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.



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.

Loneliness in a Relationship

You made me feel like I lived a very lonely life. I felt alone most of the time- even surrounded by friends. When I was with you, there was a part of me that no longer wished to be with you. I questioned myself why at the time but didn’t understand it until now.

3 months post breakup and I’m finally getting to know myself. The person I should’ve been watching out for. In these 3 months I’ve filled it with so many great memories from traveling to the east coast to celebrate my birthday to going out more with people I rarely would ever dream of going out with.

I was itching to run, but at the time I felt so dependent on you. Maybe it wasn’t you who held me captive in the relationship but myself for not being strong enough to move on long after the ship had already sailed.

I was lonely IN our relationship because you didn’t care about me. You said you did, but your actions didn’t. All the times we were hanging out, it was on your terms. Your video games. Your VR set. Your friends because you didn’t like MY friends.

You liked to stay up late watching stupid adult cartoons, so I always went to bed alone. I woke up earlier in the day since I’m a morning person and had coffee while I read. We wouldn’t say hello until 3 hours after the fact. Then I’d be hungry for lunch but you’ve just started your day and wanted your “alone” time to smoke weed and go on reddit.

Reflecting back on the two and half years I spent with this routine, I’ve learned to never compromise my weekends again. Those four walls confined me for so long that I settled. I lost the will to go out and explore novel things. I got so used to the quiet and the same insane thing over and over again that I lost my voice to speak up because I simply just gave up.

Then I met someone. He doesn’t mean a single thing to me – I barely even know him. But we have fun. We talk about work, hobbies… interests…

….then he holds me to sleep at night.

Something you’ve never done. The excuse was always you’re not comfortable and that you wanted to sleep.

I wake up in his arms.

Something that’s never happened to us.

I wake up in his arms every time we sleep on the same bed.

How can someone so new

..already fit better than you?



Post Breakup Coffee & Me

Then i found myself going back to the old habits.

coffee, black

tumblr, scrolling

everything went back to the way it was, except I felt emptier. Though a part of me came back and I missed the old me so much, I felt as though it wasn’t quite right anymore.

Like a chapter had been ripped out of a favorite old book.

For the longest time, I sat staring at the screen and mind numbingly passing post after post but felt nothing.

For I came back, but I lost my heart.

The breakup changed me, but it changed me for the better. I built strength in my character through the tears he made me shed. I grew wiser from the self loathing when we would fight until graveyard hours.

It’ll be a long while before I let someone in again, but I will over time. That’s the beauty of how resilient we can be when it comes to love. You’ll go back to the same routine you had with your life before you met him. Then one day, you’ll find another who’s heart beats the same rhythm. The one who’ll break down the walls and guarded heart.

Until then,

coffee, black

tumblr, scrolling.

I’m back where I’ve always been. And I missed the old me so much.



[5] reasons he’s your Mr. Wrong

What makes him the Mr. Wrong in all the right ways? Here’s the telltale list:

  1. Everything about him is yummylicious, he has no flaws. His hair, his chiseled bod, his cute cute smile when he looks at you, and most of all his playfulness in which you already know deep down there’s an expiration date on this relationship you have with this manchild. If he has no flaws, you’re clearly at a stage where you’re blinded by his twinkling Edward Cullen skin and thousand watt smile. It’s okay to notice flaws and accept them. But if you’re telling all your gal pals at brunch that this dude is 100% flawless… check yourself before you wreck yourself. At one point, he’ll fall off the pedestal and you’ll be hurt by how much you were blinded.
  2. You want the limited supply. You know you really shouldn’t like him because he rarely ever replies back and when he does, he just seems aloof- all the more reasons for you to want him more, right? We never want the surplus of resources now do we? We’re always coveting something when it’s “limited.” It’s crazy how much we analyze a mere text. Ask him, “hang out later?” and he replies, “Yeah hit me up.” Cue the mind going bonkers with: “No smiley face… is he not interested?!” Or “Okay, he replied back in less than 10 minutes, he must be into me” or “Does he really mean for me to call him? Should I wait until he calls?”
  3. Making plans and flaking. Errr, red alert! If a true man, (not a fuckboy) made plans to see you, he’d follow through. I get the personal emergencies that could arise but if he’s making plans with you and flaking more than a few times, you know you’re not a priority. I don’t care how adorable those dimples are! You deserve someone who would put you in the priority you deserve. If you’re blocking out your schedule to spend time with him, then he should be doing the same. Don’t be an option!
  4. The Chameleon Paradigm. Do not forget the person you are. I’m sure we’ve all done this at one point in our lives. I’ll be frank, there was once a crush I wanted to impress so bad, I even added Facebook likes to something he’d be into as well. (Lame, I know, but at least I’m woman enough to admit it) Just because he loves loves loves watching basketball, does not mean you should be studying up on J.R. Smith’s draft history. He should like you for the differences that make you unique. So if he admires Game of Thrones, it doesn’t mean you should watch the first 6 seasons in one week so you two have something to talk about. He’ll have his friends for that. If you find yourself changing your spots to make him like you better… you’ve already fallen prey to what I call the Chameleon Paradigm.
  5. The shoe just doesn’t seem to fit. No matter what, there’s always a question in your mind whether to trust him or whether he’s right for you. The allure in the mystery is what keeps you interested, but is that really what you want? Stop trying to piece something together if there’s always a missing piece. Fact of the matter is, the pieces you hold won’t fit because he’s not the right puzzle.

If you can relate- pump the brakes. Look at yourself in the rear view mirror and just stop. Stop freaking out. Stop overanalyzing. If it feels so frustrating now, are you sure this is what you want to continue on with? When it’s right, and trust me, this is going to take time and age, you’ll be less anxious and more happy.