Tag: postaweek

here’s a post that is about me, and not boys.

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Okay, it’s maybe a little about boys. Well.. relationships, as always.

I’ve been doing okay with the whole dating thing. I met a guy who actually seems like a really good guy, which I feel like was getting tough and making me extremely bitter towards the whole dating scene. Great, right? Wrong! Have you met me?! I am the queen of overthinking everything, and I can break things so very easily. Sometimes, I even break them on purpose. I’ve mentioned before that I like to push people away. It’s like pushing a glass vase off of a shelf to see if it breaks. Guess what… it does! And then you’re all pissed off because you had this lovely glass vase and now, gone. Shattered. Kaput. 

Anyway, I haven’t done this yet with this one, but I have noticed something that I thought was worth writing about.

When my walls come down, theirs go up. I think this is because I start any relationship EXTREMELY guarded, and when I start letting someone in, they get this full 100% blast of Tempest that they maybe didn’t expect and certainly weren’t prepared for. Hence: walls. Like oh shit, this girl has a super strong personality and I don’t know how to human anymore! (They probably aren’t thinking that, but you get the gist…)

The new challenge I am now facing is how do I let enough of my true self shine through in the beginning, without feeling vulnerable and afraid to peek over my very well built and well maintained walls. In theory, I should start breaking some of them down. I know this. But guys, I have worked a LONG time on building these bitches up, the idea of tearing them down is terrifying.

Or could it be that I just haven’t met the right person that can handle the me that is scared, and hides, and is afraid to love, but also the me who is passionate, and brave, and over the top? Can I be allowed to have my walls sometimes, but still have someone see me as me? Is that a thing?

Until next time!

XOXO, Tempest.

you’re like, 12.

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…another one bites the dust.

I’m seriously, VERY..VERY close to getting myself to a nunnery. This dating shit is insanely terrible! The next one isn’t too bad, but, ugh. Read on.

This happens to be the most recent guy that I cut off. This guy, codename “Perv,” was extremely cute… except for this stupid goddamn earring. Like, really really cute..butttt also maybe a douche. But, because I thought he was cute and fun, I tried to overlook a lot of stuff. Until..ugh, I just couldn’t anymore. I’m sure you’re wondering, how did this guy get the name Perv? Letttt me just tell you.

This guy, at 33, had responses to general conversation that went something like this:

Tempest: Hey, just got done with hot yoga!

Perv: Oh, I bet you are soaking wet.

Or…

Tempest: Sorry I’ve been quiet, crazy busy at work today.. working on a new project.

Perv: I have a project you can work on.

 

And so on, and so on.

The strange thing is, this guy was completely normal in person. Funny, maybe even charming, did I mention cute? Very cute. But sweet baby Jesus, I felt like I was talking to a prepubescent teenager half of the time.

The other warning signs? If this guy wasn’t making an inappropriate sex joke, he couldn’t take any joke. I tried joking with him several times, and he would make a passive aggressive or condescending comment. Granted, this was via text, so I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, but it got so bad once that I actually called him to clear things up because he responded in such a shitty way. But really, are you 12?

The straw that broke the camels back… apparently homeboy had a little bit of a drinking tendency. Every time I talked to him, he was on the way to the bar, or hungover, or starting to drink again early on. I am not one to judge anyone’s personal preferences, but you are in your 30’s, and it may be time to give that party life a break. What really did it in was when he chose to start his evening at a bar… an evening we were supposed to be meeting up. Instead of going home and changing out of his grungy construction clothes, he was “forced” into going to a bar, and therefore would be late to meet up with me. Yeah no.

By the way, when I told him I wasn’t going to meet up, he proceeded to tell me how put off he was that I decided not to meet up because he had gone out.

Really? Really dude? Do you honestly think that it’s okay to be late for a date because you needed to stop and get a drink?

Nah son. Cheers, I’m out.

getting a little shifty..

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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.

push.

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Ok…well, I have been complete shit at writing lately, so I’ll give you guys a deep one today.

Over the past year or so, I’ve done a lot of self-exploration and been very honest with myself about some of my own shortcomings. Sometimes brutally honest, which is a little tough, but it does feel good to have these self realizations.

One of the things I’ve realized about myself that I have been completely unable to work on is my constant desire to push people away. It’s a natural reaction for me, and happens almost as soon as I start feeling like I like someone. I even do it to friends. Sometimes I think that maybe this comes from losing my mom, and wanting to push people away to protect myself, but sometimes I also think it’s just because I want to prove that people will leave me. It’s like some fucked up version of psychological torture and self sabotage. But, as much as I hate it, I still do it.

The really shitty thing is.. I even know when I’m doing it, and I can’t even stop in most cases. I will pick a fight, push, do whatever I need to do to give someone an “out,” and then act upset when they actually take it. Like no shit they’re gonna bounce, I’m fuckin nuts sometimes!

I don’t want to continue doing this, and I know in order to stop I really need to get to the root of why I do this. I don’t want to be alone, I want to have people there for me, but I have to find out how to open up and let them be there. By the way, if anyone has any ideas or pointers, please feel free to share 🙂

So, over the next several months, I am going to be focusing on not pushing people out, and just being open and not trying to give someone a reason to need an out. I mean all things aside, I am pretty strong and badass 99% of the time, even with my flaws.

xoxo, Tempest.

 

flagged.

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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.

 

 

tempest.

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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.

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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.

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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

mom.

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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.

IMG_8828

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.

fear.

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I’m officially the worst post-a-weeker there ever was. I have not been writing very much lately because, well, I have had a ton of shit going on. Some major life changes, scary shit type of shit.

The good news: I got a REALLY great promotion at work. As in, the kind of stuff I love doing.. project management, lots of partnership, communication.. all the things I want in a job. It’s on a great team and reports to a great boss.

The bad news: it’s in New Jersey.

Now before you get all huffy about how bad New Jersey is… I worked up there for a few weeks this year and while it didn’t completely grow on me, I realized I could live there. It’s not bad, at least in the area I will be in when I relocate. Yes, it’s more expensive in general than Georgia, yes, it snows. But overall, I like the Northeast, I get to leave the fiery gates of hell they call “summer” in the South, I’m the same distance to my family in Virginia, and I’ll be doing what I love.

Also, I think I’m at least 10% hotter in the north, but I digress.

Leaving Atlanta is very scary, because I’ve made some great friends and memories during my time here. Going to a new place is equally scary, although I do already have some friends there. Finding a place is stressing me the fuck out. This is primarily the reason that I haven’t written lately, because I literally cannot tear myself away from Zillow, Trulia, Forrent.com, Hotpads, and any other rental finding website you can think of. I. Am. Obsessed. 

I’ve written about my anxiety before, and this plays a big part in it. Not knowing where I’m going to live is causing me major feelings of panic right now. I also live in a house full of people right now, and will be venturing out of the nest and into my own home for the first time in a while. So, more bills, yay!

Also, the whole thought of moving is just ridiculous. I do have help with the moving itself, but sweet baby Jesus I’ve collected a lot of stuff over the years. Going through all of the odds and ends is just daunting.. I am tempted to start fresh and burn the rest.

moving-was-a-great-idea-until-i-started-packing-2ec10

Anyway, I’ll be making the trip up this weekend to try to find a suitable place to live. Hopefully, once that is done I can get to the fun stuff..like..decorating! And working my ass off in a new job!

Until next time, xoxo..Tempest.