the freedom cage.

I’ve been terrible at posting. I keep thinking of all of the things that I need to say, and sometimes it just takes me a while to get my head around them enough to put my thoughts into words.

A few updates, and then a few thoughts on something that has been on my mind lately: how easy it is to become caged by freedom.

So, on dating. I will have a new post soon about someone I met recently. Yes, this person deserves their very own post. But for any consistent readers, everyone referenced in Chapter 47 is long gone. And that definitely includes Prince Eric, who turned out to be quite the asshole. I can’t say that I’m surprised, and thank god that infatuation is over.

What else is new… I got a promotion at work! I feel like quite the badass for being promoted within a year. It makes it feel so worth it to have made the move and made such a big change in my life. Onward and upward!

One of the things that I have cherished in my adult life is the ability to have the freedom to do what I want. Things like uprooting and moving to a new state and starting a new chapter, without having to answer to anyone. But sometimes, I think we can become caged by our freedom.

I think this has happened to me to an extent, and it has definitely impacted who I am. I have focused so much on being free and living a full life that I design, that I’ve subsequently kept people and relationships at arm’s length. It’s only recently that I’ve realized how imprisoning freedom can actually be. Yes, I can pick up and start over at any point, because it’s just me. But at the same time, it’s just me. Staying in the same place through life allows you to build substantial long term relationships, and I haven’t done that. I’ve moved every few years and started over.

On one hand, it’s exhilarating to be able to start anew. You can rebuild who you are. You can learn new experiences. You can challenge yourself to do things you’ve never done before. You can surprise yourself by achieving things that seem so out of reach to so many people. On the other, it’s terrifying. It causes you to isolate yourself. Trust only yourself. Feel alone and like you only have yourself to rely on.

I’m at a point now where I want to be able to really start settling in my life, and stop constantly hunting for this idea of freedom. I want to surround myself with people who challenge me, instead of just putting myself into challenging situations. I want to do the things I’ve never done before by discovering new depths within myself, instead of discovering a new area code. I want to learn to let my guard down and share my achievements with people who care about me.

I will not say that some of these things don’t already happen, because they absolutely do. I am lucky to have a few very good friends and people in my life. I just know that this is something that I can improve on. I can be a stronger, better me by learning to let myself live in a way that doesn’t require me to always seek a new challenge. That’s what is interesting about the idea of escaping the freedom cage. Maybe letting go of the idea of chasing freedom will be the most freeing thing I experience.

Until next time!




Fact: nothing lasts forever.  Right?

I recently watched a movie that talked about impermanence, which is essentially the fact that the only thing constant is change. This is something that everyone more or less knows to be true. It’s something we have always known our entire lives… things will always change.  So how does one find happiness through the change?

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getting a little shifty..

I’m writing this from a train, because per C, there is something very literary about writing on a train and I figured I would own it and let the power of the train fuel my creative juices (or something whimsical like that?)

I am coming out of the slump I have been in for the past couple of weeks. The bitterness has definitely subsided and I’m coming to terms with a few things. I’ve also entered a bit of a paradigm shift when it comes to dating.. as in, I’m back off of it for the goal of dating. Hmm.. Let me talk about these things in order before I ramble too much.

The Attack of the Blues:
Moving across the country at 30 years old is REALLY hard. Like, legitimately really hard. It’s emotionally traumatic. I don’t use the word traumatic lightly, if that tells you anything.

I realize a lot of people do this, and I myself have moved several times in my life, but I’ve always had some type of a buffer that I didn’t have on this move. My first “big” move was moving away for college, which I went with my high school best friend and then roommate. The second time was with my ex husband for his job. The third time was leaving my ex husband, so I literally couldn’t get away fast enough, and I also was moving in with a good friend which lessened the blow of moving to a brand new place.

This time, though… this time. I moved for work, and while I do have an amazing job… work is not all that it takes to fulfill you. I know this, and I knew this going in. As much as I was aware of the facts, however, I am also extremely impatient. I am not good at waiting for things to come together… I would much rather them simply fall into place. When they inevitably didn’t, I got more and more frustrated with my situation.

Here’s where this gets a little tougher. I pride myself on my ability to connect with people, and I LOVE being around people. When I enter any kind of slump or get bluesy.. two things happen. 1. I lose my amazing personality and ability to connect, and 2. I push people away  (see: push and you’ll find out exactly what I mean). The end result? I’m lonely and grumpy and sad. Blech. Life can really be a bitch sometimes, amirite?

I decided to do something about it. And I thought. A lot. Which led to…

The Comeback!:

I have realized over the past 4 weeks of being lonely, stressed, sad, disorganized, and a general emotional wreck that I am exceptionally terrible at taking care of my self. Okay, okay… I know I’ve maybe mentioned this before (read: no)… I am a caretaker of others, and I do tend to ignore myself and my needs. But this alone time has really shown me just how much I do that. When the option to take care of others was removed.. I was forced to look at what I do for myself. Which, as it turns out, is very little.

So, I started.

I started to hold myself accountable to doing the things that I want to do.

I started pushing myself outside of my boundaries. I put myself in situations I wouldn’t be comfortable with to meet new friends. I went to a new yoga class. I joined a book club. I put my phone away and read for hours, with no social media or texting to interrupt me. I took myself to the movies (truth be told, I’ve always done that, but hey, it counts).

What I’ve learned through this is my personal obligations for myself are just as important, if not more important, as they are to anyone else. I can take care of me, and doing that feels really good.


With all that said, this comeback is still 100% a work in progress. I have a lot of growing to do before I really can say I completely have my shit together. I’m moving in the right direction though, and that can only mean good things.

xoxo, Tempest.

I think she was afraid to love sometimes. I think it scared her. She was the type to like things that were concrete, like the ocean. Something you could point to and know what it was. I think that’s why she struggled with love. She couldn’t touch it. She couldn’t hold on to it and make sure it never changed.


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.