self-love sunday: some rambles (it’s been a long week)

sleepy, per usual.

(san francisco at sun down, the other day)

my nocturnal clock is off. (or: i stayed up too late drinking whiskey in honor of st. patrick’s day but mainly in honor of one of my best friend’s birthdays).

this week has been weird. light and heavy in all moments, together. sluggish, too. i’ve spent a lot of time observing my emotions, feeling them out. simply a quiet week, peppered with overwhelming, abundant moments too intricate to explain. the best way to describe it: i am reentering consciousness.

the world looks like ireland outside my window. earlier this week fog ate into the tops of mountains, obscuring them. now clouds mix with blue sky i missed. everything is green. save for the one tree, defiant in holding yellow. i’m contemplating a cup of coffee. i’m thinking, in general.

i miss my friends. i miss sitting around smoking bowls and talking, talking, talking. i miss the closeness. i miss the connection. i miss knowing they’ll always be there. most days i keep the company of an empty house and an over-active mind. often my irrationality tells me i am slipping from friends’ consciousnesses. often i believe it. deep down i question my importance. my therapist tells me i am co-dependant and i can’t disagree. i’m still learning to appreciate my self, still searching for such self-acceptance and self-love in other people. still measuring my self-worth in the number of phone calls and texts and tips-of-the-hat i receive each week. it’s like this: fun things happen and i’ll find out about them later via stories, laugh and wonder why i am not helping tell them instead. wonder where invitations disappear to. wonder why i care.

frequently i wonder, too, “will i ever be settled?”

i think i know the answer. (i know — zoe, stop. we know. weknowweknowweknow. these thoughts are real, though. they’re not arbitrary. they’re as real as your fear of the dark or your fear of heights. let me feel. let me explore. let me process and progress as slowly as i need to. sit on your judgement because i am not judging you and your process.)

my heart feels sealed off. frozen in uncertainty, sadness, self-loathing and overwhelm. there are truths there, buried deep and fully-alive though only half-recognized. the me i want to be, the me i am, the me i see, will not come out. she’s rooted. stuck. available to only one or two people in my life.

i crave intimacy and authenticity like i do chocolate and cake and brussel sprouts (lack of such things in my life are some of the main reasons my eating disorder lives). times exist where i sit in the company of someone i love and we stumble into an opening, an invitation to speak, to pour my self out. words warm in my chest, bubble up to my throat, roll out onto my tongue, ready. i think, “this is it! it’s time! say it, say it, say it!” but i rarely do. instead i’ll swallow those truths back, slide them past my beating heart and into their caves where they’ll strip off their armor and wait for the next moment to be brave. it hurts every time.

someone told me recently, “you can’t hold all of that inside“. oh, but i do. i’m not good at asking for what i need. what i need feels like too much. so my quietness becomes my way of screaming. “i’m fine” is the biggest lie i’ve ever told.

possibly the craziest part of this crazy is this: i know my real friends love me deeply and unconditionally. i am the one who chooses to not understand, to not grasp fully what that type of love means. i am the one who nods in agreement on the outside while simultaneously rejecting any iota of love on the inside. i recognize i am generally the one keeping myself trapped and bound by fear.

my insides are all messed up. i will always be cleaning house.

i’ve frustrated and hurt a lot of people because of this persistant sadness i can’t quite figure out. i’m afraid that’s only helped distance me from my friends and my friends from me. i’ve let it swallow me entirely, isolate me fully. i’ve let it infiltrate all relationships. i feel like i’ve let a lot of people down, myself included. so it’s no surprise, really, that i struggle to talk to people. no one really knows me, truly. i won’t let them. because i fear losing everyone.

talk about irrational fears.

the good news (yes, there is some) is this: despite my negative rambling, i am getting better. i am opening up. i am slowly, slowly, shedding my fear of abandonment. the more i talk, the more i release. it’s a practice. kind of like strengthening a muscle. work it a little bit, watch it grow stronger.

i’m not sure when i will be able to separate my self-worth from my friendships but i am hopeful one day it will happen. i am hopeful one day i will see myself as my friends see me — as a whole person, not only flaws. i am hopeful one day i will freely ask for what i need without fearing judgement and complete rejection. i am hopeful one day i will be myself without apology, without wanting to be anyone else. i am hopeful that, one day, i will be okay.

this is my process.

namaste

zoe

(p.s: i wrote this in pieces this week, while floating in a weird, weird mood. today i woke up in much brighter spirits. i blame the whiskey fest and the company of one of my best friends, one i never feel shaky or questionable in front of. that and the sun is back after a week of straight rain. and i’m going on a hike!!)

self-love sunday: explain yourself

i lost my shit on friday.

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i woke up light and lovey. calm and steady. i am due for a new pair of pants so i hauled my butt to the mall (mistake one). before i tried anything on i took a few deep breaths. i spoke to myself sweetly, said, “zoe, it doesn’t matter what size you pick up. it doesn’t mean anything.” then i picked out two pants and two dresses and took them to the dressing room (mistake two). and promptly lost my shit.

my restless, egocentric mind went insane. stole the moment to unleash hurtful thoughts. i cried and cried. i cried myself all the way to my friend’s house, where i held it together for, oh, three minutes before unravelling all over. tears did not stop. neither did the questions, the “zoe-what’s-wrong’s”. i got a lot of “it’s just clothes” type comments too. those types of comments set my anger off. because no, it’s not “just about clothes”.

i sat on that frustration for a while. until i realized:

if i ever expect anyone to understand what i am dealing with, i need to open up my mouth and my heart and explain the details.

i cannot keep complaining about how alone i am when i make no effort to let anyone understand.

friends who do not grapple with body-image issues as deeply as i do simply do not understand how clothes shopping can spark a melt-down. it’s like trying to have someone who doesn’t understand drug addiction try and understand it. to them it seems simple. “just stay away from the drugs! just don’t do it!” is the answer to them. when, obviously, it goes much deeper than a physical addition.

while we cooked dinner i brought it up. i said, “i need you to understand this isn’t just about clothes. this isn’t trivial, this isn’t superficial.” i filled her in. i opened up. i explained myself. and, you know, it turned out to be relatively easy, asking for what i needed: understanding.

i know sharing the inner workings of your mind and heart serves up vulnerability you might not think you can swallow. but know this too: your friends love you. they want to help you. there is no judgement there. just another heart wanting to know what makes yours beat, in all the best ways and all the worst ways. responses like, “it’s just about clothes” are your friends ways of not lessening your situation, but of trying to understand. if friends show frustration, know it comes out of exasperated love for you, because they don’t understand how you don’t see the beautiful, amazing person standing in front of them.

after we spoke, i felt lighter. less scared. not embarrassed. everyone deals with issues. these just happen to be mine. they’re weird, they don’t make sense, but.

there is no reason i need to hide in their shadows, trembling with shame.

namaste

zoe

self-love sunday

before i start a recap of sorts:

(flowers on a walk the other day)

today my little brother turns eighteen.

kind of like cinderella pulling her whole transformation, my brother is an adult now (though not in a dress and carriage-made-from-pumpkin), suddenly. an adult. like, legal. which is weird because i remember when he was born, how little he was in my own little arms.

to commemorate the occasion, i am making chili bread bowls, per his request. and cake. because birthdays are not birthdays without cake in my eyes.

yup.

anyway.

so, i am working on friendships. on connecting and reconnecting with people who truly, deeply matter. often times we chase friendships or people who clearly show no interest in slowing their retreat. we wonder, “why am i left behind?” while the solids in our lives trail us, wondering “why doesn’t she turn around?”.

confession: i am a die-hard chaser.

i pour attention and affection into friendships my intuition chirps are “one sided”. i did it in early friendships. i did it in high school. i did it in college. i do it now. worrying about how i stand in the lives of part-time friends prompts the burn of anxiety. of loneliness. of depression. it also hurts the real friendships i have, as those true sources of joy distance themselves, shaking their heads at my breathless game of catch and release.

slowly i am understanding the need to balance the energy i put into relationships, including the one i hold with myself. i cannot give away my reserves so quickly, so willingly, so entirely to people.

i spent a lot of time with old friends this week (ones from college and one from high school). i noticed the goofy ultra-dork reemerging. easily and naturally. there was never a sense of “am i good enough?“, only “god i missed this”. i did not experience a need to be anyone other than the person i am, to prove something my mind made up. there was no judgement. no anxiety. just a lot of laughter.

i know i am never alone. i know a lot of the time i think myself into a space for one and tell myself no one cares (not true). i am getting there, though. realizing i make myself alone when i concentrate on those part-time friends, when i forget all those beautiful people in my life who are, always, open and willing to embrace me when i need it the most, not when it suits their schedules.

do you ever find yourself worrying over relationships that bring you more unease than ease?

namaste

zoe

(p.s: did any of that make sense? i feel like that was a bunch of word-vomit.)

self-love sunday: love isn’t conditional

i wrote something the other day.

(source)
about a friend and a conversation.
about a friend and gratitude.

i keep thinking about it.

specifically:

the people who love me most are the people i hurt the most.

because i do. i take for granted the love. the support. the affection and attention. i choose to mis-interpret, to build dramas founded on whimsical thoughts.

to be honest:

i think i am a shitty friend (and daughter. and occasional lover).

i think i tarnished a lot of relationships because i tested people. i tested their capacity to love me. i asked for love without ever actually asking for it. and i always got it. overwhelming amounts of the stuff. i got love so deep i got scared.

i distrusted the relationships i held with people because i never thought beautiful, honest, forgiving, loving relationships existed for me. i thought they might go away. that they were conditional. that i needed to be someone else first. because of lessons learned in horrible, no good relationships. consequently, i’ve strained relationships where nothing but love ever existed. i was the only suspicious one. i tested the boundaries of my friendships to test the extent of other’s love for me.

for that i am regretful.

for that i am embarrassed.

for that i am apologetic.

but.

i know now:

love exists for me.

real, unconditional love.

right now.

and, you know, it’s okay for me to take it.

it’s okay for me to express my love for others, to not always expect some back. it doesn’t mean i am any less seen, any less loved. no one is out to get me. i can drop my suspicions. i can trust. i can believe in the relationships in my life. i can believe in myself.

enough to end the silent investigations.
enough to be content with what was shared if a relationship fades.
enough to soften, to accept what is without over thinking.

enough to simply be.

namaste

zoe

self-love sunday: vulnerability

i am introspective by nature.

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(warning: rambling ahead.)

every day i sort through thoughts, sift through the clutter i hoard up there. sometimes, the things i manage to wiggle free strike a nerve. they’ll sink into my conscious and refuse to budge until i methodically mull over them. the other day, a heavy thought dropped itself into view.

i am, nearly every day, working towards alleviating the acidic burn left by my issues. i am working on awareness, mindfulness, patience, and forgiveness. i am working on remembering life is a conscious practice. yet, occasionally, i fumble over a more difficult discovery in my mind. the negative voice creeps in, quickly, often quietly, and always relentlessly.

the other day it occurred to me how immature i feel in regards to relationships. i know how to like some one. i know how to attract some one. however, the moment friendly flirtations take a more serious turn, i clam up. i look for reasons to work myself out of a potentially intimate connection. i tell myself things like “they don’t really like me.”

why?

one word: vulnerability.

the potential of allowing someone to see me completely, as a person and as a body, terrifies me. i am bad at relationships, too, because i am immobilized by the potential of heartache. the potential. i refuse to see what a relationship offers (the opportunity for growth, the opportunity for sharing, the opportunity to love and be loved) and instead choose to dwell on all the negative aspects (like the possibility of someone losing interest, the possibility of someone discovering my body, the possibility of being cheated on…again).

an example (or two):

i mentioned recently someone touched the parts of me i rage against the hardest (my midsection, in its entirety). what i neglected to mention was my reaction. specifically my mental reaction. i thought, “well, he discovered my secret” (as in, he found out about my horrible bits). after that i thought, “wow, he’s still here.”

i am afraid of gaining something wonderful and losing it because i am not enough. i am afraid of jealousy, possessiveness, and negativity spurred by my insecurity. i know in order to be in a healthy, honest relationship, i need to soften, to be open to change, to positivity, to love. i know that, for a relationship to function properly, i need to be able to trust myself, to believe i am enough for someone, to believe in the beauty of my character and my beauty in general. i need to not shut down and retreat into the safety zone of loneliness i know too well.

i am so ready to grow. yet, i feel i am bad at relationships because i can’t even maintain a healthy one with myself. i wonder how i expect myself to be open to vulnerability when i am way too lightening quick to cut myself down, when i instinctively talk myself into believing the person i am attracted to won’t be attracted to me because peoples a, b, and c possess so much more than me.

the only consolation i can offer myself right now is the fact that i am aware (though, sometimes i think i am all too aware – another ramble for another day). i am mindful of my brain’s immediate instincts. i am attempting to breathe through tough thoughts spat at me by my negative self, kind of like breathing through a mind contraction of sorts: i know it will be painful to experience but i know it will pass.

the time for change is now. i feel consistently, constantly, the hand of the universe on my back, gently encouraging me forward, even while my heels dig in. old ways of thinking, being, and existing shed themselves from me daily and nightly, flutter away on the gusts of wind only change blows. with new foundations forming beneath my feet, i stand, feeling naked and half-new. i am exposed in this rebirth, raw and uncertain.

i am scared.

but i am ready.

honestly though, you’re never really prepared for anything. the time for change is always now. new beginnings start every moment. it’s just a matter of being willing to receive them. it’s a matter of surrendering to your vulnerability and realizing that, in all actuality, you will be just fine.

definitely still learning. definitely.

namaste

zoe

want to hear a funny story?

yesterday, something funny happened.

a coworker relayed to me a phone number given to him by a customer…

…for me.

and now i have a date for next week with a customer who apparently liked me enough to leave behind his number for me.

i think a lot of the time we forget how captivating we are. i think we doubt our allure (inner and outer). i think we feel more comfortable believing the negative things we’ve told ourselves for years (like “i’m too fat for anyone” or “i’m so boring and unimportant”). what a waste! you’re brighter than you let yourself shine. other people notice during the moments you open up. you never know who might be watching or listening.

on a more personal level, i think gaining weight has been the best god damned thing that has happened to me this year. it sounds crazy, but losing my societally acceptable “thin” body lead me to a deep sense of self. it allowed me to break free from the cultural myths and ideas keeping me trapped inside a life of misery. with weight came a new set of truths, ones that allowed me to form a new foundation of worth, one that had nothing to do with what i looked like. through loss of body confidence, i gained self confidence. i started to see myself through the eyes of other people, to listen, really listen, to things they told me about me. better yet, i started to believe them. gaining weight let me become me again.

i think that, because i am finally me again, because i am finally letting myself shine bright because i feel bright, people are noticing. i say that not to sound narsissictic, rather just to point out that outsides really don’t fucking matter. it truly is whats on the inside that counts for the most. genuine people will recognize that and honor you for it.

so please, my loves, get out there. be your beautiful selves. with a little positivity, i think you’ll attract all the positive energy you’ve been looking for.

namaste

zoe

(p.s: today was my last day at work! i am officially, intentionally, unemployed. bittersweet. incredibly bittersweet.)

one for the lesson books

a few weeks ago i mentioned a night in which a guy asked a friend of mine to introduce us.

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well. here’s what transpired.

i asked said friend for the guys number and text him. a sweet little texting conversation took place over the course of a few hours. it ended with us deciding to kick it in the night time. plans changed and our little two-some hang out session grew two other people. the four of us drove into san francisco for a night of dancing and dub-step. all potentially fun. potentially.

before i go any further, let me catch you up on my history with guys. self-confidence only exists in small, bright bursts in my life. it’s never consistent and never stable. so when it comes to relationships, they end up failing before ever legitly take off. i like a guy, like a guy, like a guy, and, suddenly, if and when he likes me back, i immediately shut down. it’s like, i’ve got the lusting down part but when it comes to the intimate bits and pieces of relationships, i shut down and shut off. i never give myself or the poor guy a chance. this type of insecure behavior has stunted my emotional and sexual growth, a fact i continually sigh over. additionally, there are facets of my personality i truly dislike, ones i cannot turn off. like my tendency to be jealous and sulky if things do not go my way. it all stems from insecurity.

SO.

back to the other night.

honestly, i never dance with other people when i go out. i dance for myself, to move my body and shake off stress. so guy and i spent the first hour or so dancing side by side (the sexiness of my life is astounding). however, at one point, we separated and, just to get to the fucking point, i rounded a corner looking for water only to run into guy talking to another girl. a prettier girl (so i thought). a skinner girl (not that this means anything). a girl with better dance moves (i was being over critical of myself. clearly.). it was an awkward moment, one i moved quickly away from. i spent the rest of the night avoiding the guy, not really talking to him, and generally just being kind of rude. we haven’t talked since. i can’t say i’m at all surprised.

here’s the thing: sometimes, we react strongly to situations without really thinking. we react because our egos get in the way and tell us we’re not good enough. as i told my friend who asked me what happened: “i definitely over reacted. that was my ego getting in the way. i got all butthurt that he was talking to someone else. so. that’s that. guess i have no confidence.”

it took me a second to reach that conclusion, too. i tried really hard to reason my way around my immature, slightly embarrassing behavior but nothing really excuses it. because the truth is, i really don’t have any confidence. i reacted purely out of emotion instead of reason. who’s to say the chick i walked in on him talking to didn’t strike up a conversation with him? furthermore, just because a guy is talking with a girl doesn’t mean they are flirting. it doesn’t mean i should abandon all hope and count myself out (like i always do).

obviously, there is a lesson or two to be learned from this (at least for me). confidence shouldn’t come from the amount of attention you receive from other people. it should come from yourself, something i am still trying to wrap my head around. and, sometimes, guys or girls won’t be interested in you like you are interested in them. that’s natural. not everyone will like you. however, just because that’s the case doesn’t change anything about you as a person. you’re still amazing. one person cannot change that unless you let them.

i think what i learned the most though is that i’m not ready for a relationship right now. i know no one can fill the void inside except me. no amount of attention from guys or girls will makes me feel better. it will only boost my superficial self-esteem. before i can be in any sort of intimate relationship, i need to be okay and settled with myself. otherwise, i will continually bash my self-worth into the ground and crumble under the weight of jealousy.

sometimes embarrassment brings about the best life lessons.

namaste

zoe

(p.s: i’m heading to the doctor right now. i’m really nervous. wish me luck?)

let’s talk about sex (and why we’re not doing it)

can we talk about something?

or, rather, can i rant a whole lot of something like i usually do?

i’ve had a lot on my mind lately in regards to sex. not gender sex, but sex sex. and how it and touch in general have been lacking from my life. the other day, the lovely voice behind disenchantED, asked us what we’ve given up because of our ED’s. i said meaningful relationships. what i really meant to say was intimacy.

i am a firm believer in the importance of sex and sexuality in ones life. i think sex and sexuality are integral aspects of happiness. without them, a fundamental piece of humanness is missing. and can i just say just how much it is missing in my life?

the moment sexuality knocked on my conscious i locked the door. in high school i avoided any sort of intimacy while hormone crazed hookups happened all around me. i listened to stories gush from friends about drunken midnight lip locking. i soaked up their hush-hush secrets while remaining detached from the vague sense of longing mingled with jealousy inching its way into my thoughts. i was missing out.

yet…

yet i swatted hands off of me. i turned off being turned on. i disregarded the boys who showed interest. the thought of touching and being touched terrified me. alongside questions of “what if i’m not good at anything?” came the truer, more accurate reasons as to why i evaded intimate moments: i didn’t want anyone discovering my body.

i’ve never liked my body. i’ve never appreciated it’s shape, the natural curves and crevasses. i’ve only ever ignored it. i’ve only ever seen imperfection. i’ve only ever seen the “needs improvement” sign flashing over my head. even during my restriction days (i am hesitant to call it anorexia despite fulfilling the qualifying markers) i felt abhorrently fat despite counting my emerging ribs in the mirror. and now, as i occupy a fleshy, foreign body i am still working on feeling comfortable.

the lack of appreciation and the fixation on the perceived “imperfections” held me back from my sexual side. i withheld because i felt hideous and unworthy. surely, i thought, no one liked a girl with an overly round stomach and big thighs. surely no one wanted to touch a soft body. clearly no guy would choose me over my tall, spindly, gorgeous friends. i tricked myself into believe that, because i am bigger, i don’t deserve to experience sex and sexuality.

however…

i am starting to understand not everyone finds thinness attractive. i am discovering the concept of varying tastes. i am finding out the number of guys who dig thicker women is a hell of a lot bigger than i ever thought. i’m learning that maybe my roundness and cellulite and softness isn’t as big of a deal as i have always assumed it was.

really though, i am seeing that none of that matters. not really anyway. the only thing that honestly matters? confidence. heaping piles of raw confidence. i am, slowly, mentally settling into the body that grew into womanhood during middle school. i’m playing a massive game of catch up. i’m growing confidence.

so yes, my eating disorder has taken a lot away from me. that’s for damn sure. but i’m taking my life back. i’m taking everything back, sexuality included. and that, my loves, is for damn sure.

have you ever held back on life because you’ve felt uncomfortable in your own skin?

namaste

zoe

(p.s: do you know how positively gorgeous you are yet? inside and out?)

(p.p.s: just as a clarification: sex and sexuality are not completely absent from my life. they exist and have existed just in very, very small doses.)

on love, relationships, sex, and body image

by the way…did i mention i broke off my unrelationship sunday night?

yeah. made for the most awkward concert in history (he came along to adele because we originally planned it that way. i wondered if i should do it pre or post concert but he brought it up in the car on the way there so…oh well.) i’m not sad. i’m relieved.

yeah. relieved. and i’m starting to realize something: i’m not very good at relationships. i get bored really easily. i loose interest in the first couple of months, after the heat of the chase dies down. rarely do i settle into something wholeheartedly. i don’t settle period — if the “spark” does not exist effortlessly between me and another person, i usually can the “relationship” before someone gets way too attached.

curious about my romantic history?

in my short (almost 22!) twenty one years, i’ve been in five relationships. i ended all but one. the longest one lasted ten months. i’ve had my heart broken once and utterly shattered once. i’ve never had a random hook up. ever. and i’ve only been in love once. that head over heels can’t get over it type of love (the one that ended up shattering my heart and soul).

in high school, when hormones go nuts and people merge constantly, i avoided boys for a myriad of reasons. low self-esteem topped the list. i never felt pretty enough. i always felt fat, ugly, and worthless. my poor high school boyfriend never got to touch me because i was so uncomfortable in my own skin i never let him (or anyone) touch me. this attitude followed me into college. i self-sabotaged a million chances with a million guys because i felt uncomfortable with me.

anyone surprised? anyone? didn’t think so.

i may not be sexually savvy but i have learned a lesson or two. the most important? sexuality is an integral piece of being human. shutting it off is like shutting off a piece of you that is hardwired in your system. essentially, shutting off your sexuality short-circuits the rest of your system. now, i’m not saying go bang everything you see. i’m not saying indulge every sexual whim. i’m saying recognizing, accepting, and owning your sexuality (e.g: be safe. use protection kids!), whatever it may be, is incredibly important to your health (mental and physical).

unfortunately, i know i am not the only one who shuts off her sexuality. i know i am not the only one who convinces herself she’s not pretty enough for touching and feeling. talk to almost any woman and you’ll find some sort of apprehension concerning the body. we bang with the lights off. we avoid intimate situations because we don’t want to take off our shirts. we don’t masturbate because we’re not worth feeling good. we simply float through life with this ridiculously important switch flipped off.

well, loves, i’ve got some news for those of you who withhold your sexuality:

you do deserve to be touched.
you do deserve to feel.
you do deserve to love and be loved in returned.
you do deserve to not settle for the first person who comes along.
you do deserve to have sex with the lights and your shirt off…or not at all!

because every body, no matter what shape or size, deserves all the same wonderful things. there is no age limit to sex, no weight limit, no size specifications. you only require a body, a heart, a soul, a mind, and openness to new experiences.

something tells me you lovely people already have all these tools in your toolbox. and if you still struggle, know that when you love someone and someone loves you, they could care less about all the little bits and pieces you fret so deeply about. i’m finally starting to see that. i sincerely hope you will too. now i just gotta find me someone to love…

tell me, what is your relationship with sexuality? with sex? is it important to you? or not at all? i think we could have an interesting conversation here…

namaste

zoe

(p.s: so…i think i’m in love. ugh.)