Singledom

I’m that friend. The woman in the group whose’s stereotyped into, her career comes first, her life comes first. Finding a man, having kids is not happening anytime soon.

I hate this stereotype. I feel like society sets this up and I feel like I let it happen. I let it affect me and I feel like most women in my shoes do the same as well.

We feel guilty, alone and like we don’t belong at times. Like we’ve been branded an outside.

Just because I don’t want a boyfriend in this moment doesn’t mean I don’t get lonely. I don’t sit in my room and miss having someone there with me. But there’s also that voice in my head that reminds me I’m too busy to give someone everything they want and relationships a year ago were an addiction, the way I tried getting over the past and those who’ve hurt me.

So yes I’m taking my time, yes I’m not looking for anything serious.

Do I still feel out-of-place? Most of the time. Do I worry everyone will pair up, family will pass away and I will be wishing I had someone? Yes everyday. But I try not to think about. That’s all I can really do. Wait for that right person to enter my life, even if I’m not sure if that will really ever happen.

Would it be sad if I never found the one? A little. But I can say at this point in my life I’m a strong woman. I love my life, I love my poetry, I love the idea of my future and I couldn’t be happier.

Here’s to being single, people judging me, giving them the bird and mouthing, “fuck you.”

No more dating for awhile

I’ve been in this mood since January where I don’t want a relationship.  I even get rather irritated when I even imagine being in one.

I feel rather silly about this because looking through so many of my posts where I crave for someone, where I’m dying to be close to someone and now I’m like ugh I don’t want any of that. Which is sad because I’ve had many offers when it comes to dating and I just don’t want any of it right now.

I like my poetry and myself. Rather stick with just my work for a while. I think I need that and I deserve that. I’ve spent too much of my young adult life caring for another person instead of caring for a craft.

It’s my turn and no one is getting in the way this time.

Geez, I sound rather grumpy and blah.

But I don’ t care, because I’m happy with working alone everyday. Nothing gives me more energy and happiness than what my writing gives me.

Saturday Night

This last Saturday was my 30th performance reading my poetry. Not only was this my 30th show but March was the month my writing came to life and was the month I performed my work for the first time ever a year ago.

I couldn’t have asked for a better performance on Saturday night. It was wonderful, I felt wonderful, the room was amazing and its finally hit me. All these dreams I’ve been having really finally hit me and tonight sitting in my room I really do feel like a different person and all the things I want to write about, all the things I want to fight for now. Everything is just rushing at me so quickly and I’m so in love with these feelings and this beautiful woman.

I am so excited to this woman that’s been slowly creeping out of my skin. ( I know that sounds rather weird) These past few months have been so painful and I’ve cried so much.

But gosh this woman that’s been making appearances this last few days, I’m so happy and so excited to feel more of this energy and how much my spirit is filling so hungry and so fulfilled.

Can’t wait for what else of myself is ready to make it’s self known.

Feeling more and more like the self I’ve been searching for

Post written a week ago (Rough Draft of my Chapbook)

I’m trying really hard not to cry at my favorite coffee shop right now as I read my professors wonderful notes about my chapbook.

Gosh I am so lucky to have such an amazing professor working with me and I’m so sad this is going to be the last semester I get to work with him. I know we will have a continuing friendship and he’ll always be there to over look my poetry but gosh I’m going to miss working with him.

If is wasn’t for him I would have never discovered poetry. If not for stumbling into his class I would have never found poetry, never found this voice and I think I still be struggling a lot in my classes. I’ve become this straight A student now (Deans List), which is something I only ever dreamed of.

So I’m trying really hard not to cry right now as I read these extremely helpful notes.

Over the course of these two weeks I have felt more at home with myself. I don’t know if that’s exactly what I want to say. But I feel so comfortable in my own skin. I’m so damn happy.

Of course I still have bad days. But I seem to find myself looking less and less at article titled, “things to do single, things every women to strive for.”

Instead I make my own lists now. More like what I want to eat and what movie I should watch next.

I’m also fortunate I’m in love with my poetry in this moment. Which is nice because I’ve been so upset at my work these last few weeks, but today I so at peace. Maybe it’s because I bought 7 different bottles of lotion at Bath and Body Works. (There was huge sale) I also bought a candle.

I also went on a date yesterday. Post to come soon about that.

In this moment I’m feeling blissful and warm-hearted.

Gosh I am so thankful for this warmth.

Because I created it all on my own.

And as I finish up this post…finally (I’ve been rather busy this week with my poetry) I can now say I’m done with my first Chapbook. I started this bad boy last summer and after many drafts, many different poems and a lot of wine I can say I’m done. Of course I know it will need more work. (When is anything ever really done…

But I’m so goddamn happy right now and I’m hungry.

Remember where you came from

I suppose this will be my 100th post once I click on the publish button. Not like I’m one to care about certain little milestones (which is both true and a lie) But after I posted my 99th post and whenever I’ve been upset about something or someone and I start thinking about a post I stop myself.  I didn’t want my 100th post to be angry or full of negative energy.

Last year I went through one of the most tragic experiences of my life. Being cheated on by my boyfriend of almost four years was life changing. I not only lost someone I loved very dearly, but I lost my co-worker, my best friend, I lost someone I had grown with and I’ve lost someone that’s still living.

I know what you must be thinking, cheating happens and its rough, sucks ball and never ends well. Then of course you’ll tell me there are far worse events happening around the world. And this is true, but that doesn’t mean this pain I’ve been going through, this loss isn’t real to me. Along with this intense pain I’ve learned I am someone who wears my love on my sleeves, I’m quick to fall for someone and I give all of myself. This does mean I hurt often but I like to think about this section of Andrea Gibson poem, “Royal Hearts.”

Just to be clear
I don’t want to get out
without a broken heart.
I intend to leave this life
so shattered
there’s gonna have to be
a thousand separate heavens
for all of my separate parts.

• September 2012 I walked into my first creative writing class [207]
• October 2012 I began this blog
• December 2012 I turned in my first set of poems

And January of 2013 I walked into a poetry workshop that was going to change my life forever.

• April 2013 I got my first poem published
• September 2013 I toured for the first time
• October 2013 I performed at my first feature
• November I helped put together a poetry event

It’s hard to not sit here and cry right now looking at all I’ve accomplished. This is a long time coming for me. Of nights as a little kid crying in my bedroom, looking out the window and asking God, “Please make me like everyone else…I don’t want this disability.”

Here I am. On the track to graduate college, publishing poems, coaching high school students and reading books I use to dream about when I was a little kid in the bookstore.

I am so thankful God never listened to those cries. Even though I’m still rather mad and frustrated about all this sometimes. I’m starting to believe certain things/events happen for a reason and everything comes together at the end of the day to teach you a lesson or throw you into the next moment in life. (But I’m not going to get into that in this post)

I’ve come a long way from that little girl in elementary school sitting at a big round table in the back of dusty library with a popsicle on my tongue to teach my body to sound out the words I must have never been born with.

This is what my 100th post is about, the moments of firsts, the moments I cried and the time I sat down in a chair and found poetry. I’m not sure if I’m gifted or talented even, but I do know I’m happy.

Pull it together Sally

I almost cried at the first coffee shop I was at this morning. I’m onto my second coffee shop and I’m crying.

It’s amazing that one person can be in a room full of people and no one seems to notice to that one person crying. Don’t get me wrong I rather they not notice me crying and I’m keeping it pretty much concealed.

I decide to text that one guy I’ve been speaking to. I know as soon as Valerie reads this post she’s going to kill me but frankly I could no longer handle it. I can no longer handle this back and forth I’ve been dealing with the moment I hooked-up with him.

I like him, more than my mind and body says I should. Or that high power in your bones that tells you to just move on but you can’t and you’re no entirely sure why but you hang on anyhow.

But after Thrilla and after The one that turned out to be an asshole I just can’t handle this anymore. I was doing just fine without all of this knowing he liked me. Because I emotional can’t this back and forth. This speaking to me one moment and then disappearing the next, between school, Ex baggage, my cat, the lost of friendships and my overall stress of my disability I’ve been carrying around these last few weeks. I can’t handle it.

I’m so overwhelmed

Not sure where I begin and where the rest of me has ended up.

Laying out in a dream that looked like the 70’s

Last night laying down on a striped black and green couched my ankle propped up on the cushion [due to falling down the stairs earlier that evening] I sat there watching dancing flicking lights of a dance party. Friends, some sober, some passed out next to me and the dogs and some so drunk they decided to try and give me a lap dance.

This scene can only truly best be decided of a dream like state where I have found myself so how in the late 70’s. Between the music, the items around the house and a couple passed out in a hammock,  I must have been in a dream.

And there I was, in this dream like moment in a soccer tee-shirt, soccer shorts and my rainbow sandals [aka California sandals] with ice on my ankle. Did I mention I also wasn’t wearing a bra or underwear. Somehow though I still get hit on.

This seems to continually happen to me. I somehow find sex. For such a awkward, falling all over the place, saying silly shit stuff, I still manage to find sex. What is it with me? I have also learn that I may not be the most smooth with jokes, walking, eating I have some short of gift in regardless to the art of hook-ups.

Oh boy! Gimmie Gimmie!

Sitting on the couch last night I shared two moments with myself:

1. I was so happy to be single, so happy to know I have all these options. To know that I can go downtown and I can dance my life away and know that guys are checking me out. I am very confident in myself [well most of the time] that I know I have skills, I have looks, and I have a cute personality. Knowing and understanding these adolescent have been huge for me and I know have helped me out as a woman. This is the moments I love being single, I love not being settled down with someone and knowing I have options.

2. The feeling I have stirring deep down inside of myself. The feeling  I’ve since I could read fairy tales, really since i could sit and comprehend a Disney movie. The ideals of true love and living happily. Now don’t freak out too much, I’ m not  overly emotional about this, more this feeling I believe is something many women from my generation especially have deep down somewhere inside of them. This is the moment called, “I miss falling asleep with someone holding.” I miss kissing someone special. I miss having someone a part of my life in the most intimate of ways.

These are the two conflicting feelings I carry with me in each moment of my everyday life. I have both months, days, minutes where these two feelings attack my moments.

Here I am at this party. Full of beautiful, talented, caring and very drunk friends. Feeling as though I’m in a dream. Trying to hold onto that feeling.

Late last night I created affirmations in my bones:

“I do not need someone to confirm I matter.”

“I do not need a man in my life to be happy.”

“I do not need to sleep with a man to keep him around.”

[The last one is something I recently learned the hard way about]

And my last bone hollowing affirmation:

[I love myself]

There.

It seems as though I have grown up a little more.

Best thing I never had

I was sitting down earlier today  and this song popped up in my spotify. Reminding myself of everything I’ve been through from August and how thankful my last relationship is over. Thrilla is a very faded memory, I can barley remember now.

Yes, I do still images of my break up pop up in my mind. Yes, I do still feel hurt sometimes, still get angry and upset sometimes. But for the most part its faded into a deep memory, chapter in my life. I’m still growing but I do feel so much older now, after that. I’m more me now, writing, reading, loving my body, my clothes, my personality and I’m standing up for myself in friendships, in class, with men.

 This opened my eyes to who I was becoming and I didn’t like it. I’m happier, I’m awake, I’m alive. I’m finally being myself again.

This was the best thing that could have ever happened to me

This is Me, This is who I was born to become, I have always Become

I know there are no pictures of me up on my site and that is for privacy reason of planning of becoming a teacher and well lets be honest due to some of my subject matter its best if I keep my identity Anonymous on my blog. But I thought I would post a picture of my hair with snow flakes on it and add a little about me here, just for fun and to a new month, a new start and beginning.

1. The first thing I did this morning was: Have sex
2. My strength is: Myself, who i am
3. My weakness is: I care too much about what people think about me
4. Favorite Quotes: Hard to pick just one but I have the Resilience Gene, and that’s the gene that I hope will define me and everything I do for the rest of my life-Amy Cohen
5. This weekend I’m going to: Drink, write, have a good time
6. A TV character I’d most compare myself to is: Liz Lemon
7. The most important quality in a potential mate is: Has a passion
8. My guilty snack pleasure is: Oeros
9. My first kiss was: by a fountain in California in my hometown
10. Someone who always makes me laugh is: My brother
11. I’m annoyed by: elitist people
12. The last books I read was: I am Legend
13. Favorite word: universe
14. I cannot start my day without: writing
15. My idol is: my books, authors, writers, poets, language
16. If I was stuck on a deserted island, the one person I’d bring is: My best friend Valerie
17. Favorite Band?: The Beatles
18. Wish three wishes I’d ask for are: become a published writer, work at my dream job, and have a happy fulfilled life
19. One word to describe me is: Resilience
20. A surprising fact about me is: I have authority processing disorder

Passion

I haven’t spoken to anyone about this stuff yet, I’ve been digging deep and thinking the past few days. Finally thought I would share.

On Tuesday, the last day of classes, my creative writing teacher looks up at us. Tells us he has enjoyed teaching this class and how much he really enjoyed the class as a whole. Then as each of us turns in the last of are work to him up at the front of the classroom  he  stops each of and asks, “do you have a passion?”Clearly everyone after the first three people are now trying to think of what to say, I’m clearly nervous too.As I approach the table and place my papers neatly down on his desk table  he looks at me and instead of asking me the same question he’s asked everyone he turns to me and says, “I already know you have a passion, so whats stopping you?”

After being frozen in place for about 10 seconds I opened my mouth and said, “Myself.”

Then he smiled, laughed a bit and said, then maybe you should write about that. Because Sally you have such a passion for life, it shows in your stories, but I feel like something is holding you back. And your right, its you. Which is silly because I don’t think your doing a very good job at holding yourself back.

Later that day I went to pick up some papers from my other English professor. He smiles, hand me the papers and I walk away. Half way home I see the note on the back of my paper.

Sally,

You have such a beautiful spirit, beautiful heart and it shines through in you’re writing, in you’re words and when you speak in class. Its time you let go of whatever is holding you back, I know that the thing holding you back may be small, nothing to big of a problem, but that little pebble in your shoe is slowing you down. Don’t let anything slow you down.

I was really speechless after hearing and reading all of this.I have been so speechless, this is the first time I’ve spoken about it and I still haven’t told any one of my friends about this.

Why was I speechless?

I guess I never thought I was ever meant to amount to anything.

From the looks of it I need to get out of my own my.

Time to write some more poetry.

Time to tell my story.

Perfect. ❤