Sometimes the Problem is You, Boo-Boo

 Rock Bottom, we have all been there. Always a little bit different, but the reality all the same. You know when the rug is pulled from underneath you? Or rather the curtain fell and now here you're flat on your ass looking at the reflection in the mirror realizing you don't look like hot shit?  Or maybe it's realizing that you are expendable, that you're actually everything you promised yourself you would never be. Whatever it is, we have all been there, I am no different. So, what was Rock Bottom for me? Well, it's Ugly crying, and not like regular crying... I mean snot running down my face with me hyperventilating into a pillow. All while my neighbor gives me yet another dose of hardcore reality. I got played yet again! I disrespected myself yet again! I put myself in danger yet again! But this isn't the first time she has had to serve up this truth. Honestly, the fact she hasn't lost her shit on me yet is amazing. Like I would not fault her at all if one day she doesn't just knock my ass out. Like she is a damn Angel now that I think about it.... I always wanted a Big Sister and what's even funnier is she has always fantasized about having a best friend as a neighbor and here we're. While I'm thankful for her, and all the lessons she has taught me I almost didn't know her. Like okay bitch finish this story because now I'm like how so and why are you telling us this? Well it almost didn't happen because while I am an Extroverted Introvert at times I am generally Introverted. I stay to myself and tend to be really quiet. I have scared countless people when I actually ask for help at the store because they didn't even know I was there. Which now come to think of it might actually be like a superpower like Houdini Bitch! Now you see me, (moves hands in front of face) now you don't! ..... but I'll table that thought. Okay, back to the story, so her and I had been neighbors for 2 years before we even spoke to one another. We would stare at each other from across the fence and occasionally if one of us was ballsy we would wave, but that was the extent. It wasn't until my Sister decided to make the first move and talk and somehow we ended up carrying on with each other and now here we're. She is the older sister I've always wanted and we're the best friends and neighbors she has dreamed of.   I think we all have in our own ways in maybe one or multiple forms of Angels in our lives just trying to help us. And for these people we salute you! It is fair to wonder what this has to do with this post, but I'll just say first just enjoy the ride, and two, we should always appreciate those who actually care and who make vulnerability and growth seem possible. Finally, have I not given you a laugh or two by now? Well just wait there is more. 

I don't know about y'all but sometimes reality needs to slap you in the face. Like at the end of the day it cant be all these guys! The truth of the cookie crumbling was realizing that I was the problem. That my lack of self worth and boundaries is what was thriving and ultimately leading a path of destruction. The repetition would leave me a little bit more broken then the last time. And as fucked up as it is a little more hopeful next time it be different. But the formula never changed, just the name. Like somehow I thought it I was good enough sexually they would keep me, or see me for more than my poontang. Like as thought they would think, "Damn! She has some Bomb Ass WAP, imma date her." It is honestly thee most embarrassing and yet raw part of my life thus far that I can tell you about. Chugga Chugga Chugga Chugga Pitty Party! I'd have them all the time sounding like a broken record and I'm sure a nail on the chalkboard to my neighbor. Crying over yet another guy who really just took the candy and ate till he got tired of it. Because who doesn't like free candy?  I was a walking holiday, a chewed up piece of gum, a living Halloween.  But the guys weren't the ones wearing the mask, I was. A mask of secret expectations and wants. How could I expect anything to be different when I wasn't? Sure they were using me, but I was also using them. Now to be completely clear, I have never once lied about what my intentions were. I have always adamantly stated I was looking for a relationship and wanted to get to know someone and grow with them into a relationship. Like I know that shit doesn't grow on tree! It doesn't  happen over night. And it sure as hell doesn't happen one sided. So you're probably like okay... so how were you wearing a mask? Well my dumbass would state this and yet when they would tell me inevitably what they wanted in a partner, id try so hard to be that. To fit that mold, to be something they would want long-term, as if I wasn't already a MOTHERFUCKING VERSATILE GEM OF A HUMAN! I was always worried about pleasing them and being what they wanted that I forgot that my wants mattered too. 

Attention for me is like a drug. So intoxicating leaving me craving for more even if subtle. It is also such a strange concept for me as well. Because I've never been one to receive a lot of it. Not from lack of parents trying or anything like that. But I think it narrows down to being that girl that was never anyone's first choice. Whether it have been in playing a game on the blacktop, or being asked to go to the dance. Or maybe it was when I realized that my body was an attraction. At a young age I developed and when I say developed, I mean my chest is a damn eye catcher. I even did an experiment, and my boobs actually enter the room before I do. So there is the context for this. Anyone who ever seen me without a hoodie on would gawk at me. It would be safe to say Hoodies were my best friend, had me over here looking like that guy from Mean Girls. You know the one I'm talking about, "She doesn't even go here!" That line still makes me cackle. Nevertheless, eventually that hoodie would have to come off and I became a walking billboard. Maybe it be as simple as including me on a funny joke, or maybe it be allowing me to join the table discussion.   Whatever it was, that little attention would do something for me. Because for the first time I felt like I was accepted. Like I was good enough. And if that isn't such a fucked up notion, I don't what is. But unfortunately this would follow me into adulthood. A short while ago I would experience yet another relationship fail. Well to be clear was never actually a relationship, more of like a weird hangout phase. I thought he was so handsome, and unique. We would talk everyday and he was always so attentive. Made it a point to make me feel special. Anyways, so here I am getting to know this guy and thinking it is all going good and then BAM! There is that bitch, ANXIETY, and now here I am asking the fateful question. This question is like the Hail Mary if you want to scare a guy off and this time would prove no different.  A question so simple yet so delicate like a ticking time bomb, " So do you actually like me, or just having sex?" Like if you could draw this man as a cartoon, he would be Speedy Gonzales, because his ass went flying outta there.  And to bare all in vulnerability it does hurt, but the honest truth was I was just the flavor of the month for him. And realistically now the most I see of him is on a post or when he pops up in a notification with a like. It be easy to be spiteful and say he uses likes as a vengeance, but I can't be. I am not that person. I don't have the heart to be as ugly and cold as people and the world can be. No matter how much hurt I have experienced, I do not try to bleed on other people. In fact, if I could absorb it all I would. Because the idea of anyone feeling the way I have cripples me. While I love this part of me, it is also something I wrestle with. Because in the end I always seem to find people who say they want love, they want a relationship, or settle down but it's never with me. I will see red flags and for some idea my brain decides, you know what, let me give them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe all's they need is one person to give them that. But in the end, it has always ended the same. Because being funny and kind can only get you so far. However, he was a lesson and I will say I hope he finds whatever makes him happy. It be easy to blame him or hate on him but he wasn't the problem.  He wasn't the solution either, but he definitely was not the problem.

The real problem here was I didn't chose myself, so how could I expect anyone else too? Like If I don't even accept all of me how could anyone else? Now let me be honest, this is something I struggle with to this day. Self Love is always a work in progress, it is a choice to love yourself everyday. There are days I wake up and I feel ugly. Like my belly is pudgy, I have a big head and nose. A family trait but nonetheless. Some days I wonder how anyone could ever want someone like me, riddled with anxiety and blah blah blah. The list goes on and it is utter BULLSHIT! To fight your inner thoughts everyday because that is really your biggest adversary is an act of REBLLION! And it makes you a certified BADASS! It is the act of telling each and every lie you have ever been told or thought to go FUCK OFF! It is remembering that I am worthy of love! That I deserve someone who will love and respect me for me. But most of all, it is me remembering that I deserve the love and grace I so freely give to people. I am beautifully flawed, riddled with anxiety, sprinkled with corky humor and dripping in love. I have good days, and I have bad days that drain me emotionally and you know what? Even on those bad days where my anxiety gets the best of me, I'm still worthy of love and respect. I am the Writer and Narrator of my life, so damn it, I'm going to write my future and be better for my damn self! And it be easy to sugar coat this and tell you that with this proclamation that all my struggles are gone, but I'd be lying. Like my ass might actually catch on fire! Because ya girl Anxiety, she is a bitch! So I will say that I will practice giving myself grace and working to be kinder to myself the next time. 

Perfection is never something I strive for. I think it be safe to say it is the Artist in me that realizes that Art is never fully complete. There is always something more you can do, another technique to try, a little more of a color. Like this, I am a constant work in progress. And that is something I am more than okay with. Yes, there is room for self improvement, for more growth, for more of me. There is room to become a greater writer. Room to be a kinder person. Definitely room to have more grace. A large canvas for Self -Love. A  palette for more healthy boundaries. Simply, there is room because I'm not finished growing and I never will be. Because as life goes on I will grow with it. My colors will sharpen, and my definition will be more refined. My background will evolve and my canvas will stretch wider. In closing, I'm the artist of my own Masterpiece and DAMN IT, I'm going to make it mine!