a beautiful mess.

I don’t know if I’ve ever blogged about this, but..

I am a beautiful  m e s s.

I’ve been that way all my life. I live to please people. I am the positive spark that keeps motivation alive. I am the clever sarcasm that allows laughter to break through walls. I am the friend who will let you in.. or answer my phone.. at 2am if you are lost or stranded. I am a giver. I give more than I have many times, and compensate by living moderately.

Although I don’t always believe it, I have been blessed with beauty. My eyes, they always shine. They glitter with happiness. There isn’t an ounce of me that won’t, for one second, try and make you laugh.. even in my most miserable of days. I am honest. Almost to a fault.. hahahaha 😉 I always see both sides to a story. I believe in the impossible.

This is where it gets messy. I am so positive, so shining, so focused on keeping other emotions alive, so expected to be this way.. that there are days, weeks even.. this one in particular, where every vulnerability, every fear, every bit of insecurity bursts out every pore. The tears fighting.. and I mean  f i g h t i n g  to stay in my little eyeballs. Tears people. Tears that only about 5 people in my life have ever seen. 5.

And honestly it partially angers me. Because you would think that someone of my nature who does nothing but smile, and can make a joke about the ‘darkest of days’, could have more people around when my emotions have hiccups. Instead what I get are awkward moments of confusion. I’m serious. It’s strange.

People ask the required, “Are you ok? I’m here to talk about it if you want.” And I know deep down these sad souls have no clue what they are talking about, because the minute an emotion surfaces, the conversation quickly turns to something more generic like work, or weekend plans. Why.. why ask at all? If you can’t handle me being normal, then just allow me to continue my routine that I am so very well versed in. Because I get it. I can barely handle myself too in these moments. But I guess it’s a double-edged sword. With no expression of emotion at the time of the emotion.. it builds.. and hence becomes me, right now. An over-emotional-beautiful-mess.  Literal emotional vomit.

Knowing this has made me cynical of those who are the same way.. Engaging and positive, happy and glowing all the time. I assume they are hiding something deep. In most cases, it’s true. There are many people like me, because there is just no physical way to constantly be emotionally perfect. Everyone needs an outlet or an explosion.

So why then? Why must we play these charades? Why can’t people handle emotion? If we just dealt with them we would probably love each other more because we would see who we actually are. Which might explain the 3 friends I have. They allow me to be vulnerable.

My apologies that this has just turned into a mini rant.. which I guess exemplifies the ‘mess’ in my beautiful. But for those who can empathize, can we try and break down those barriers?! It would surely make my life much easier.

And for those who only expect my beautiful I say: Don’t ask me questions if you don’t want the answer.. and in turn, don’t question my charade when its you, who in fact, can’t handle the real.

The end.

back to the drawing board.

i literally just erased this entire post about 30 minutes ago.

i realized, one: i like typing in lowercase, hehe.. and two: i keep these drafts that are meant to be finished at the time of emotion.. yet they just sit in my queue. the universe must be telling me something. ive noticed that when i stretch and stretch out thoughts.. the main idea tends to get lost. i start focusing on my grammar more than my thought.

knowing this.. i decided to just type up a recap of this last post that i meant to publish, and just explain the angst inside me as simple as possible.

Ahem.. So.. after 11 months of being away, I took a trip back East.. visited some peeps, went on a few adventures.. had the BEST.BREAKFAST.EVER, but missed my bestest waitress 😦 I felt comfort in the city and lost in the woods. I realized within two days that this was no longer “home”. I then realized days later on the plane back West.. that one: I have been struggling with this idea of “home” for a while, and two: there were now only about 3 people that I could still call family.

This trip was a great learning experience. Most people found my explanation of my trip rather strange.. not understanding my confusion with feelings. You see I thought, as most of the people who know me thought, that I would land in Boston, breathe in the air, have a cannoli.. then drive up into the woods and relish in all its greenery.. and one changing leaf.

But that didn’t happen. I mean, I was very happy to see people.. some more than others, of course.. it’s always about the people. However, there was something weird and unsettling about it all. In all the familiarity and comfort, it’s like I no longer belonged. And maybe this was just a taste of my own medicine. Because for 18 of the 18yrs I lived in New England.. all I talked about was moving back West. I was always a SoCal girl to many.. I was a SoCal girl at heart.

SoCal was where I fell in love with the ocean, where I learned to play volleyball at the age of 9. Where I grew up learning from my father that I could do whatever I wanted as long as I worked hard enough.. and don’t let anyone tell me otherwise because I was a girl (you got it dad! 🙂 ).

But New England.. New England is where my love for the ocean grew, and where I was given the opportunity to play volleyball through college. It’s where I saw first hand that it is hard work that you needed to succeed. It’s like SoCal was the idea, and New England was the blueprint (for simplicity’s sake we’ll call it a plan).. and now full circle.. I am on to the execution stage.

It’s funny too, because thats exactly how I feel. Like I am taking two pieces of life and trying to make them fit together. And they can’t. Because plans come from ideas.. and you cant execute anything without a plan.

So instead of trying to figure out what “home” is, I am trying to find comfort in knowing that I love both places in different ways, and more important, both places are a piece of me.. whether I like it or not. One is the spark, the other the flame.

I just need to focus on loving the ideas I love, and re-evaluating the plans I don’t love.. to keep working on the execution.

i dont know why i never posted this..

In sifting through some past journal entries, I found something from March of 2011.

In it, I wrote about a couple of friends who said something to me about “Learning to accept the things that haven’t happened and move on.”

On the previous page, I wrote about my anxiety about my plans for the future, and having concern that I had lost my idea of what my ‘Dreams’ were.. because you can’t follow something that doesn’t exist.

Anyway, I continued to write about the fact that I did not agree with this statement of ‘accepting things that haven’t happened’. Because I wanted to make things happen. Even if it was in small doses. I wrote about moving to CA (oh look at that!) and saying that I’d rather make it out here and last 3months than never making an effort at all. Because really, just because something hasn’t happened doesn’t mean it still can’t. If we just accept the things that haven’t happened, then what is the point of having dreams or aspirations? Why dream at all?

Looking back, I can obviously see what my friends were trying to say.. because right, you can’t change the past, you can’t change things that haven’t happened. You shouldn’t live and wonder ‘what if’. I think that was the point for me though, and the reason why I disagreed. Because there is always tomorrow. So why move on? Why even have a ‘what if’?! Take tomorrow by the horns and make something happen.

In my 32 years of my existence I have learned the obvious: We cannot change the past.. but that does not mean that what we have not accomplished cannot still be done now. Or tomorrow. And as crazy as life may be, and as fragile – and short even – there is still an opportunity to make things happen. And more so, a reason to be motivated. Knowing life is uncertain gives more of a reason to conquer today and think about those ‘what if’s’ and turn them into ‘this is what happened when I..’

Still thinking about that old college friend? Social Networking was created for you. Mad at yourself for not asking that guy/girl out last month? You probably know where to find them.. just do it. What’s the worst that can happen? They tell you they’re engaged!? BAHAHA (inside joke, and either way, at least now you know, and you’ve got a good story) Trying to get a Masters? a PhD? If money is a factor, start one class at a time. In the end, you will feel even more accomplished.

My point is, I would rather accept – what people call – ‘failure’ in trying. I would rather be late in the game, and getting even just a small piece of what I wanted, rather than accepting the nothingness of never trying. Why even have the talk about ‘accepting things that haven’t happened’? Why not just make them happen.. no matter how small, no matter how much time has passed. I would rather have stories to tell, even embarrassing ones, than having to ‘learn to accept..’ a nothing.