Day 6. Freewriting. Feelings are powerful. I have love on the mind and looking at the evolution of my processing heartbreak over the last decade and the feelings (un)processed.
Yesterday, a friend commented how I was all feelings and they didn’t think it was possible for me to avoid feelings like a full-time job. It would be far too unnatural. Context is we were talking about relationships. Fair point and actually true. I’m all feelings. The most challenging years are when I rejoin the dating world.
Is it because I date the wrong guys? Perhaps I’m not good enough and just not wired correctly? 2 things to think about, expectations of others and self-esteem.
The interesting thing about feeling so deeply about something is the power to literally change the energy of a room. It might sound crazy but it’s true. I can make someone feel like they are floating in the clouds BUT I can also make people feel like a parasite on the scum at the bottom of a city dumpster. Typically, it all depends on how I’m treated as to how I will make the person feel. I recognized this ‘superpower’ a few years ago and decided to understand and harness this. Why should I give away my power to others? Meaning, if this is truly what I think it is, why should I allow the darkness of others seep into me to use me as a vehicle to spread the toxicity? It shouldn’t be allowed. I should purify my heart. Make it a goal that no matter what is thrown at me, to always rise above and treat others with kindness.
Do you know how difficult it is to treat people with kindness when it’s CONSTANTLY mistaken for flirtation? I go back and forth with needing to ground myself. Check and recheck the people that are allowed access to me, are these people operating from root chakra or heart chakra?
A majority of my friends are guys. A handful of these guys will comment how my mommabear refers to males friends as puppy dogs. She thinks most of the guys are secretly in love with me. I refuse to accept that possibility. I appreciate my mommabear for doing her part to raise my awareness. Growing up, my dad was pretty protective. Boys knew to behave themselves because they would call the house and ask dad for permission to date me before asking me. They also knew how much dad loved me and didn’t mind being thrown in jail for committing a crime if needed to protect either my honour or heart. My childhood was pretty amazing, super protective and everything based on fear but still amazing. I never had to worry about guys mistreating me because they were too scared to cross the line. Fuckery didn’t exist until college.
I’ve been in love a few times. But the first time I was truly, madly, passionately, irrationally in love was in college. Combination of things is why I ended up in Asia in the first place. It was furthest from the guy that broke my heart, furthest from the guy who tried to control me, most opportunistic playing field to make stupid money, and most importantly…a playground where no one knew who I was. It’s an opportunity to start over. No questions asked. No one really cared to ask to be honest. I was 21 years old. Had a ridiculous optimistic (and slightly unrealistic) outlook on life. Beautiful smile. I radiated ‘fresh meat.’ Anyone that speaks about me during these years would most likely tell stories related to partying. Aside from the guys on my roster and 2 friends, no one could tell you that much about me. Life was simple. I literally ran away from and buried my hurt. I didn’t process anything. ‘Never chase, just replace.’ and ‘Any guy worth my tears would never make me cry’ were my mantras. I could never get hurt if I didn’t’ let people in. The surface level was fine because I had different goals.
The guys on my roster were amazing. Top of their industry. Single by design (they were more commitment-phobic than I at the time). Each one filled a different void. To be spoiled. To challenge me. To bring out the passion in my heart. I guess in my present-day language/understanding, there was one for my mind, another for my body, and the last for my spirit. I loved these men in my way but never enough to let them in, fully. They didn’t know the scars on my heart. They didn’t know anything more than that exact moment and my intentions to make a huge positive impact on the world. We were honest about the situation and no one got hurt. Life was simple, direct, present. Expectations were agreed and boundaries respected. Again, anything to not catch feelings right?! My life on autopilot.
Every year, right around my birthday, my college sweetheart would try to reconnect on facebook (the first 5 or so years after the break up). I hesitantly accepted then he was deleted by Christmas. Too many feelings. I didn’t even want to deal with it. I thought I was going to marry him. It took me about 7 years to properly get him out of my system. I can see pictures from college without crying. In 2013, I was taking a roadtrip along the west coast of the USA. One of the MANY girls he cheated on me with was posing as a friend. Not just a regular friend but we have weekly catch-up sessions, outside of my athletic community or housemates, that’s basically good friend category in my world. Needless to say, never sleep with a friend’s guy. IF you do, either confess straight away or take that to the grave. No need to wait 11 years to come clean. The girls that confessed whilst still in college, I told them that I took an STD test and not everything came up clean so might want to get yourself checked out. Others, I flat out named one of the girls, her nickname was Skittles because she could deepthroat like a mofo? Or so I’ve heard. I assumed she was a dirty bird because mouths are so much grosser than the southern region. When was the last time someone used a mouth condom to make out with strangers? Naw, you just took your chance with catching mono (that was the worst possibility at the time) and dealt with it accordingly. Confessions 11 years later were received with less sass. I responded with ‘no problem, thanks for sharing’ but deep down, I wanted to reach across the table and strangle her until her face changed colors and that smug look disappeared. Fuckery. Absolute fuckery.
Wait, I do know how to respond. I’m not 100% reactionary. I’m responsive! AND I have absolute control of myself (maybe not my facial reactions but at least I know how to bite my tongue).
I’m only making friends in the gay community from now on. They have their own pettiness to tend to, they won’t start more with a ‘faghag’. Besides, I could use the ego boost of immaculately manicured men that dote on me without trying to sleep with me. It’s settled.
During college I had 18 girls confess that they slept with my college sweetheart. It was funny because I caught him making out with an old friend and suspected more happened but he assured me no. Then I asked him to look at the list of girls going on Asian term to tell me if he had ‘slipped up’ with anyone on the list. He said no. I gave him so many opportunities to come clean. A girl bragged about sleeping with my future husband and apparently, my sorority sisters told her she had 24 hours to tell me otherwise they would. Chances are if they snitched, she wouldn’t make it back to the USA in one piece. I still shake my head for having the reputation of a terrible temper. I cannot think of a single instance that I used brute force on anyone. I was too busy to engage. The girl confessed. I called my college sweetheart, he called me crazy for about 2 weeks. I couldn’t believe it but the girl knew my schedule, my entire schedule – classes, sports, and work. He finally came clean. Lost his temper, put someone in the hospital and eventually got kicked out of school whilst I was still in Asia. The only thing I remember about Asia was crying, a lot. I re-read my journal (I kept 2, one for school and one for him). The one for him was depressing to read but I can see a huge jump in the depth of my emotions and how I can either suppress or express them.
His name was Fernando. He ended up being my emotional band-aid. A gay bartender that did non-gay things to help a girl out. He brought me back to life. This is where I learned an important lesson on coping mechanisms, cultivating a Lover. At the time, I didn’t realise I was only coping. I thought I was healing. My way to deal with heartbreak for the next 10 years resembled band-aids like Fernando. Good men but for whatever reason it could never be more than what it was at that very moment. (I didn’t know Fernando was gay at the time, I only found out years later when we reconnected).
Taking on a Lover is apparently a lifestyle in Hong Kong. Lovers are a classy way for a majority to act like hippies (free love, key parties, orgies and anything to have the benefits of being in a relationship without being in a relationship). Or for some, it was a non-conventional way to adult and avoid dealing with the heavy things in life, like responsibility. I compare my first few years of life in Asia to college life with HUGE piggy banks. Problems were never solved or dealt with, they were either stuffed up your nose, poured down your throat or with lots of sex…
#MemoryLane #Love #CopingMechanism #Lover #Heartbreak #Relationships #WhyIWrite #MentalWellness #JourneyToPeace