Tag: blogging

flagged.

.Reading time 3 minutes.

The hardest thing sometimes in fledgling relationships is seeing red flags. And even harder than seeing the red flags are listening to them, and walking away from them when it’s smart to do so.

Historically, I have had a terrible time with part two of the above statement. I can see red flags all day, sometimes from a mile away, but I am a master at justification. This problem usually rears its ugly head with the emotionally unavailable… those signs are ALWAYS there, yet, do I listen? Nope. Neeewwwp.

On the flip side, are red flags always deal breakers? Do they have to be? Or are they things that one should simply be wary of and use as a warning to proceed with caution? After all, no one is perfect, and when you’re dating in your late 20s – early 30s, it’s really hard to find someone without SOME baggage, amirite?

Here’s the other tough part with red flags, and I know this isn’t something that only I have trouble with (lookin at you, B) – how do we filter out the REALLY bad red flags, the ones we should listen to and/or run away from, before we are emotionally invested in someone? Since these traits don’t always pop up in the first week or two of dating, how do we shield ourselves, while still being open enough to get to know someone? This shit is damn near impossible, people. Or maybe I’m bad at humaning, whatever. But that’s really the ultimate question… how do I know someone’s red flag is a deal breaker, and how do I abort mission before my own feelings are involved?

I don’t have the answers to this, obviously, but one thing I have learned is that people will generally tell you who they are, sometimes it’s just up to us to listen. When a guy says “I don’t have a girlfriend because I’m an asshole,” there’s a really good chance that said guy is, in fact, an asshole. Girls are just notoriously bad for hearing what we want to hear, or making excuses to make a square peg fit in a round hole. Oh well. C’est la vie.

Until next time,

xoxo, Tempest.

 

 

untethered.

.Reading time 2 minutes.

I’ve been out of my element for about two weeks now, and I would be lying if I said it wasn’t wearing on me a little bit. It is very strange. I feel… Out of sorts. I don’t really know anyone here. When I say this to my friends back home everyone is like, “What, you? You have all kinds of friends!” No, no. I do not have many, if any, friends here. I have acquaintances. I’m surprisingly adept at making acquaintances, to the point where I would consider meeting people and striking a common chord a super power.

People who have my back though… Different story altogether.

Mix that with my amazingly wide open social calendar and yeah, not the best feeling in the world I guess. I’m not used to having nothing to do, and it gets me down. It puts me in a spot where I want to just do nothing. I don’t feel like going out and meeting people and having to be cool girl right now. I don’t feel like having to put on a smile 24 fucking 7 when really I want to veg out and feel sorry for myself. Work is great, and I’m damn good at my job, but fuck, I’m lonely. I’m not good at being lonely. Being alone, absolutely. Lonely… Not so much.

The worst part is, I don’t even have anyone I can really talk to about it. My friends back home are trucking along. I don’t have anyone here really so… I guess I can talk to my cat? Ugh. This life.

Anyway, hopefully this won’t last long. I’m going to try and just focus on work and getting my new place all prettied up and go from there. It’ll work out, one way or another. It always does.

xoxo, Tempest.

 

tempest.

.Reading time 3 minutes.

As I have mentioned before, I use a pseudonym to stay anonymous on this blog, and that name is Tempest. This of course, comes from Shakespeare’s play, The Tempest, which starts out with a pretty fucked up magical storm. I picked this name for a pseudonym because more often than not, I have a pretty stormy personality. It usually applies more to myself than to my situation..until recently. Because damn, if I’m not in a storm right now.

I have written quite a bit recently about my move from the dirty South up to the Northeast. It’s been a bit crazy, and I have definitely gone through a whirlwind of emotions. I’m sad to have left behind the place I’ve called home for the last several years. I almost feel guilty for leaving my friends, even though I know I did it for the right reasons.

I know I’ve said it before, but holy shit I’m terrified that I’m going to just fail and fall flat on my face up here. I don’t know if I will really meet people, people that will have my back. Knowing coworkers is one thing, and I have some great friends that I’ve made over the years that started as coworkers. But what if I don’t meet anyone that I can really connect with? What if I make the same mistakes with friends and relationships that I’ve made my whole life? What if I end up not only alone, but ridiculously unhappy?

One of my biggest fears is feeling like I will never really fit in anywhere. That I will always be the odd one out. I will never truly belong.

These are the thoughts going through my head during this uprooting. These kinds of thoughts, on top of the fact that I am still trying to get settled, spending a shit ton of money on furnishing a new place, and trying to find a groove in general. It’s a lot. Oh, this is all happening whilst I am still working my old job and my new one, by the way. I’m hoping there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Hopefully I will start to see it soon.

change.

.Reading time 4 minutes.

I suspect I will be posting a lot more in the coming weeks, since I have so much change ahead of me and will need to go on a few rants here and there.

Tonight is my final night in Atlanta. Phew. It has absolutely not sunk in yet.

I have been reflecting today on how I want to use this upcoming fresh start to my advantage. I have this golden opportunity to start brand new, and to really be the person I want to be. The question is… who the fuck is that?

To tackle this question, I’ve come up with three main focus areas for my new life.

One of the problems I find myself running into is that I don’t really know how to let myself let go sometimes. I am lacking a chill zone. I like to plan, I like things to go accordingly, I like when things fall into place. But the thing about life is.. it doesn’t really like letting that happen. And then I end up stressed out, anxious, worried, pushing people away, getting myself into a funk and… for what? Step one in new life: Chill. The Fuck. Out.

Another recurring theme in my life is my problems with interpersonal relationships. I used to think this was just romantic relationships, but I have recently realized I have issues with pretty much all relationships. I am great at making friends and being very social, but I am not so good at connecting with people on a deeper level. This is partially because I keep a pretty solid wall up to protect myself, which does work but… while it keeps me safe, it also keeps people from being able to get to know the truly weird and wonderful me. Step two in new life: Be who I really am, and if people don’t like it they can suck it. 

The third step is the hardest. I am deathly afraid of ending up alone or not being cared about. I say I am happy being single, and in a lot of ways I am, but in many ways I feel like I’m always looking for that next great love. However, I also know that before I conquer steps 1&2, I am not ready for it, and all I am doing is setting myself up for failure if I try to force it. I. am not. ready. I know that. I can’t let things flow, I am not open. As mentioned above, I know this, and am ready to take the steps to get there, but logically, I need to be alone. I need to be alone to experience my life and what I want out of it before I try to bring another person in at that level. Step three in new life: stand strong by myself, for myself. 

My next post will be from another state!! Woooo!

xoxo, Tempest.

departure.

.Reading time 3 minutes.

So hey, I’m moving in like.. 3 days. When do I get to FULLY freak out? Now? Is now okay?

Realistically, I have had about 1.5 solid panic attacks this week. One real good one, the other I was able to catch and kill before it really took hold. Now, as I sit here and wait for Salvation Army to come pick up a ton of shit, I am finally starting to feel a little tiny bit okay with everything. It is definitely going to be really hard the next few days, but I am starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. And with that, I decided maybe it was a good time to jot down a few reasons to be excited! Read More

no.

.Reading time 2 minutes.

Hey guys! Just a few quick updates here. One, I updated my theme, and I hope you noticed, because you visit SO often. Two, I was thinking back to something I posted about a month ago (That time I decided it was okay to say no.) and the impacts it has had on my life.

If you haven’t done this, I challenge you to try it. When you think you are going with the flow or a group or a crowd or even just societal expectations, say NO. Say no for you, and do whatever the fuck you want to do.

I have really enjoyed this new “No-Saying-Tempest” that I’ve become.

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To be honest, saying no feels good. It feels empowering. I feel like I have finally gotten some of my.. me.. back, if that makes sense. My “no” extravaganza started with ex-flames. If you have read any of my blog, you know at this point that I SUCK at dating and romantic involvement of any kind. I have a couple of guys that I have, over the years, had trouble letting go of. Those were the first to get a no from me. No, I don’t need to pretend to be your friend, I don’t need to be nice to you, I don’t need you, so why say yes and keep something toxic in my life?

The next step was harder…friends. I have held onto a lot of friendships that hurt me too, and it was time to take the step in freeing myself from that. This, honestly, is still a tough one for me, but I know at the end of the day I am taking care of myself and creating boundaries for others to respect.

So again, take some time to figure out what it is in your life that drains you, and start saying no to it. It’s hard, I won’t lie. Especially after a lifetime of conceding to others and trying to compromise, it is very very hard sometimes. But the feeling when you get through to the other side is so amazingly worth it.

 

xoxo, Tempest.

mom.

.Reading time 5 minutes.

When I started this blog, it was meant to be a release for me… a way to get things out and off my chest. For the most part, I’ve done that, but I have been holding off, for one reason or another, on writing about a very important sad hurtful tough emotional subject, which is my mom.

My mom passed away in 2013. I had just turned 27. I had just gotten divorced. I had just watched my mom battle with and eventually lose the battle to cancer. I wasn’t there when my mom passed away, because I lived about 7 hours away. In the days before her passing, my mom was put on hospice, so we knew it would be coming fast. I had planned on coming up that weekend to be with my family, but something in my gut told me to head out early. I was on the road, about 3 hours into my trip, when I got the call from my sister with the news.

The hardest thing about my mother’s death actually wasn’t the part where she left this earth. It was the months and years preceding it that she spent.. leaving. My mom had a rare blood cancer that caused a lot of organ issues, including kidney failure, resulting in the need for a kidney transplant, and bone pain. Patients typically lived 3-5 years. My mom lived survived 8. I can’t say lived, because after a few years, when the pain began to become more than she could deal with, she spent most of her time in bed and on various pain medications. It became hard to deal with the situation and seeing her attitude and personality change.

There are a lot of things that happened in those years that have shaped the person I am today, some good and some bad. I hate that sometimes it is hard to remember the good, because so much of my adult life was spent with the bad. Nevertheless, when things get tough, I can’t help but be reminded of my mom’s spirit and how strong she was for me before she got sick.

My mom had a spirit that couldn’t be tamed. She was the strongest woman I knew for most of my adolescent years, even though she had her faults. She was always ready to face a challenge and find ways to overcome them. As an adult now, I often think back to times in my life when my mom shouldn’t have been able to pull off the things she did. She left home young, got married and had kids young, but still managed to achieve her career goals. When money was tight, she still found ways to give everyone in my family extravagant gifts at Christmas. When her credit should have been shot, she still found a way to keep a roof over our heads. I know it had to be tough and she had to be stressed out, but we never saw that, and she always came out okay.

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It’s been almost 4 years since her passing, but I still find that in certain situations, there is nothing more that I want than to be able to call up my mom and just talk. I hate that in the last few years of her life, I couldn’t always do that, because of the toll her condition and the medication had taken on her, and I wish nothing more than to be able to have those pre-cancer years back.

Right now, I’m going through a huge life change, it is definitely one of those times that I just want to talk to my mom. To ask her, what would you do, what should I do?  To vent about the things that I’m sure my friends are sick of hearing about, but the kind of things that moms never get tired of listening to. To share in my success in my career. To show her I’m working hard to become a woman she would be proud to call her daughter, every single day.

tempest.

PS. If you can call your mom, hug her, tell her that you love her, go ahead and take a moment to do so.

soulmatch.

.Reading time 3 minutes.

index

Let’s talk about soulmates. If you have found this supposed soulmate, hooray! Do not read any further, because I’m only going to piss you off. I don’t think that soulmates are probable. A good dream, yes, but a dream nonetheless. I talked about this over the weekend with my family and we all kind of came to this same conclusion (except my grandma, who decided mine was a boyfriend back in high school for some godawful reason, and oh by the way my aunt’s is her exhusband…**souuuullmatesss**)

Think about for a minute… if there is just ONE person that is made for you, in the ENTIRE WORLD. The whole world, for fuck’s sake. It’s a big world, guys. It’s kind of depressing to consider that there is just one person, that you are somehow magically supposed to find, and everything is magical and everyone lives happily ever after, right? What if your soul mate is someone who lives in a third world country off the grid, how are you supposed to meet them? Life finds a way..? (Yes, read that in Ian Malcolm’s Jurassic Park voice). The other bleak thing about this one-person-is-made-for-you theory is… what about all the people who really really love each other, but maybe.. it’s like a 99% match. Really great but.. not..quite. The soulmate theory means a shitload of people are just hanging out and settling for what is good enough.

I like the idea better, and think it’s much more probable, that instead of this one person we are supposed to find, that there are soul..matches. A soulmatch can be anyone who can just identify with your soul. It doesn’t have to be just one person, either, there could be multiple people, and maybe you’ll come in contact with them… and maybe you won’t. The point is, it’s possible. And it probably would create a lot more happy endings, if instead of trying to find this one unicorn, we find a soulmatch, or maybe multiple soulmatches throughout life, who can understand you for who you are. All your quirks and eccentricies and things that make you you, they can understand, support, and hopefully enrich.

I know at first glance this post seems bitter, but in fact, it’s optimistic. Finding a person in your life who can do this is inspiring, and the idea that it doesn’t have to be locked down to one person living in an igloo somewhere is encouraging. It makes me feel like there is something out there that can work, kind of like my current healthy and successful relationship with pizza. And anything that can rival pizza sounds like a damn good thing.

 

xoxo, Tempest.

 

drained.

.Reading time 4 minutes.

I’ve written a lot about my struggles with romantic relationships on this blog, but lately I’ve also thought about friendships, and how I have let the toxic ones impact me over the years. The same problems that get me in trouble with dating also get me in trouble with friendships, but it usually takes much, much longer for me to realize it. If I’ve invested a lot of time and energy, saying no or stepping away from someone becomes very hard for me, if not damn near impossible.

It’s time to say no. I have to learn to say no to things that are not okay for me.

My problem, you see, is I naturally want to take care of people. This means I tend to seek out romantic partners and friends that probably need to be taken care of in some way. Not calling anyone broken, but I tend to find people that are maybe not whole enough in themselves to be in a functional, healthy relationship themselves. In dating, I find out VERY quickly that my natural tendency to “caretake” won’t be reciprocated (note, I don’t always expect it to be, but you know.. it is nice sometimes damnit). In friendships, however, it can take months or years to find out that some people just don’t care or maybe aren’t worth the investment.

The end result is I spend a lot of time trying to make people happy, and in return I am left drained. 

I’ve talked to my therapist quite a bit about this, and how I can work on determining where to draw my own boundaries. I do have some very great friends, but I have many over the years that I have given my power to, and it’s gotten me hurt. I’ve put my trust in people that I thought would have my back, when all they wanted to do was thrust a knife into it for their own means. Sadly, in a lot of these situations I’ve seen the writing on the wall, but I’m so scared to just say “no” to someone that I still let it happen. I don’t want to look like a bitch, or look selfish, or look like I don’t care about someone that I’m close to. I’ve realized now that although it might hurt to put up these boundaries, and it may be hard for me to say no, it’s going to hurt a whole hell of a lot worse when I inevitably get burned by someone exhibiting these red flags. 

As much as I wish to have the power to do so, I can’t change anyone. All I can change is myself, the amount of myself that I am willing to give to other people, and how I react to situations. I am the writer of my own story, and the only one who gets to say how I live my life is me.

height:asshole.

.Reading time 4 minutes.

If you’ve been reading my blog for a while, you may have read an aside where I mentioned that one of the ways to get to my heart is to be 6’3. If you haven’t been reading my blog for a while, for shame, reader, for shame!! Anyway, I picked 6’3 as a very specific height, and here’s why. I’m 5’10, so you would think I would LOVE a guy who is way super taller than me, like 6’3+. To be honest, I used to. When I met a guy who was 6’5, I would get all giddy, like “Ohemgeeee I get to feel like a little princess like all these short bitches!!” Right?! WRONG.

Here’s the thing about tall guys. Every inch above 6’3, they get an extra asshole point. I’m blanketing this statement…I’m sure there are guys that are very tall and very kind and generous, but the ones I’ve met and dated overall have been pretty strong in the douchebaggery category. Super tall guys think they’re hotter than they are, because they are tall, they get to act like a 9 when in real life they’re barely pushing a 7. Super tall guys think the world has to look up to them and they feel entitled. Super tall guys don’t stop fucking talking about how super tall they are. Yo homie, we can see you! Basically, super tall guys have an aura of being able to treat anyone however they want, because they’re “above you”.

I have said this to tall guys before, usually ones in that safe sub-6’3 zone, and they usually agree, but then point out that shorter guys have the Napoleon complex thing going on. If that is to be believed, that means that all women are basically fucked, because we get either tall assholes or short angry chihuahuas, right? Also wrong. There is definitely a sweet spot, and that sweet spot is 100% accented by character. Guys falling in the average height range seem to have a little more personality, versus guys going into the above average range that start getting cockier by the inch. I can attest to some guys having Napoleon complex in the shorter range, but that’s usually when the extreme lower quartile (5’5 or shorter, in my experience.) With all of this very proven scientific evidence, it is safe to assume the sweet spot probably lies between about 5’6 and about 6’2, give or take. Every inch above 6’3, there is a really good chance you are flirting dangerously with asshole category, and anyone above 6’5, forget it.

All in all, height, while it can be very important, doesn’t outweigh someone’s disposition. I don’t tend to date people shorter than me, not because I judge them at all (you can’t control your height), but because I’m essentially some kind of Amazon woman and I feel humongo in that scenario. However, I would much rather date someone shorter than me than someone who is a complete dick and doesn’t know how to treat other humans.

As a disclaimer, if you’re a tall guy reading this, please don’t be offended, I’m sure there are some good eggs out there. If you’re a tall guy reading this and you are, in fact an asshole, stop. You can still change your ways, and giving a shit about people is way way sexier than just acting like you’re the shit, all the time.

xoxo, Tempest.