Expectaion Junkie in Recovery.

kanyeBeing an only child I had to go out into the world and find people to love. I was blessed with my fair share of cousins, and grew up nestled in-between a group that felt like the best kind of siblings, because they went home.

I enjoyed being any only child. Being alone has always been one of my favorite past times. I am my favorite person, and I mean that when I say it.  You have to be something pretty special to drag me out of my house, away from a night with my mind, a pen, and my bed.

Making friends has never really been my thing.

My first time at bat with non-relatives was school, and I was the class cow to a group of girls who had no idea how adorable, sweet, and funny I was. Thankfully I started sixth grade and they had all gone to public school. #thankyoulordbabyjesus

I am always (minus the year I sold my soul to the devil, and was the most popular girl in my  8th grade class, mostly because I was a touch on the hoe side, and probably when I was in the clique at Old Navy)  I have always been pretty outcasty.

I have found many beautiful people to love me along the way. I have a few people still in my life who have loved me since I was stealing boyfriends, and eating Taco Bell on a reg. I have so many people I am beyond words grateful to have loved, even if I don’t know them anymore.

I have high standards, an old boyfriend told me they were too high once, but I like to set the bar as high as I possibly can, and I don’t mind all the falling down anymore.  It took me a long time to not mind the feelings of unmet expectations in others. it took me a long time to even see it was MY problem, not these unsuspecting people I wanted to love me.

Heartbreak only come when I stay focused on trying to fit someone, or something in that does not fit where I am trying to put it, no matter how much I try to steer this ship, God has entirely different ideas.

I know that to get happy there has to be this brutal level of honesty that has to cause earthquakes without drama. It has to shake everything I thought I knew to the ground. I have to watch it all fall apart, and I cannot lose my shit. Not for longer than it takes to shove the last handful of chips in my mouth to fill up these holes I cannot get to stop screaming.

I have left places shaking and sobbing, I have felt heartbroken, I have envisioned American History X curb style injuries, and throats ripped out, and there it is, thudding behind my third eye, this reminder to breathe, and stop acting like I know anything at all. The not so gentle psychosomatic symptoms to just let shit be what it is.

I have met lots of people I don’t like at all, I have loved  people a lot, and figured out I don’t like them anymore.

The key to it all, is forgiveness. For myself for changing, for them for not being what I wanted, and for courage to keep showing up, leaving space, and not turning into a wounded ego monster.

It has got to be ok to have MY own preferences in people, music, food, color palette, and those preferences do not mean that what I don’t like is wrong -it just means it is not for me.

Somehow walking away from things, or people, even if they aren’t right is stupid hard.  I hate leaving people out, or behind. I hate making people feel bad, because really, I just want the world to see the sparkles. I make myself small to feed peoples egos, I fuel my own ego by painting situations in drama.

I am learning to  be very honest about what I need from the people in my life, I am holding my boundaries firm, with love. I am learning that it is not my job to explain myself to people. They will either get me, or they won’t, but I am just going to keep being myself.

It is hard to stay honest in a world that loves everything to be fake.

I love fake things myself, orange hostess cupcakes, fake boobs, fake hair- I am an American after all.

I am over weaving this artificiality into my relationships, and experiences, not my eyelashes.

I want real love, and mermaid hair.

Remember glitter muffins, if you want to change the world, change yourself first.


On Key

Related Posts

marriage goals

My Marriage is Pretty Special.

My Marriage is pretty special. It always was something special, but before I lived Astrology I would get so mad at my husband for things

this girl talks wrestling

WWE Night Of Champions

 This is a This Girl Talks Wrestling Post about WWE Night of Champions WWE Night of champions should show the fans of WWE we are back

we've all got ghosts.

We’ve all got Ghosts

We’ve all got Ghosts. Ghosts linger in our energetic atmosphere, and not the kind that need salt and iron to banish. In reality all these

Healing is a Buzz Word that Sucks.

Healing is a buzz word that sucks.  Our human journeys are plagued with invitations to “heal” You ever notice that? Crystal healing, Energy Healing, Healing

that mom life

That Mom Life

This May something monumental is happening in That Mom life for me. My OG baby is no longer going to be a homeschooler. Heading off