Visits home are typically spent with family and minimal amount of time to see friends. This trip, I was VERY fortunate to be invited to speak with high schoolers about my experiences in Asia. We covered a bunch of topics related to infrastructure, starting conversations with strangers, and thriving outside your comfort zone.
Very interesting Q&A. I was impressed with the knowledge the students had and absorbed. A very clever bunch! (GREAT JOB LIZ. TEACHER OF THE YEAR)!
You know you’re obsessed when you find every opportunity to jump on a stage to work on your public speaking skills! Tonight’s ‘performance’ was testing my improv skills. My story-telling skills…
It was an open mic night at a local bar in Singapore. The theme was my first time. My goal was to get the crowd to FEEL my emotion as I told my story.
“My alarm went off at 3:37. My heart was racing…my limbs were numb. Every ounce of blood had vanished from my extremities. I walk to the bathroom sink. I look at myself in the mirror. I wash my face. I have a lump in my throat. I brush my teeth. The butterflies are out of control. I lay down for a minute. I take a deep breath ‘Jess, you can do this…’ I Whisper to myself as I peel my nervous body off the bed. I kick off my slippers and start to put on my Superhero uniform….”
This was my first time using a microphone! I think I prefer shouting but it was a very cool experience! I’m incredibly blessed to have the support of this group. They laughed when I told them it was my first time…doing Ironman! hahaha
Day 10. Freewriting. Connectedness. Words are so important. Thoughts, words, energy, accomplishments… they are all connected in some way. Everything is important… my morning freewriting (stuff I share on my blog) has been magical to help identify some kinks in my armour. Perfect warm-up exercise for my deep dive into my emotions as well. Last week, I belted out 89k words between targeted writing, email, and social media. That’s basically an entire book worth of thoughts… that’s a BUTTLOAD of writing!! Kind of insane to be honest. My writing muscle is getting stronger and translating my emotions into words is coming with greater ease…
Death is still on the mind. Yes, death.
I’m not afraid of death. I think to be afraid of death means that I have not fully lived. So I’m not afraid of it. I’m not engaging in [physical] risky behaviour and I cannot think of a single regret. Zero regrets. The type of death that I’m slightly consumed with is spiritual death. These killers are called vampires. They are all over the place. Some are stronger than others. Some are blissfully unaware of their leeching. Some just cause a ripple effect of chaos. When I’m in a normal state (freeflow/high vibrations/dismissive of external judgments), the vampires are powerless to me. When I’m in a transition or healing from something, I’m susceptible to damage. Physically and Mentally, I’m indestructible. Emotionally, I am a teddy bear in transition to be a wildebeest. I like the fact that I’m a teddy bear. It’s like being a light tower on a shoreline. Sought after. Protective. Clear. Intentional. Purposeful. Stable. Reliable. Safe. I’ve been a light tower to MANY. I’ve attracted many boats but I’ve also attracted countless bugs… It’s kind of ridiculous the energy I attract, I guess that’s the double-edged sword of being a bright light.
Death makes everything black and white and plants seeds of fear rather than love.
My value-added to the world is using my words to build. Typically, my words give people the warm fuzzies and snap them out of a funk. Their hearts pump a bit harder knowing that they inspired growth in just one person (me) in some way. My kindness is always sincere. It speaks to an important gesture of some sort. Whether the gesture was intentional or not, it helped me in some way.
To date, there have been 3 people who have used my words of kindness as a cover for their bad behaviour. These people thought that my acknowledgement gave them the green light to stop making an effort on the friendship. Or gave them the green light to think that I was not so secretly in love with them. Funny how that works? I use gratitude to help me focus on the good in the world and help highlight the good in others and it comes back in an impure manner.
This is where mental illness comes into play. How can I be upset with someone that sincerely doesn’t think they are doing anything wrong? How can I judge someone on intention? Do my kind words mean that I’m flirting? Is kindness so rare that the moment a girl shows a guy a bit of appreciation, it means more than that? Since when does showing your heart also mean giving your body? But again, I’m speaking to the 3 people of hundreds of letters. A minority but still worth giving a few moments – for reflection sake.
***
My heart says to let you back in. It’s my duty. My head says NO WAY. It’s going to kill you, spiritually. The biggest tug of war is between my heart and my mind.
Where is that line between personal responsibility and projecting onto others? People are allowed to make mistakes. Mistakes shouldn’t be repeated. When they are repeated, they are choices. And repeated choices lead to patterns. Patterns reveal character.
The two sayings that keep playing in my head
“One time shame on you, two times shame on me” and “…have a little faith in me”
Both are correct. Which one to follow. Which one is relevant for this instance. Which one will protect me and which one will break me. I know to chose the words that build… but should I be strong enough to help show you how to convert words to break into words to build… Maybe that’s my ego in thinking I can help you. After all, I’m the one with the problem, right?
Day 9. Freewriting. Making myself vulnerable is a challenge. Woke up this morning intending to discuss something I’m comfortable with, My Inner Circle and kind of went on a few tangents…
Inner Circle – Thank you for understanding my depth. Thank you for respecting my privacy. Thank you for asking the open-ended question: How are you? or What goals are you currently chasing? and giving me space to share what is on my mind… and actually listen. It typically takes a lot to be allowed in my inner circle. It’s not because I’m elitist, it’s because I’m soft. I’m impressionable. I listen, I absorb and I grow via the people nearest to me. There are millions of people smarter than me that have been quoted “You are the net sum of the 5 people you spend the most amount of time with” or “If you lay with the dogs, you will get fleas” or “playing with pigs will get you dirty” All sayings that make me laugh and reflect… no truer words.
The times that I allowed the wrong people in was because I was lacked something in my life. The funny thing is how the world operates through opposites. Or maybe it’s just me. Whatever I lack, I chase. Apparently. Maybe?
I’m learning the art of attracting rather than chase. If I chase, I’m desperate. If I step back, I’m self-absorbed. Fuck it, I accept both labels. Proudly. I prefer being in auto-pilot. Life is so much easier in auto-pilot. I call it Jess World. Deconstructing is such a pain in the arse! I mean, seriously. I dunno if deconstructing my world does more good or bad in this current chapter. Talking about the storm whilst in the storm is something that I’m not familiar with…
Sometimes I think that I really don’t like myself. Other times I just think that perhaps I think too highly of myself. My life, after all, is an endless dance of growth through stretch goals.
***
I was reading an article yesterday titled “If you want to enjoy the 1%, then be willing to do what the other 99% won’t.” The article was about the journey to Ironman. I’m not going to lie, it’s a massive feat and hats go off to anyone undertaking that journey. I know that I’m a better person after completing mine. I just haven’t decided on my capacity to continue the sport. I LOVE LOVE LOVE the community, not as petty as other athletic communities and far less filled with sexual deviants. For the most part. Slightly obsessed with muscles and how perfectly the dresses hug in the right areas. For me, it’s more about the low key confidence and lack of tolerance for the talkers. There was a point in time where a 70.3 “professional athlete” was discouraging my approach to training for a 140.6. He clearly wasn’t an athlete, nor did he use one of his biggest muscles (the one between his ears) – he had zero understanding of weight training to prevent injury. I’ve been a runner for nearly 20 years, I might not be an expert but I know a few things… And I have a fairly injury-free record to support my approach. That’s my favourite part of Ironman. It’s quantifiable: ‘Cross the finish line, then you are qualified to talk about it’ attitude. NO drama. Just a matter of fact. Put in the work, achieve your goals then share your knowledge. It drives me nuts when people mess up this order of processing…
***
VALOR
***
The General’s Daughter is filled with diamonds… “it was awful… cheated? worse. drugs? worse. rape? worse. what’s worse than rape? when you find that out, then you’ll know everything, won’t you?”
***
BETRAYAL
***
My heart wants to talk about the biggest betrayal that I’ve ever had to endure but my mind will not allow my fingers to type the words. I’m not ready to rip off that band-aid. Not yet. When it comes to things close to my heart, I like to dip my toes in the water. Yesterday, I shared a soft moment. I poured my heart out and today I will dance around. I will share subtle things but not put it in black and white. That’s not true. It’s already written. Just not in order. To understand me and my journey, one has to be clever. It’s not a story that one can just jump in the and out of. The story is actually written. It’s already been told. It’s all there. Sprinkled in various social media posts. It’s telling in how I interact and respond to others. It’s the depth of my eyes. It’s the pain in my smile. It’s the joy in my tears. Yes, joy.
A wise man once said, ‘Everything has its beauty but not everyone sees it.’ Its days like today when I crawl back into my shell and hid behind the words of famous people because sharing my magic is just… terrifying. The walls go up and I just sit.
***
Part of my inner circle at the moment is filled with people who no longer have a heartbeat or only lived on paper. They cannot discuss things. That’s my current requirement: One-sided inspiration. Mother Theresa, Dr Suess, Steve Prefontaine, Buddha, Confucius, Mark Twain, Robert Frost… the people whom remind me of my strength, power of expressing emotions and remember to pause and enjoy each part of the journey. It’s time to sit, reflect, and just be. I don’t want to talk about anything. I want to be celebrated. I’m past verbal communication. I’m all for telepathy. If you feel my vibe, cool. If my words resonate, cool. Am I available for discussion? Absolutely not. Not right now at least. People, living people, allowed in my circle take interest in my current goals. Life is pretty simple. I’m done with cloudy intentions and people sucking my energy. People that want me to make them feel comfortable. People wanting me to stroke their ego and help build them. Sorry I’m unavailable. I’m not interested in building you when my current focus is to write a book and admire my pieces. All the beautiful pieces…
Day 8. Freewriting. I’m having an emotional moment. It’s a combination of grief and longing. With a side of guilt. These emotions are so intense that I subconsciously call on my guardian angels (my grandfathers) as my tears fall…
Grandpas – I miss you. All the power in those words. I cannot bring myself to delete your names from my phone book…I’ve had 3 phones since you passed. I’ve had more days of feeling broken than feeling normal. I dunno what’s wrong with me but pulling myself together this time around is just ridiculous. I thought it was time to come back to the USA but there are so many days that just make me miss you even more. Thanksgiving is just around the corner. I used to LOVE holidays but slowly each one cast a shadow larger than life. Since our Thanksgiving celebration in 2009, it’s been nothing but disappointment. I know it’s my perspective but I’m trying to get my mind right. Rather than be grateful for the people that I shared a table with, I think about the ‘friend’ that showed up late and then ate all of mom’s cookies (without a thank you). Rather than be grateful for being home, I’m reminded that the last Thanksgiving in the USA, I spent in a motel because of Michael switching schedules last minute. I’m by far one of the strongest people I know and for some reason, I keep viewing myself as incapable. It doesn’t help that the voices of the critics are so loud. I remember a day where I was once immune to the critics. I had perfected that message of I’m better than you without actually having to say I’m better than you to the peanut gallery. Our last Thanksgiving, dad thanked Michael’s girlfriend for wanting to be a part of our family but didn’t even give thanks that I traveled halfway around the world just for that weekend. I am drowning in hurt. I don’t have anger. I wish I had anger because at least then, I’d know how to process. Even when you passed, I was in Saudi Arabia. Dad called me just before I needed to be at a company dinner. My boss gave me an out in case I didn’t want to go. He even offered to arrange for all my flights to get home direct rather than fly back to Singapore then Chicago. The Saudi’s were sweet and said some kind words and a prayer for you (in Arabic) over dinner. That was tough. One of the Pakistani’s was constantly getting picked on and I was his choice as a punching bag. He made my life difficult for sport and I promised myself to never let him win. At dinner, after the prayer, he asked me in English if you were a wealthy man. My snap reaction was to shrug my shoulders and cautiously say, “my grandfather was wealthy in ways that you will never understand.” That was me processing anger. I didn’t allow myself to fall apart until I returned back to Singapore. To date, there is only a handful of people that have seen me cry, really cry. I’m perfectly ok with that. Over the years, I prefer people thinking I’m a machine to declaring I’m emotionally unstable. Tears are unacceptable. Just because others lack a heart doesn’t mean I should mute mine… That’s a tug of war for another time… It’s days like today that I question if I said I love you enough. Did you know that you were my hero? Did you know how much strength I drew from you? Did you know how much I miss just being able to sit. Cry. Talk. Be quiet. Laugh. Sip coffee. Just be without having to do anything. There were zero thoughts racing through my head. Perhaps it was because I knew that I was safe. Perhaps it was because I knew I was going to be on an airplane in certain days. I dunno.
My current goals are probably the biggest goals that I’ve EVER set. They are bigger than climbing corporate ladders. They are bigger than building a piggy bank. Heck, my current goals are bigger than Ironman. I’m rewiring myself. I know that I’m growing. I know that I get better each day. I know that I have a huge jump coming up. I know that I’m not failing… kind of. But my heart feels different. I still have more days where my head is trying to overpower my heart. Sometimes they are on the same page but most days they are fighting with one another. My head is echoing the comments from the peanut gallery. I refuse to write their words because that gives them power. It’s bad enough they are thoughts in my head… I’m going to break this cycle.
I get upset when people criticize me for stuff they are completely ignorant to. I get upset with every tear that falls from my face because I allowed someone to make me feel less than human. I could have a million critics but it didn’t matter because I knew no matter what I had you and Lemonhead in my corner. I knew that no matter what, I was untouchable because you knew the purity of my heart. I still have a mom but she’s kind of Buddhist. She leans on the side of just let it go because worrying about it does more self-harm than anything. I get where she is coming from but that Italian blood is just… I dunno. The years of running, I just burned off my anger or emotions or whatever was bothering me. Then switching to meditation, I became more aware and sensitive. I opened Pandora’s box… Now with writing, I know that this is part of the healing process. I’m a pretty cryer (seriously). But seriously?! I know that I cannot rush this process but [today] I’m struggling to find the joy of the tears. I’m trying to thank my softer side for coming out and just allowing the flow. I’m trying to remind myself that crying is a sign of strength, not weakness. I know that emotions are beautiful. A few months ago, an Uncle commented how I lack respect for elders. Funny enough, my head wanted to put him in his place with a single comment. I still have it. I always have that ready-made comment to shut someone up. I haven’t used that muscle in about 5 years but it’s there. I can feel it wanting to come out more times than I care to admit. Thankfully my mind is so strong that it wins that battle with my heart every.single.time. So perhaps alignment isn’t such a good idea after all. Scratch that.
I wanted to ask him when was the last time he visited his mother in the nursing home? Considering he also referred to his sister as ‘body’ when she died and the day before pubically commented how he resented his sister for being ‘perfect at everything’. Yes, elder sister. But I am the one that lacks respect for my elders. I wish I was making this up. Rather than fight fire with fire, and point out the obvious, I kept it about me and asked for an example to support his claim. Personally, that’s the more difficult path. At least for me. Sometimes I think some people need to be put into their place. But my challenge is to be reasonable with irrational people. The only rule I was asked to follow was no fighting. Defending myself is considered fighting and I forgot the golden rule of the family: you pick on the ones you love. Criticisms are not bad, it’s a sign of love. I don’t buy into this concept. I think that words are meant to build, not break. Criticisms are rude and it’s a major component of what I call “Fuckery.”
A few days later, he went to visit his mother. I still haven’t received an apology and will not hold my breath. This situation happened on the front steps at my aunties house. Standing there is like pouring rubbing alcohol in an open wound.
I love that Auntie loved mom so much. I love that Auntie kept little things. I love the stories of Auntie’s pure strength from Maria. Did you know that Auntie changed a lock and threatened to have someone arrested if they even so much as showed their face in her building ever again? That’s pretty bad@ss.
There are 3 people in the family that I wish you [or St. Jude] could ‘handle’ for me. I feel like these peanut galleries were quiet when you were around. I do think you would admire that these people are finally playing as a team. Even if I’m the reason for bringing them together. Actually, I think that’s my purpose in their journey. They are able to bond with bullying me. Wow. Writing is actually more clearing than I gave it credit for. I dunno why but writing letters to others seem to be more clarifying than just a note to myself or rehashing something in diary WTF form. I think that I’m going to keep my freeflow addressed to specific people moving forward.
Emotions are meant to be felt, not always understood. Most issues were solved with a hug or a hot plate of food… Maybe I was wrong in my quest to process to understand to heal… My expectations are too high in expecting closure for certain things. The world is right, I need to accept and let go. The guilt that comes along with letting go… The massive guilt…
Day 5. Freewriting. Self-criticism -> Self-Love. Everyone has parts of them that they wish to change or soften. My first thought is what would I change about me?
*5 seconds later* N.o.t.h.i.n.g.
I’m absolutely perfect. I don’t have imperfections. I have quirks. I KNOW I have pure intentions so any misunderstandings come from the other side, not from me. Well, maybe I’m awkward and can soften my execution. Wait, scratch that, I’m awesome! EVERYTHING is done with heart. The good. The great. The show-stopping-amazing. It’s sometimes messy but it’s always beautiful. I assure you there is a reason behind every.single.quirk.
Strengthen my sense of self. Check.
Find my voice. Check.
Turn a whisper into a ROAR. In progress … almost there
* * *
ABC’s of Jessica Corvo
A. I have serious difficulty turning down athletic challenges. I know my limits, I’m joking. I have ZERO limits for athletic challenges! Bring.it.on.
B. Mel Bochner is my favourite artist. I own 2 of his pieces. His studio is in NYC and marketers at Two Palms are absolutely delightful!
C. Corned-beef hash with 2 fried eggs is my breakfast go-to. Add some sweet potatoes and I’m completely weak in the knees! This dish is magical.
D. If I invite you to a diner, it means I trust you and have let my guard down, completely. Never abuse this opportunity. It’s not made to everyone.
E. I’m extremely mindful of my energy. I do my best to follow my intuition and let go of things that no longer serve me.
F. I require food every few hours. Real food, not snacks. During training months, I consume 5 meals/day.
G. My life revolves around setting and crushing stretch goals. Tell me something cannot be done and I’ll most likely push it to the top of my list, just because.
H. My heart is typically open. It’s still slightly guarded but it’s nearly back to normal.
I. The Ironman community has space in my heart. Accepting of who they are today and striving for a better version tomorrow.
J. My momma bear’s puppy, Jax has stolen my heart. I can spend hours cuddling with this bundle of joy. I love his sassy side. He is my love bug.
K. Kindness is the main quality I look for in other people.
L. Very few things beat a handwritten letter. At one point, my letters of gratitude were all handwritten. I wonder if anyone has kept their letters…
M. My mommabear is my favourite and also the most inspiring person I’ve ever met.
N. My soul needs to spend time in nature. It’s essential for my survival.
O. I’m like an onion. What you see is what you get but I go deep and I feel everything. Self-awareness is a double-edged sword.
P. My passion is unmatched. If I feel strongly about something, good luck changing my mind. When I set my sights on something, I don’t stop until my mission is accomplished.
Q. I’m constantly asking questions. Sometimes people think I’m trying to be funny but really, I’m just trying to learn. Everyone has the capacity to be a teacher.
R. A world of black & white is cold and dark … I much prefer residing in a world viewed through my rose-coloured lens.
S. I’m doing my best to bring out my sassiness. It’s an art to put people in their place in a classy and lighthearted manner.
T. My favourite classroom will always be travelling.
U. A used book is like a true friend: supportive, uplifting and reliable.
V. I’m a bit of a purist, one of my obsessions is vipassana. Observe the body, master the mind.
W. I seriously struggle to stay hydrated. My default weapon of choice is a Nalgene filled with tap water.
X. I love converting xenophobic people from a place of fear to a place of love. Sometimes I’m American. Other times I’m Chinese. On the rare occasion, I’m Italian. We WILL be friends by the end of a conversation.
Y. Call me juvenile but yellow buses remind me to always be a student. Stay humble because even with an abundance of experience, there is always something more to learn.
Z. Zero tolerance. I tend to overlook bad habits so I’m working on being unwavering in pursuit to build my muscle of zero tolerance. Main no-fly zones are things like rudeness, hate, aggression, and objectification. If it’s not coming from a place of LOVE, I have zero tolerance. I think that’s very reasonable.
* * *
This challenge allowed me to embrace the side of me that I get heavily criticised, my emotions. Fundamentally, I know that my emotions are beautiful. Sometimes, I believe the lie and think that I’m unreasonable or too sensitive… At the end of the day, there is actually very little to criticise me on. Perfection is pointless. Life is meant to be messy, chaotic, beautiful and leave footprints on my heart. Thankfully, I’m now asking people to take off their shoes before walking into my house.
Jenny helps me shift from people pleaser to being unapologetic. I broke my freewriting rule and was listening to this whilst writing. Truthfully, I listened to this from the 5-second pause. I LOVE LOVE LOVE that my new spirit animal is a wildebeest. They are clumsy, rough and fierce. They leave others alone but if you mess with them or threaten their family, they will fight you to the death. LOUD. LOYAL. LOVING. Did you know that if a wildebeest feels threatened, they will even charge a lion to show them who’s boss? That’s so bad@ss! I like that. Last year was a Unicorn. I’m now a wildebeest.
Day 2. Freewriting. I have a LOT of things to do today and need to have a strong mindset. This is my morning flow to clear my head.
Who is mentally unwell: the person committing suicide or the person lacking empathy?
Sometimes I break my own heart – it’s the only way to let in the light.
Whether it’s tears of joy or tears of sorrow, both bring me happiness, eventually.
Staying in the present moment is difficult when I’m constantly reminded of what I deserve
You tell me to have standards and be careful who is allowed into my world but the rules were never meant to be applied to you…
You prepared me to navigate a sea of heartbreakers but where is the manual for the spiritual vampires. Those are the truly dangerous ones…
I got tired of autopilot, singing praises, and waiting for something better than disappointment.
Quotable people take on a new meaning after dancing in the storms you created…
Most days I tell myself that I’m grateful you never raped me. It could always be worse.
My daily struggle is wondering what I can fix about myself to make you love me.
Perfection is exhausting and doesn’t win many friends. The wise ones understand the motives and the ignorant get jealous.
I wish I could heal your wounds but I’m too busy piecing myself back together.
I have a body of a 22-year-old. The mind of a 55-year-old. And. The soul of a 88-year-old.
I’m sorry. My ears closed the second you started throwing your bullshit my way.
I proved mental resilience by climbing corporate ladders. I proved physical resilence by completing an Ironman. Emotional challenges, all I seem to do is fail. I’m all heart. I think that’s a good thing. The world could use more heart… But I need a better way of dealing before this destroys me.
It’s it ironic that the people meant to protect you are the ones you need to be protected from?
I take full responsibility in every situation. I forgive your acts of aggression and I”m learning to forgive myself for accepting such behavior.
The only difference between projections and gas lighting is persistence and consistency. I wish you set different goals.
Projections are you being unaligned. Gaslighting is pulling me into your messy world. No thank you.
I’ve seen both sides of the tracks. People with less are generally better humans.
That moment when people expose their truth. Breaks my heart when they realize I will not sleep with them. As if I was a piece of meat.
I enjoy calling people out. I always know how you will react, people with pure intentions will apologize straight away… The rest will lash out or somehow make you the villain.
People crack me up. I’m going to start wishing others a day they deserve and let karma do the rest.
Tug of war between letting go of you and processing my emotions. I need to learn the lesson being offered so history doesn’t repeat itself.
I love fully. I give without expectation. Take that for granted and you will see the other side of me. It’s not pretty.
Day 1. Freewriting. Processing hurt: Crack open your heart to let in the light…
They say that everything happens for a reason. Sometimes things are meant to build you up and other times, things happen to remind you of your inner strength.
I have spent YEARS trying to conceal the heartbreaking parts of my life. I hide behind doing a spiritual journey in hopes to find forgiveness, peace or just that amazing patience that everyone keeps talking about… Every few years, something happens where I’m confident to share my story and then I get scared.
Yes, scared.
I’m scared of a few things. I’m scared that despite years of inner work, my skin is not thick enough for criticism (constructive is OK but people are just cruel and judgy). I hate that look. I’m scared that my sense of self is completely distorted (What if I’m actually a complete shithead).
I [wholeheartedly] celebrate the fact that despite any adversity, my heart has never been hardened. My skin is [currently] thin and my heart is soft. I’m [typically] unbelievably strong but also sensitive. I get hurt easily and that’s OK. It’s only recently, that I’ve embraced this soft side as a superpower rather than a weakness.
It’s a beautiful thing to have a soft heart in such a cruel world. To keep a focus on the helpers and try to use my inner white light to inspire others. To know that even if only ONE person reads this article, that there is a chance that I have shared my power for the good.
To every person that has hurt me, whether conscious or unconscious. Thank you! Thank you for the opportunity to expose my blind spots. Thank you for allowing me to grow. Above all, thank you for being a teacher that I needed. Perhaps, I didn’t necessarily want you but I definitely needed you for growth. Sincerely.
The Jess you once knew has evolved into something even more beautiful. The new Jess refuses to accept the darkness in your heart. The old Jess would apologize for your hurting and ask “How can I help?” but the new Jess simply says, “I feel bad for your pain. I send you love for your healing journey.” I’m learning that if I need to set boundaries, then those people shouldn’t be allowed into my space. Full Stop.
My world is filled with givers, not takers. Every time you use words like the ultimatum, I laugh because it shows that you really do not understand the concept of personal responsibility or accountability. I always give a choice, act right or I walk away. My dignity won’t be compromised to protect your ego.
I’ve also realized the important difference between anger and hurt. I process anger with great ease. My best version comes out when I’m pissed off, whether it’s sport, writing, crisis management or just adulting in general. The most intense years of abuse are the same years that I made the biggest growth jumps. I am able to intuitively (and flawlessly) process anger into a fortress of building blocks of amazing. Maybe it’s the fact that I LOVE LOVE LOVE proving people wrong! It’s the hurt that catches me off guard. I’m currently building this muscle. I haven’t done myself any favors by dodging feelings like it’s a full-time job. I’m finally to a point where the pictures don’t make my heart hurt. The mention of your name doesn’t feel like someone punched me in the stomach. I can sleep through the night and I haven’t had an emotional breakdown in about 3 months.
Just when I think that I’m back to ‘normal’ and strong, I get thrown a curve ball. Apparently, I didn’t learn the intended lesson… I take a breath, I view the situation from a few perspectives then I sit. I try to process whatever is left but this journey cannot be forced. I acknowledge that I only said “yes” because I wasn’t ready to deal with my reality. You were my escape. Your definition of love was to control me. You endangered my health from a physical and emotional perspective. You tried to convince me that my job was to continuously stroke your ego and cater to your every whim. I happily sipped your koolaide because gambling with you was the lesser of two evils. I grossly under estimated your fuckery. What a fantastic experience though…
Thank you for the experience and for helping me grow. Your unwillingness to support my decision with my family resulted in me making myself vulnerable on facebook. That vulnerability helped me reconnect with some kind souls and also join some Domestic Violence support groups. That shift ultimately helped me identify themes and find my voice in my writing. From there, I was able to go from victim to survivor to thriver. I was about 2 months ahead of the masses in posting about abuse (my focus is on the grassroots issue: mental wellness). That means that my healing journey is to a point where I can field ignorant comments with a PR hat. I also realized that the biggest supply of aggressive and unhealed people is the sexual abuse bucket (as opposed to the silently suffering narc abuse, domestic abuse, or general emotional abuse buckets).
I digress.
My purpose is to help people. Specifically, my challenge is to deconstruct my life/processes and My mission is to share my story to promote mental wellness.
* * *
Earlier this year I made an extremely questionable decision. I actively broke my own heart. I allowed someone into my space as a means to heal a different part of my world. I cannot say that I did this intentionally but after lots of reflection, I cannot come up with any other justification. I needed to experience a narcissist from a new perspective. I’m done breaking my own heart. Well, I think I’m done breaking my own heart. I hope I’m done breaking my own heart.
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I thrive in most situations due to an unwillingness to accept fear. I typically live on the other side of fear. I climb ladders. I finish endurance races. more time in a place of fear (rather than a place of love). It was fear that future employers/business partners/friends would view my rambles as broken (rather than an incredible amount of self-awareness). It was fear that my most aggressive abuser would actually advance the next level of his abuse and kill me (rather than accept that I cannot control anything except how I treat others with love and compassion). It was fear that perhaps the [very noisey] minority is correct and there is something fundamentally wrong with me (rather than understanding I’m healing a broken heart and that’s a beautiful part of life). It was fear of the criticisms of walking out of an engagement because I wasn’t being treated right (rather than celebrate that I never entertain people unless they bring out my best version).
Aside from the lessons, one thing that I’m so incredibly grateful for is the ability to articulate my emotions. I’m REALLY good at feeling my feelings and this year has been spent observing them. Writing helps this process. I woke up irritated and now my heart is filled with love.
Saying the last few months have been a whirlwind of amazing would be a gross understatement. The summer has been a wonderful reminder of your strength, beauty, and grace. I am in complete awe – I admire SO MANY things about you…
Presence. When you give, you give fully. There is no question. Part of the beauty of giving fully is the inability to give up. That leads me to…
Stubbornness. Thank you for the unwavering insistence to achieve the goal of being unconditional. You are a constant reminder to keep the goal but it’s OK to redefine the plan. This leads me to…
Resilience. I used to think that the only true failure is giving up. Now I think it’s OK to walk away from things that no longer serve you, provided you learn the lesson being offered. Sometimes it’s best to love from afar. This leads me too…
Boundaries. Gosh – boundaries have not typically existed for the ones you love. 2017 provided some amazing opportunities to set [healthy] boundaries for your emotional and spiritual well being. This was a bumpy road but you came out stronger. Love really does conquer all thanks to the help of a few friends. This leads me to…
Alignment. Leading from heart center is perfectly acceptable. It’s actually encouraged as long as in the right company. Can we please agree that moving forward, everything will be collaborative and will include our friends, mind and body? Continue leading the decision making, just bring the teamsters with you, OK? This leads me to…
Purity. Your most amazing qualities are your ability to embrace, cleanse, and grow. This process is beautiful and has been essential to ensure your softness.
Bringing everything full circle, THANK YOU for the newly minted and eternally cherished mantra “Everyone deserves my love, but not everyone deserves my time.”
THANK YOU for being a bright light on a cloudy day.
THANK YOU for being powerful beyond comprehension.
THANK YOU for staying soft when the world tried to harden you.
Most importantly, THANK YOU for never.EVER.giving.up.
Usually, I write letters of gratitude directly but this time I have to post on social media as I haven’t mustered up the courage to introduce myself. I wanted you to know you are admired and respected for the following reasons.
your discipline to do cardio at the start of each session
it seems like every day is leg day
you re-rack your weights
you acknowledge my presence but NEVER interrupt my session
BONUS – I haven’t seen you taking selfies or checking your phone between sets (Your focus on personal development is intoxicating…)
I have a ‘no dating’ policy until after my big race (I’m doing Ironman in a few months) but I fully intend to invite you for a meal in June. Assuming you are single, my intention is to shamelessly flirt with you whilst eating delicious food!
Until then Mr. Gym Rat, thank you for being you! Early mornings are easier when I get to see you in gym. Your presence motivates others, myself included!
Visits home are typically spent with family and minimal amount of time to see friends. This trip, I was VERY fortunate to be invited to speak with high schoolers about my experiences in Asia. We covered a bunch of topics related to infrastructure, starting conversations with strangers, and thriving outside your comfort zone.
find every opportunity to jump on a stage to work on your public speaking skills! Tonight’s ‘performance’ was testing my improv skills. My story-telling skills…