If someone were to ask me where I saw myself in ‘X’ amount of years, he’d be woven into my answer. I loved him with every fiber of my being; my love was unrelenting and unconditional. I knew him inside and out. I firmly believed that this was the guy I’d be walking down the aisle with, one day. He felt like home. I felt safe with him, and at the end of the day I could breathe & let myself unwind into him. This belief that he felt like home lasted until I had found out someone else was laying in my bed… and it made me feel like the intruder. He’d given a complete stranger the key so easily, after I worked so hard to even step foot in the door.

Was loving you unconditionally not enough? Was accepting you flaws and all not enough? Was supporting you and helping you through your rough patches not enough? Was protecting your soul and holding you up not enough? Was putting you above all else not enough? Was almost 4 years of being together not enough? And more importantly, was I not enough?

I wanted to know why he did it, that was honestly my only question. I had thought to myself, “What could I have done to prevent this? What did I do for him to resort to cheating, or what did I not do?” I blamed myself for his actions, and it taught him nothing. I took the blame and I got so used to it, that he expected an apology to remedy the entire situation. But, a ‘sorry’ doesn’t make the hurt any less painful. A ‘sorry’ couldn’t fix this and it caused a lot of fights because well… there wasn’t an answer that could put my heart at ease. There was no answer that could excuse his behavior, and after 7 months I finally accepted the fact that we could no longer move forward. The cheating manifested itself into a demon, and he’d come out to play every time I started to open myself up to my ex again. Each time, the demon had brought his friends anxiety and inadequacy – that’s what filled my new home. I was too afraid to call him home anymore; I couldn’t recognize where I was… I felt like I didn’t belong there anymore.

I tried to work things out with him and I assured the both of us that we’d get through this as long as we communicated more and we were honest. That wasn’t the problem. I wasn’t honest with myself and I wasn’t communicating with myself. The assurance turned into convincing, and the we turned to you and I. I was convincing myself that we’d be okay – I never really dealt with the problem. I just wanted the love of my life back, I wanted us back. But, I’d never get that back – especially like this.

Everything I had hoped and dreamed of with him had just faded. I agree, everyone makes mistakes – but, he chose to make this mistake. He chose this for us, after I continually chose him. I broke when I realized that there is no rationale for cheating, and I shouldn’t be blaming myself because he wasn’t able to appreciate the one person that was going to give him the world. Some things cannot be fixed, and it’s better to leave the pieces as they may be and just walk away. Not everything needs a solution, and not every mess needs to be cleaned up. My love for him, for once in our existence together, did not exceed the new found love I had for myself. I was trying so hard to fight our demons, while he was chilling out & making them feel welcomed.

I’ve forgiven him. I wouldn’t be able to grow into an even stronger person if I didn’t. I really loved him, and I do miss him. But, I expended so much energy into us and got little in return. It’s exhausted me. It hurts me to say that I don’t know who he is anymore, but I really don’t. We are not the same people we were when we first fell in love, and that’s okay… people out grow one another, and it’s unfortunate we grew in separate directions. I’m finding myself again, and I’m really starting from the ground up. I don’t mourn the death of our relationship anymore, I celebrate the death of a person who didn’t love them self enough. This new me is hurting, yes. But, I am growing with the hurt.

To my ex:
I still care for you and I still love you. It’s unfortunate how things have panned out between us, and I know you’ve learned a lot from this experience. Maybe some day, years from now, we’ll cross paths in a public place and we’ll catch up. Maybe try things again, maybe tell each other how we fell in love with someone amazing. I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future, but what I do know is that we’ll be better people because of our time together. I don’t regret a single second I spent with you. I’ve cherished every moment together. I wish you nothing but the best, truly. This one mistake does not mean you are not worthy of love, it just means you aren’t worthy of mine right now.

To anyone thinking about cheating, has cheated, or is cheating right now:
Speak up and shape up. Just like how I revered my ex as home, someone thinks about you that same way. Yes, they may be busy, they may have stopped doing something you loved, they may have taken advantage of the fact that you’re always there… but say something. If you can seek out someone else, let them in, and allow them your body and mind – you can tell your partner what’s bothering you. If you can’t, please leave or seek professional help. From my own experience and from the ones I’ve heard from my friends and strangers, cheating can be diverted with some communication. You have to realize that this person trusts you, this person is building their future around you, this person is all about you. Granted, right now it may not seem that way, but find out for sure. My ex told me he had cheated because I was so busy with school, I explained to him that I was so busy with school and work because I wanted to grind out experience so I could get our future and family started as soon as possible. He overlooked the fact that I was working so hard for us, and I was giving up date time in order to provide for our future. I planned my entire future around him and I busted my ass each and every day to make sure I could provide him with the best future possible. SPEAK UP – You do not know unless you ask. Don’t cheat, don’t cheat, don’t cheat.

To those who have been cheated on:
Do not blame yourself for their choices. You deserve better, and do not settle for them because you are scared you won’t find love. Let me be clear; the person he/she is after cheating on you may be better, some of them actually learn their lesson and change is really provoked. I am in no way excusing their actions, but some people need big things to happen in order for change to occur. My ex has changed, and I see it & believe it. He wants nothing but to see me happy and thrive, and he appreciates me a lot more now – but unfortunately, he is not the better I deserve right now. Also, (this is a big thing) please do not be ashamed. I was so scared to tell people what was going on, that I hid it for months and it ate away at me. I had hyped him up for 4 years, and I painted such a positive picture with him, I felt ashamed to tell people that he had cheated on me. “Are you serious? I would’ve thought he’d be the last person on earth to cheat.” I got that response so many times, it only highlighted how much I loved him enough to share the good parts of him to people I knew. I thought he’d be the last person too, but that isn’t going to stop me from moving forward. This was not your fault and you are good enough, please remember this. Also, (sorry one last thing) have your reservations about getting into another relationship, that’s normal… but remember that every guy/girl that comes into your life after your ex will be different, don’t be afraid to take chances again. Yes, it is scary and getting hurt is a reality that we all need to face – but, it’ll be that much sweeter once the right one comes along and makes these chances feel like winning the lottery.

To myself:
Continue the trend of loving yourself, and know that you are worthy of love. Keep writing, keep reading, keep learning, keep focused and keep on keeping on. Do not look for love; love will find you, just as it did that summer when you found him. Be thankful for the lessons he brought you, and be thankful for the person he’s helped you become today. Do not see him as a cheater, see him as he is – he’s hurt you, but you are still alive. People make mistakes, do not bad mouth him because he was once someone you felt every emotion in the dictionary for. You out grew each other, and that’s okay. Practice self-love, be selfish, and never settle for anything or anyone that doesn’t see how amazing you are.

 

 

On a Scale of 1-10…

In nursing school we’re taught that pain is subjective; more specifically, we’re taught that the pain reported by the patient needs to be taken as the truth. No ifs, ands, or buts. I never really understood the importance of that until later. The phrase is said by every single nurse (relatively) the same, “How’s your pain? On a scale of 1-10, 10 being the worst pain you’ve ever felt?”. I’ve said this so many times. I feel as it’s the mantra for anyone pursuing a career in nursing – reminds me of when cops recite Miranda Rights. You ask once during each round, you get the number and you chart it. The number is valuable (to me), because it indicates the patients understanding of their pain.

I had a patient in my MedSurg rotation that would rate his pain at a constant 7 or 8 as soon as his pain medications were due. After receiving his medication, the rating would drop down to a 4 during my follow-up assessments. I enjoyed him, he was really down to earth and he allowed me to practice some skills I hadn’t been able to perform before. My nurse was great, best nurse I had ever gotten to shadow – but she was wary of his pain ratings. We left his room after taking a pain assessment, she turned to me and said, “Take the pain rating at face value. I know we’re supposed to believe the patient, but sometimes you think to yourself… is it really at an 8? He’s joking with us and laughing. I didn’t even see him wincing during our assessment”. I shook my head nervously in agreement, “But we believe them, and we treat it as reported. It’s normal to question it in your head – just to let you know. If he says it’s an 8, honey it’s an 8.”

I’ve had a few patients wince, flinch, and groan when I do my assessments. If I remember correctly, none of them rated their pain at an 8. It kind of got me thinking, we all have different perceptions on what’s painful and what’s not. We reach these conclusions based off of our past experiences – I mean we must, right? Also, we must have different opinions on how we let others know that we are in pain. Some people are open about their pain, and some people minimize or try to cover up their pain. Our professors and the clinical nursing staff put emphasis on how people will express their pain differently and it’s our job to be respectful and listen to them wholeheartedly and without judgement. Some people don’t want to be a bother, others don’t want to seem weak, others view pain and suffering as divine intervention, and others see pain as a vacation. It’s how we perceive, accept, and share our pain that outlines our treatment plan.

“Do you want to go through this alone? What’s your support system? Where did the pain come from? What makes it better? What makes it worse? What does this feel like to you? Have you ever experienced this pain before? How long has the pain lasted?”

Why rate your pain at an 8 when you’re smiling and happy? Why rate your pain at a 3 when it feels like I’m stabbing you whenever I palpate the area? Are their perceptions of pain different? Yes, obviously. But, what’s the goal they share? The goal is to get better. One wants medication and a lot of help to get through the pain, and the other is getting through the pain with minimal help from outside sources. They’re both valid, and both will work.

The follow-up question after a pain assessment is, “… Okay, and what’s an acceptable level of pain for you?”. I thought this question was hilarious, until I went in the field and heard every single number except the one number I’d expect all of my patients to say – 0. (Yes, 0 is not on the scale. But, I still expected that answer from everyone) I thought to myself, “Why are we going to ask people what’s an acceptable level of pain for them? Shouldn’t everyone want it at a 0? or a 1?”. I had answers that ranged from 2-6, and it always confused me – until I felt pain; more specifically pain that didn’t go away.

If someone were to ask me in the beginning of my bout with pain, “How’s your pain? On a scale of 1-10, 10 being the worst pain you’ve ever felt?” I’d probably say I was at a 5 on good days, and a solid 8 on my bad days. My acceptable level of pain? I’d say about a 5, because it was bearable and I still was able to enjoy myself.

I channeled my inner down-to-earth patient and I had thought by using quick fixes and things readily accessible, I’d be able to manage my pain. I yearned for some sort of connection; someone to make the pain go away. Someone to baby me, and tell me everything was going to be alright and that I was good enough. I was desperately gasping for air, waiting for someone to save me from drowning in my own pool of sorrow. To connect the story, I sought attention from someone when my pain was returning – like his pain medication schedule, I had this person on a “hit them up” schedule. It worked, but the conversations would only last so long; just as how the medications only last so long. The pain returned, and I would withstand the pain until this person had come around with my next dosage of attention. I had developed an addiction to the attention – I convinced myself that I needed it in order to make it through the day.

Eventually, just like medications, came the reality of waning off medications and trying to withstand the pain. I was a complete mess, and I began to get even more desperate for attention and reassurance. I sold my wellbeing to this person at a discounted price and I was worth so much more than he could ever afford. I had hit a new low, if rock bottom had a rock bottom – I was paying rent to sulk there. That feeling of drowning felt worse, like I couldn’t gauge the surface anymore – I didn’t see his silhouette trying to reach for me anymore. I accepted that I’d be stuck here forever until someone was going to pull me out.

Time seemed to slow down, and here I was back at square one – maybe square negative sixteen. I woke up one day and I felt every fiber in me screaming for help – but there was no help. No one was going to pull me out, and no one was going to save me. If anything, he let me sink deeper and deeper. I put my phone on Do Not Disturb, I blasted music, and I sat through my pain. I decided to write and read – I could feel the surface getting closer. I cleaned my room, I made plans with my friends – I felt like I was floating to the top, getting out of this slump. He didn’t talk to me the entire day, and I felt okay (it hurt but, I survived). I had made it. You see, at that point I realized all I had to do was stand. No one needed to save me, I just needed to stand. Metaphorically, I had breached the surface and I realized all of my family and friends were waiting for me to just stand. He, thankfully, was not there.

Today, I’m here standing. I don’t need him to compliment me, tell me good morning, send me a message, entertain me, or give me my scheduled dose of attention. Yes, I’m still in pain – but now my pain seems to be at a 5, and that’s acceptable for me. I need to accept this pain, really face it and not focus on it so much. I’ve relapsed a couple of times, and I’ve snuck a dose here and there, and that’s okay… but I’ve lived through the pain without him, and I know I can continue to do it. Baby steps Bran, baby steps.

If you are in pain right now, I want to let you know that it does suck – I understand that. But, the pain doesn’t last forever. You need to let go of the people that cause you pain, and you need to hold on tighter to the ones that sit with you through the pain. This will not be easy, but it’s going to be so worth it. Don’t give someone so much power over your healing, either. He/she will not save you from the pain, they’ll only make the pain worse – you are in charge of your healing, just as how a patient is in charge of their plan of care. Also, you cannot properly heal if you keep letting the person that hurt you open up the wound. Take care of yourself, love yourself, and grow.

“You not wanting me, was the beginning of me wanting myself. Thank you” – Nayyirah Waheed

“Right now, yes, things seem really shitty. Some days you will have no reason to get up, and other days you will feel empowered to change the world. Just remember, the storm doesn’t last forever. He will not save you, we can’t even save you. Just try to stand.”

The Beginning

The conception of this blog came about when I had met a complete stranger and we began talking about how our lives were going. Not any of that “It’s going okay/good/fine” kind of bullshit, I had taken the opportunity to really open up to her and it paid off. Let me preface this story by saying that being lonely is a different animal than being alone. I’m sure all of you are aware of the discrepancies between the two, so I won’t waste your eye energy coming up with a metaphor that’s going to blow your mind – instead I’ll assure you that the objective of this blog is for you to understand that one of them is impossible to feel… so long as you practice vulnerability. Which one is impossible to feel? Being alone. It’ll start off VERY cliche, but I promise it’ll unfold into something that goes deeper than “you’re never alone, I’ll always be here for you.”

Sometimes, it’s nice knowing you have someone to turn to when things go bad – I put a big emphasis on sometimes, because that feeling is nothing compared to knowing you have someone that understands you.

So, I meet her and we immediately start to talk about how our lives are going – as expected, we kind of beat around the bush and test each other’s reactions based off of the stories we’re sharing. Finally, we make a connection on how we’re stuck in the same situation – the both of us are running around in circles trying to find answers to the questions we’re too scared to ask. If I had a dollar for every time one of us muttered, “ME TOO!” or “I KNOW HOW YOU FEEL!”, I could’ve bought the both of us a home in Hawai’i Kai. But, those phrases don’t seem as superficial as the ones we get from our friends who in actuality DON’T know how this feels. In current jargon… she had the “receipts” for her situation to be similar to mine. The situation, the feelings, the questions, the hesitancy, and the underlying pain… we shared that together. I couldn’t even remember her name but she had given me something not a lot of people can conjure up when talking about life; relief, I had gotten relief from her. Someone was going through something, I felt, no one understood – I didn’t feel alone, I felt a deep connection.

I’m not shitting on my friends, I promise. But, theres something ethereal about a complete stranger lighting up with excitement because she, too, didn’t feel so alone. While we didn’t reach a solution, we reached a mutual understanding of how our lives were spinning in the same direction – and that was enough for us. That’s the satisfaction that we were yearning for from all of the people supporting us – just someone that REALLY empathizes with us. I have a lot of friends that are great listeners and a lot of friends that can pull bits and pieces of their experiences and relate them to the problems I’m facing but it doesn’t bring that much relief.

When discussing what we thought a solution would be, we actually came up with beneficial ones. Things I probably would have never of thought about on my own – I’m the poster child for a person that gives advice but doesn’t take my own. But! Opening up in that moment, you can’t help but take your own advice because your brain finally feels like it can breathe and take in what’s being said. So here I am, putting into practice the solution that both of us came up with – I’m working on myself, and this blog is the way I’m going to do that (sorta). The content that this complete stranger and I discussed will probably show up later – that’s why I’m not going too much into the details of our exchange. The focus here was on our bond, just by opening up.

While I don’t have the luxury of really interacting with you, the reader, I’d love to open up to you in this way and show you that you are not going through something alone. Someone out there understands what you’re going through – and someone understands that things are a lot easier said than done in your situation. I have a lot of content to cover, and I’m sure some of you will be able to relate. So welcome; I hope we can forge a connection, too.

The Healing Process

In January of this year, I had reluctantly agreed to go to the gym with one of my best friends. At the time, it seemed like a good way to release the stress that was weaving its way into my life. I had never been to the gym, and I’m not so sure my interpretation of “working out” was synonymous with the definitions these people had. My best friend had coached me throughout the entire experience and at the time it seemed relatively easy. I wasn’t hurting, I wasn’t really struggling, and I didn’t physically feel any pain. (I may have taken a few shortcuts and lied about some sets but… I digress).

When I had gotten home, I felt exhausted – but good; I felt good for making the decision to workout and do something for myself. I didn’t really think of the aftermath, mainly because I had never experienced a good workout. I went throughout the rest of the day completely fine, physiologically I felt a little weak but it was nothing I couldn’t endure.

I woke up the next morning feeling like a complete disaster. My wrists, arms, and forearms were contracted – if you’re in the medical field and you’re reading this, it was similar to a Volkmann contracture. If you don’t understand medical slang (don’t feel bad I had to look it up to be sure), I basically looked like I was walking around like I was playing baseball and I had just caught the ball in my mitt. But, it was extremely painful whenever I would try to straighten out my arm. I honestly thought my limb was going to be stuck like this forever because stretching it out was excruciating. I lucked out the next day because it was my best friend’s turn to drive to school – she thought it was hilarious. But, she told me I needed to keep stretching it out and that I can’t baby my muscles; “STRETCH IT YOU PUSSY” was a phrase I’d never thought I’d hear in this lifetime, but there I was. Each time I tried to stretch it, it never got any easier. Sometimes I’d even stretch it a little and immediately give up, I’d get glares from my friend but I didn’t think she understood that this was horrible.

I asked her later on in the day if she felt the pain from our workout, and her answer surprised me. “I feel it, but I’m used to feeling it. After you feel it for a while, it kind of just becomes normal and I just work around it.” This… made sense. I nodded, and she continued, “Just try and stretch it out and endure the pain as much as possible, it’ll pay off… trust me.” Just to put this into perspective, she has the most muscular back I’ve ever seen and it scares me – so she obviously knew what she was talking about. I sank in my chair, and sheepishly tried to stretch my arm by using the corner of the table as the force going against it. After those words of wisdom… it was still equally as painful. But, I decided to push through it each time and keep my arm stretched for as long as possible. It hurt like hell but, she was right… after a while, the pain started to wane. It’s important to note that with each time, it still did not get any better; my willingness to endure the pain was, though.

After 4 days of pain, each day getting easier and easier… I was pain free.

Would I go back to the gym with her? NO.

Did I learn something from this? Yes, yes I did.

Physiologically, our muscles need to breakdown in order to become stronger and bigger. You workout and do all of that shit to destroy your muscles, and your body goes through this process of fusing the damaged fibers in order to form new muscle fibers called myofibrils. These myofibrils get thicker and stronger, thus causing muscle growth. But, this whole process of growth starts off with something being broken down, (I’m sure you can see where this story is going already) this is the healing process. Sort of, muscle breakdown is more intricate than this but, that’s the basis of it.

Recently, I’ve been breaking down; breaking down who I am, where I see my life going, how I view myself, my priorities, etc. Getting out of a long and heavy relationship has broken me down – and getting out of it was my decision, just as going to the gym that day was. I did it to take care of myself and focus on myself because it’s what we needed at the time… he needed it too. As I did with the gym, I made a decision and didn’t really think of the aftermath. It’s scary to make a decision for yourself after you’ve spent a long time making decisions for another person. The aftermath of my decision had never really hit me until days later. Everything in me felt broken and ‘sore’; I had never experienced anything so excruciating. My mind was racing, my chest felt light, my heart was heavy, and I just looked defeated. I had run away from my problems; I didn’t want to feel hurt. I babied myself – I cried a lot, tried to fill up an emptiness that couldn’t be filled, I wrote a lot, I got angry a lot, I felt a lot and felt absolutely nothing at the same time.

I spent a month running and hiding from the pain because, well, naturally I don’t like to feel pain (does anyone?). I used people in order to get small moments of ‘happiness’, but the darkness seemed to creep back ten-fold once they had fallen asleep or wouldn’t answer me. I had thought to myself, “Bran, cling to something that makes you feel good. You owe yourself this, you need to feel okay as soon as possible”. I was running in circles, trying to alleviate my pain in ways that were only quick fixes. I never tried to push through it, why? I felt like maybe if I tried to trudge through the pain I wouldn’t be strong enough to keep pushing, or what if the pain lasts forever? I was okay with small bursts of happiness, and large dips of depression – I convinced myself that even a little happiness was better than trying to face my demons. As I spiraled more and more out of touch with myself, I had reached a new low.

We often overlook that, don’t we? That the pain will bring about strength. We’re so focused on the pain that we just want to know when the pain is going to be over – we don’t care about things being okay in the future, we care that this pain has an end. This kind of thinking, it’s destroyed my progress. I’ve realized that I need to focus and realize that the pain doesn’t last forever, and I will get stronger after this. I don’t need someone else to build me up, I don’t need someone else to repair my myofibrils – it’ll happen naturally over time. I need to endure the pain. Get through it, over it, and passed it. That’s part of the healing process, really immersing yourself in your pain and not running away from it… because the truth is, we’re stuck in a room with pain. We can try to run and hide from it, but it’s always going to be there. I need to let myself breakdown; I don’t need to pick up the pieces as soon as they hit the floor. Healing is a process that doesn’t have an ETA, it happens when you allow it to happen.

Things may not be better for me yet, but I know they will be. If you’re going through something painful, try your best to face it. I know, it’s easier said than done… but you’ll heal. You’ll be stronger and wiser. There will be days where you feel AMAZING, and then there will be days where you’ll get bad – immerse yourself in both. Really discover yourself and let the wound heal; keep yourself (productively) occupied. You’ll soon discover wonderful things about yourself if you truly accept the pain with open arms, rather than closed fists. I learned that I like to hike, write short stories, read, create poetry, listen to the ocean, watch the sky change colors, and a whole shit ton more.

I know it seems counterproductive to just allow the pain to run its course and not figure out a remedy, but it’ll pay off. I promise, I promise, I promise.

You’re broken, but we need to break in order to come back stronger.

“He will not fix you. He will not save you. You can only save yourself, and if he really respects you, he won’t disturb your healing process.“