Destined to be the other woman

I was in the winter of my life, and the men I met along the road were my only summer.
At night I fell asleep with visions of myself, dancing and laughing and crying with them.
Three years down the line of being on an endless world tour, and my memories of them were the only things that sustained me, and my only real happy times.
I was a singer. Not a very popular one,
I once had dreams of becoming a beautiful poet, but upon an unfortunate series of events saw those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky that I wished on over and over again, sparkling and broken.
But I didn’t really mind because I knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted, and then losing it to know what true freedom is.
When the people I used to know found out what I had been doing, how I’d been living, they asked me “Why?”, but there’s no use in talking to people who have home.
They have no idea what it’s like to seek safety in other people, for home to be wherever you lay your head.
I was always an unusual girl.
My mother told me I had a chameleon soul, no moral compass pointing due north, no fixed personality; just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and as wavering as the ocean…
And if I said I didn’t plan for it to turn out this way I’d be lying…
Because I was born to be the other woman.
Who belonged to no one, who belonged to everyone.
Who had nothing, who wanted everything, with a fire for every experience and an obsession for freedom that terrified me to the point that I couldn’t even talk about it, and pushed me to a nomadic point of madness that both dazzled and dizzied me.

Lana Del Rey.


What if I’m destined to be the other woman? It breaks me to even have to question this but for the longest time I’ve asked myself why. Why is it that I’m not with him? Picking up groceries holding hands, planning long lead vacations on a crisp Sunday morning, and even sitting down each night with the same person breaking bread? I don’t mean that I’m the other woman to a man who’s married or even in another relationship. I just mean that I’m not the woman he spends his life with. I’m the phase. I’m the adventure until he wants steady.

It’s like I’m fucking diseased with a big fat scarlet letter slapped across my forehead that I’m not perceived as someone good enough. Someone that’s priority. Someone that he sees valuable enough to dedicated a meaningful friendship. Aside from my name, does he even know how I like my coffee? Or which way I always turn to sleep?

I don’t belong to anyone which made me belong to everyone.

Drink after drink, mistake after mistake. I reflect on the patterns and see nothing’s ever right. Bad decisions follow me like the plague, and I ride each of those waves only for a momentary gratification. The high from an addiction, telling myself I’ll be good after this one last hit.

Morning comes and he’s still in my bed; sleeping away without a care in the universe. He wakes up, holds me for a minute and walks out the door with his things.

The text doesn’t come for a few weeks, but then one night when I think I’m back on my routine, my phone beeps and I’m back here again asking myself why.


The music’s gone, my love

The music’s gone but I still feel it all.

The fire’s out but the warmth I once felt still lingers.

These five years have been challenging. We’ve both grown apart in our own way. I fell into a two year relationship that sucked the life out of me, while you figured out what you truly wanted. Through the two years we were apart, you’ve learned to compromise in order to be happy and I’ve learned to let things be instead of beating a dead horse.

Seeing you again, being in your arms again feels so different now. I’m not in love with you the way I fooled myself into thinking I was. Now it feels safe and sacred. I feel protected by a friend who’s loved me once and made me feel secure. I’m proud that you’ve learned to be more of an honest man. You’re doing right by a much sharper moral compass and I’m doing right by chasing what sets me free.

Our song ended 2 years ago when timing redirected us into two separate wavelengths. I committed myself into a serious relationship while you finally got out of yours. Go figure. 

But I still feel it. The buzz and familiar tune of the rhythm while our bodies tango as you hold me now that we’re reunited. The electrifying touch from your fingers as you caress my arms and pull me into a tight squeeze. It still lingers and I still feel it pulsating through my skin. Like listening to an old favorite tune, each beat bringing me back to a moment from our chapter.

But we’re just friends now. My body remembers, but my heart has moved on.

Goodbye dear friend. Let this be our last dance as we venture into a new story with our lives.

My phone will still ring and I’ll still be excited to hear from you, but we both know, it’s time we let go. I think a part of me will always be in love with you because of our unwavering chemistry. Timing and life just always got in the way. So let’s hold each other one last time, listen to the hymns of my soul connecting with yours as we bid our farewell because if timing screws us more than twice, it’s just not meant to be.

Can you separate Success from Happiness?

How do you measure success?
By telling yourself whether or not you’re happy?

So then, how do you measure happiness?
By determining whether or not you are successful?

There is an infinite loop between happiness and success that keeps us in a constant state of doubtful mind second-guessing who we are, where we are, and what we are.

I vowed that 2018 was to going to be the year I give back to myself. The past 2.5 years was dedicated to a relationship that churned me into someone I didn’t recognize anymore. I can fully turn that around and discover the better version of who I am before I meet my next awesome human being.

So then I decided to always remember to stay focused on being happy. I question it every so often but now I can’t help but wonder, do I associate happiness too closely with success? Meaning happiness is contingent on whether or not I’m doing better than my cohorts or excelling in my career?

But it’s really not about that. Happiness shouldn’t be a competition or graded based on performance at work. Work eats up enough of our lives, why do we have to sacrifice our mental state to it as well?

Now, I’m striving to compartmentalize the two to evaluate just how happy I am with myself without attributing it to my work success. There’s so much more to it than that!

I got sick last November and gained over ten pounds, which to me has been more than I’ve gained my whole life in a matter of two weeks. So I got off my ass, kicked my workout routine in high gear and promised myself I was going to keep moving. This past week when I had to see my doctor, I finally felt good about myself when I was asked to strip down for an inspection. There was definition, there was a slimmer me, and a leaner me. Why? Because I didn’t give up on myself and that perpetuated my joy all day.

So happiness isn’t contingent on success. We can find little pockets of it everywhere. How we make our decisions, who we choose to interact with, and where we anticipate we’ll be going for the weekend.

As I draw my bath tonight, spending Valentines completely but sparingly single, I find true bliss in realizing I too, can be happy and it’s not from measuring success. It’s from being grateful for everything I have from my resilience to my peace to my unwavering ambitions.



The Little Things That Screw Us Up

We have one life to live and I fucking wasted it being unhappy seventy percent of the time, lost in my own head, tormenting myself by obsessing over the flaws in my DNA.

I’ve been really negative lately on nuisances in my life and finally, someone special looked me blankly in the face and said, “You have a negative outlook on life and try to control everything even when you can’t.”

So I started thinking about all the bull I have gripes with and what to do what it.

  1. Body image self-hate: Facebook is by far your worst enemy. As we age, it’s only natural we don’t look as happy and youthful as we used to be. All the “8 years ago memories with photos of you during your best body days” are over, but I now look at it as a challenge. That person is still me, if I’ve let myself go, I can still achieve that body with strenuous workouts. This new motivation isn’t just so I can feel better for myself, but continue a new lifestyle that will put my physical health on a new trajectory.
  2. Judging others: This is one big ball of fucking exhaustive energy you shouldn’t be exerting. Physical therapists that help to alleviate stress tell their patients, “Just be a hollow bamboo, let it pass on through.” Why do we spend countless minutes of our day looking sideways at things and people that don’t please us? Does it hurt our day? No, so cut the bad habit out. This attitude doesn’t help anyone.
  3. Making up excuses for other people’s actions: Um, so how do I put this lightly without breaking a glass for you. So you know that girl who hasn’t replied back in 3 days? She’s not interested. Period. Point. Blank. It’s 2018. Everyone’s basically attached to the hip with their smart phones, so if she hasn’t responded, you’re just not a priority. Instead of realizing this, you’re sitting there over analyzing and imagining that she must be overwhelmed with work or some other bullshit time consuming activity. But the facts are really staring you in the face and you’re not willing to believe it because you’re holding on to some hopeless romantic dream. Let that shit go& move on.

Take some time out today and reflect on these three things. Victim to all of the above? Free yourself and start training every day to realize what you’re doing and slowly let go of the bars in this prison that’s holding you back from being happier.

It’s going to be hard, I know. I’m working on myself too. It’s definitely hard not to judge someone who’s outfit is all wrong but they’re doing them, so why not do you? Let it pass in 2018. You’re much better than this.

My Home Alone | A Christmas Story

I’ve lived so long lost in stories that promised happy endings. Stories that gave me a picture perfect family. Characters that showed valor and true faith in each other. Fairytales that willed me into believing my life had to fit this flawless mold.

But real people don’t get these fairytales. They get curveballs thrown at them everyday. They get dysfunctional families that tear each other part and love stories that end in anger and disappointment. But that’s okay.

Our stories are deep rooted in shaping who we are and grounded in to making us stronger as we survive every chapter of our lives.

Every single family is as dysfunctional as the next. I remember questioning why I was thrown in the worst of them yet, but after hearing people’s stories of their own troubles, I’ve come to realize we’re all the same. We go through these rite of passages that make us human and make us invincible to bullshit. Maladies hit, heartbreak wear us down, and yet each of us still wake up the next morning hoping for a better day. If it doesn’t, we just keep tricking our minds until we believe it to be true. Mind over matter each and every day until we get through it all.

  1. So what if your alone on holiday? Grab a book and dive into an adventure with Adelina in The Young Elites book series.
  2. Feeling under the weather from a nasty flu? Take the time to channel your inner strength and thank your body for the resilience it’s provided you time and time again. Our bodies are crazy wolverines. We get a cut and our skin only needs a few days to heal the wound.
  3. Missing someone in your life? Write about your feelings. If that person is still in  your life, write a note dedicated to them so they can read it when you’re reunited. They’ll feel special you’ve thought of them and you’ll know you’ve made someone’s day brighter. If this person is no longer in your life, write them a letter anyways. Read it over and realize what that person meant to you in that moment. It’s a great start to self discovery.

It’s Christmas. The first of many I’m sure that I might be spending alone as my family has started to drift apart and go their separate ways with their new families. But I’m using that time to find my independence. I’m cherishing the new found hours to write more and make peace with this tranquility.

I wish you all a happy holidays and not let fake fairytales ruin the magic of Christmas. You are what you make of it. Today? I’m enjoying an oreo milkshake in California while I remember the things I’m grateful for. I’m finally getting back into writing my book and I hope Santa visits each and every one of you granting you your deepest holiday wishes.

I’m Growing Sober

I’m growing sober or rather sober is growing on me. The past week I’ve had an episode with something I thought was a closed chapter in my life. Almost a year and a half later, I got another panic attack. Worst one yet – and it happened at my new job where the space is open concept so none of it could have been spared except for my brief 5 minutes in the bathroom until someone walked in.

Since my doctor is on mat leave and the holidays hit, I haven’t been able to see another physician to diagnose what’s really going on in my body. From the panic attack, I’m now suffering from severe abdominal pain and back aches that come in waves. This pain hasn’t subsided for over week so until I’m able to have a professional check out what’s wrong internally, I’m striving to eat healthier and cutting out the one vice I should’ve a long time ago: alcohol.

I just got back from a Friendsgiving and when offered a drink, I was happy to decline. The rejection came out of me quite easier than I expected. I guess when health hits you like a ton of bricks, nothing is more important than getting back to 100. I got home at a timely fashion and it felt good to target a healthier and cleaner living.

Tomorrow is going on Day 9 – I pray this gets better soon or at least I’ll get access to a doctor.


You’re not ready if you’re comparing him to your ex

4 months post breakup, and I’ve found the secret to evaluating whether or not you are ready to date again.

*DISCLAIMER: Post exodus from my 2 and half year relationship, I second guessed if I’ll ever trust my brain to make a right decision again. The relationship wasn’t horrible, my ex wasn’t a piece of dirt, and the breakup rated rather high in the amicable category. Yet still, it was 2.5 years of my life and there were major phases when I was unhappy. Therefore, the looming question stands:  if I gravitate towards a certain type and this is what I am attracted to, doesn’t that just mean I’ll be dating the same person over and over again?

Many people think it’ll be hard to meet new people or even find someone you like. I made that mistake of semi starting to crush on someone without realizing until it was too late that his personality, though coupled with some differences, were all red flags I had for my ex.

I pondered some more and felt that if these were the issues I couldn’t fix with my previous significant other, what confidence would I have that this man would be any different?

Dating someone similar to your ex is like being given the forbidden apple. It looks tasty, new, crisp on the outside with a hint of familiarity as though you know exactly how sweet and delicious it will be. However, would you want to go down the same road and bite into an apple knowing it’s poisonous for you?

More and more I thought, I came to the conclusion I wasn’t ready to date quite yet. I saw my ex in him no matter what. Then I started fantasizing what ifs before anything even started. In my silly imaginations, I already fought with this new guy exactly how I fought with my ex. I grew cognizant that this unhealthy comparison meant I just wasn’t ready. I needed more time to heal, and not to jump on the first thing that filled a void I had.

So, doctor’s orders: stay away from the apple. You’re not quite ready if these new prospects are just fillers for your ex.