Where do I begin? I guess I’ve found another piece to the puzzle. Tonight I realized that I’ve been having a difficult time adjusting. I’m in a new relationship and it’s proven to be completely different from my previous one. I think that it’s different in a good way but different nonetheless.
My previous relationship was a codependent one. We were attached at the hip and everyone who knows us knows this to be true. It was no secret. We lived together for almost two years and even when we weren’t living together, we seen each other quite often. We also talked every day, all day. Our Instagram posts were primarily about one another with me constantly posting pictures of her. In fact, there was probably some confusion as to whose profile was whose. We didn’t spend a lot of time with friends and definitely didn’t spend enough time with family. When we did spend time with these people, it was usually together. Going out on a Friday night for drinks without one another hardly ever happened. In fact, it probably never did. For three and a half years, it was all about her and I. This obviously took a toll on the relationship and was probably one of the primary reasons as to why we broke up. Not to mention it took a toll on my psyche. We simply didn’t give each other space. I never took my Mom’s advice which was, “Give each other time to miss each other.” I mean, unless you consider not talking for a few hours giving each other space. This codependency made it difficult to walk away.
The two of us have moved on. We’re both in new relationships and I believe that we’re both very happy. However, the dynamics of our relationship creep up on me every now and then. Okay, maybe they creep up on me more so now than then. I crave the attention of my significant other in ways that I received attention from my ex. I want to wake up to countless text messages and Snapchats and be woken up by a phone call. I’m actually cool with 3 missed calls. Call me while I’m sleeping, I’m cool with that too. But I have to realize that our codependency is not only what ruined our relationship but so many others. I have to become comfortable with the fact that my girlfriend and I are not one. We are two people that live two very different lives who happen to be in love with one another. I won’t see her every day and that’s okay. I won’t talk to her all day long and that’s okay too. I won’t spend every weekend with her and that’s fine. She won’t spend all of her time with me. She is still and will continue to be her own person.
It’s just taking me time to adjust.
Be patient with me. I promise I’ll adjust.
The lesbian who’s been trying her hardest to adjust
Ever have one of those, “What’s wrong with me?” days? I’m having one today and I have them more than I’d like to admit. It seems as though every time I come into work, I have something new to talk to Sabrina about. I don’t know if she’s annoyed by me and my problems but I most certainly am.
Something that my ex said to me right before we broke up seems to haunt me on a daily basis; I think that I mentioned it in a previous blog. She said, “You’ll never be satisfied.” When she said this, I don’t think that she was solely referring to myself in relationships. I’m pretty sure she was referring to my life as a whole. I’m unhappy with this statement but even more unhappy because I know that there’s truth behind it. I tend to focus on the past. I think about how good things were 3 days ago or 3 months ago which prevents me from appreciating what’s happening right now at this very moment. If there’s a change in someone’s behavior over the course of time, I notice it and I usually deem it as a bad thing. “You call me less than you did a few months ago.” “We see each other less than we did a few months ago.” Now the issue is that these thoughts manifest into a complete shit show. If we see each other less than we once did, I’ll probably think that something’s wrong with that. I’ll think that we’re losing something as opposed to gaining something. I’ll think that it means we’re less excited to spend time together. Basically, I’ll think of a bunch of negative things and then I’ll even express them to the person. Expressing myself makes me feel better until the other person is like, “There’s nothing wrong.” That’s when I realize I created a problem that wasn’t there to begin with.
So I ask myself again, “WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME?”
I want to have a positive outlook on life. I want to wake up happy more than I wake up sad. I want to go to sleep content as opposed to going to sleep with a million things on my mind. I want to change. I need to. How do I change? Is it my past that’s affecting my present? Maybe there’s a shit ton of pain that I haven’t dealt with. Maybe it’s because I don’t allow myself to cry as often as I need to. Maybe it’s because I’m afraid of experiencing any negative emotions even though they’re a sign that you’re human.
Ev, you’re human.
Ev, it’s going to be okay.
Ev, stop worrying.
Ev, I love you.
The emotional ass, ain’t even on her period to be this emotional, lesbian
Wow, I can’t believe I’m writing a blog. When I first started this blog, I was so excited that I wrote two blogs in one day. Now I can’t even think of what to write. But as with many other things in my life, I started to really think about and analyze my lack of writing. Why did I stop writing so frequently? What is my next blog post going to be about? And even now that I am writing, I’m questioning where my desire TO write came from. Is it because I need to vent or is it because I’ve seen Jenny from the L word write? It’s pretty amazing how our brains work. Something as small as a scene from a tv show can cause desire for, a craving for, something or even someone, days later. Anyway, what was I saying?
Oh yeah, my lack of writing.
Well, ladies and gents, I think that it’s about these two things: privacy and vulnerability. Being that this is a public blog, I now feel limited with the things that I can and cannot write about. My Instagram is public and the link to my blog is in my bio so things that parents won’t like is just a click away. I’m an open individual. I have very little hair on my tongue especially when it comes to some of the most intimate topics like sex and relationships. But not everyone is like me and that’s something that I should probably start accepting.
But I need to vent.
There’s something liberating about writing. Your writing doesn’t have to have so much of a filter. It’s about being raw and being authentic. It’s about shedding light on your deepest, darkest secrets and the thoughts that are constantly dancing in your head. But do I want the entire world to know the real me, the completely vulnerable Evelyn? Do I want the entire world to know what causes me pain? Do I want the entire world to know how I feel about the closest people in my life? I don’t think I do.
But I need to vent.
I need to ramble.
I need to lay it all on the table.
I can’t keep carrying around this baggage.
It’s getting heavier and heavier.
The lesbian with the heavy load
Sorry, I had to.
And I also want women to orgasm more often. I want women to be thanked for everything that they do for their families and their friends. I want women to be appreciated and respected for keeping strong while experiencing so many inequalities. I want women to be praised rather than ridiculed for how intensely and passionately they feel. I want women to receive hugs just as often as they give them away. I want women to be kissed on the forehead more often. I want women to have their hand held more often. I want women to be called beautiful more often. I want women to stop being honked at while walking down the street. I want women to feel safe at all times of the day but particularly at night. I want women to feel safe in their homes, at their schools, and in their offices. I want more women to become CEOs. I want women with children to be treated fairly and taken into consideration more often.
Yes, I’m a feminist.
Yes, I’m a lesbian.
But more importantly, I’m a woman.
The lesbian who loves and wants the best for women not because I’m attracted to them but because I am a woman myself
Ah, what to say about money?
For starters, I do believe that money is the root of all evil. At the end of the day, money is what matters to most people. Not love, not family, not friends. People kill people for money. I’m not gonna list all of the fucked up things people do for money because that’s not what this blog is about but please keep in mind that people do ALOT of fucked up shit for money.
I didn’t grow up with money. Have I always had a roof over my head and clothes on my back? Absolutely. But have I experienced what it’s like to have the electric cut off? Yes. Have I went to sleep hungry? Yes. As a matter of fact, I went to sleep hungry last night. I haven’t had it as bad as some people but I also haven’t had it as good as others. It’s unfortunate and at times I do feel bad for myself but I also feel as though it has shaped me into the person I am today. I don’t care about name brands nor am I ashamed to say I don’t have the fancy shit that other people have. I don’t have a dozen name brand bags. I don’t drive a Mercedes, BMW, or Lexus. I don’t make six figures a year. I don’t have name brand shoes (besides my sneakers). I don’t have expensive jewelry. I don’t really have anything that’s expensive now that I think about it. But you know what? I don’t feel as though I’m missing out on anything. I could care less about a Louis Vuitton (definitely searched for the correct spelling on Google) bag. I could care less about a pair of Red Bottom shoes. It doesn’t bother me that most of my jewelry is fake or that I didn’t go to an Ivy League school. I don’t make a crazy amount of money every year. Shit, I don’t even have health insurance. But material things don’t materialize to a better you. I’d rather be a good person, an honest person, someone who’s wise and caring and thoughtful than someone who’s miserable with a shitload of money in the bank and “Dr.” in front of their name. I’d rather have fun watching movies with my loved ones on my $9.99/month Netflix account than be miserable on a yacht with people who claim to love me but really only love me because of my bank statement and reputation.
With that being said, you can keep your name brand shit. I honestly don’t want it.
Being a good person is priceless.
The broke and happy lesbian
Yes, this blog has two titles.
You know, before I start writing, I have A LOT to say. I think about many things at once, but once I start writing, I kind of forget about everything I was thinking about and I end up writing a half-assed blog. It’s half-assed because it isn’t thorough. This blog is going to be thorough.
So, my birthday is coming up. As opposed to experiencing 24 hours of happiness, I usually experience many different emotions and a lot of these emotions are negative. I get really emotional because I have such high expectations which I know is my fault but I think that a lot of us have high expectations on this particular day of the year. Personally, I want to feel an abundance of love. I want to feel as though my birthday is important to people. I want to know that my existence matters. I want people to go above and beyond. But this doesn’t always happen. As a matter of fact, I’m usually unsatisfied and unfulfilled. It’s my fault, I know. I know I’m not being a good Buddhist by attaching such high expectations to my birthday. It’s something that I plan on changing and I plan on changing it with this upcoming birthday.
I’m going to spend most of my birthday by myself. I plan on sleeping in (always a blissful thing to do) and then taking a trip to Brooklyn. I plan on getting a coffee from a nearby coffee shop, going to a bookstore that I found online, and reading for hours. If Mother Nature decides to let the sun come out and play, I’ll read my book on the grass in Brooklyn Bridge Park. Maybe it’s kind of odd to want to spend your birthday like this but I’m really excited. I’m excited to spend time with me on my day. I’m excited to enjoy my existence. I’m excited to not worry about how many people also enjoy my existence. And that leads me to my second title: quantity vs quality.
I complain about the way my mom feels about gift giving all the time, especially around Christmas. She wants to see a lot of presents under the tree. She wants my sister and I to have a lot to open on Christmas morning and she also wants a lot to open on that special day. I try to stress to her that gift giving is about quantity and not about quality. I’d rather get ONE thing that I’ve been wanting for awhile as opposed to getting five things that I can live without. I should stop complaining about this though because I’ve been the same way for awhile. I have valued quality over quantity plenty of times, particularly with friends. This goes back to being emotional on my birthday. I want EVERYONE to know that it’s my birthday and expect EVERYONE to wish me a happy birthday. But why does it matter how many people wish me a happy birthday? This year all that matters is WHO wishes me a happy birthday. I’m going to place more value and express gratitude to those who wish me a happy birthday without a reminder from Instagram. Those who watch the clock and wait until 12 am to wish me a happy birthday. Those who call me and text me. Those birthday wishes are the ones that matter.
Pay attention to the birthday wishes that you receive and remember that quantity is more important than quality. I personally believe that it is better to be wholeheartedly loved by a few rather than insincerely loved by many.
The trying to be perfectly lonely lesbian
PS: Thank you for the lesson.
What does happiness look like to you? What does happiness feel like to you? How many happy people do you know? Do you consider yourself a happy person? Happiness is a topic that we love and hate to talk about. We typically love to talk about it because we’re all searching for it but we hate to talk about it because many times we realize that we aren’t happy or at least not as happy as we want to be. But wait, there’s hope! Here is my suggestion to anyone and everyone who comes across this blog:
DEFINE HAPPINESS BY YOUR TERMS.
Is a white picket fence, 2 kids (one boy, one girl), two cars, and a four bedroom house your definition and/or image of happiness or is it society’s image? Is it your mom’s image? Your dad’s? If this image of happiness comes from a source other than your own, RECONSIDER IT! Society will attempt to convince you that happiness is rooted in the “American Dream.” Instagram will attempt to convince you that happiness is rooted in the number of followers you have. Twitter will attempt to convince you that happiness is rooted in a retweet and/or favorite from your favorite celebrity. Shit, it doesn’t even have to be your favorite celebrity. If ANY celebrity retweets or favorites your tweet, a smile makes its way across your face. If your Instagram picture gets a minimum of 11 likes, a smile makes its way across your face. If a handful of people wish you a Happy Birthday on Facebook, a smile makes its way across your face. Now I’m not saying that these things can’t make you happy, I’m simply suggesting that you pay attention to your definition of happiness and ask yourself, “Is this my definition of happiness?”
And now a tidbit from my conversion with my best friend, Lianet.
“If you were smoking crack, I’d be like, ‘Is ya’ happy?’ like T.I. and if you express genuine happiness then I’m happy! I’d tell you that you’re fucking up your mind and body BUT IF YOU HAPPY BOO BOO, SMOKE YO CRACK!”
This is an extreme example but you catch my drift 😉
The lesbian who will never stop seeking happiness
Uh yeah, pretty much.
I’ve been blogging a lot lately because I’ve been feeling a lot lately. Lots of different emotions and lots of thoughts running through my mind. This post, in particular, is about wearing your heart on your sleeve. Personally, I think it’s great for someone to wear their heart on their sleeve and I also think that they’re in the minority. But, coming from a person who wears their heart on their sleeve, it hardly ever feels like a beneficial thing. I’d like to say I feel a lot, but I can’t single myself out. We all feel a lot. We all think a lot. What distinguishes myself from others is that I typically speak about it. If I like you, I want to let you know that I like you. Shit, I’ll let you know that I like you, how much, what I like about you, and the list goes on. I guess problems arise when you expect the same from someone else. Again, most people don’t wear their heart on their sleeve. I know this, I do, but I still have expectations. I continue to expect people to tell me how they feel. I continue to expect people to be as open and as honest about their feelings as I am. As we all know, expectations lead to disappointment. And that’s exactly how I feel most of the time: disappointed. Besides disappointment, I also feel unfulfilled. I’m constantly confused about the way people feel about me. And I completely get the whole “vibes” thing and sometimes I do rely on my gut. But how reliable is my gut? What if I think someone feels the same and they don’t? What if I overextend how they feel about me? What if I’m telling the world that they really like me and to them, it’s just not that serious? This is why I ask questions. This is why I want to know how people feel. I have quite the problem with setting myself up for disappointment. I’d rather prepare myself or at least try to prepare myself. I’d rather know how someone feels so that I can act or feel accordingly.
But this typically doesn’t happen. At least not for me.
I think it’s clear that one of my strengths is also very much so my weakness.
The unfulfilled lesbian who doesn’t let shit go
Is there a such thing as mutuality in relationships? Do things need to be 50/50 in order for both parties to be completely satisfied? COMPLETELY satisfied? Does 60/40 make the cut? Am I looking for someone to do just as much as I do? Or someone to do just a little more than what they’re currently doing? Are my standards too high? Do I need to change? Will I ever be completely safisfied? Will any of us ever be completely satisfied in our relationships or will we always want more?
It’s so easy for me to be thoughtful. It’s easy for me to buy someone a gift, a thoughtful gift. It’s easy for me to surprise someone with flowers or an edible arrangement. BUT WHERE THE FUCK IS MY SURPRISE? I want love letters mailed to my house. Or even a card. A just because card. I’d prefer a just because gift or gesture as opposed to receiving a gift on my birthday. I expect a gift on my birthday or special occasions in general, but the element of surprise is so enticing.
I’m sick of feeling as though I do “too much.” I’m sick of feeling as though I go extra hard to win someone’s heart and someone’s trust. Where’s the person who’s gonna go extra hard to win MY heart? MY trust? Do I give my heart too easily? Do I need to start playing hard to get? Acting cold hearted? It’s just not me. I’m not one to play games. I’m not one to be petty. That doesn’t mean that I don’t know how to play games or be petty BUT I’d rather not be. I’d rather be honest, open, and genuine with others. But I also wanna get what I want.
I’m a caretaker. I enjoy learning about what makes others happy and what makes others sad. I enjoy learning about others wants, needs, wishes, desires, etc. I enjoy learning everything (or almost everything) about a person. I like to get inside people’s minds. But who’s going to get to know me inside and out? Does anyone want to know me inside and out? Again, I’m a caretaker. I don’t mind being a caretaker but I can’t say that I’ll be upset if someone wanted to take care of me.
BLOW UP MY PHONE.
LEAVE ME VOICEMAILS.
BRING ME FOOD.
WAIT FOR ME AT HOME.
ASK ME QUESTIONS.
GET TO KNOW ME.
I guess I just want to be taken care of.
The lesbian who wears her heart on her sleeve
This is and has been a thing for quite some time. How about we take it back to MySpace and top 8? The first three spots on your top 8 were the most important, especially the first spot. Who was going to take that number one spot? Was it going to be your boyfriend/girlfriend? Your best friend? What if you had multiple best friends? Although it’s JUST MySpace and it’s JUST a top 8, we let it define our relationships with others. While your number one friend on MySpace feels great to have “earned” that spot, the rest of your friends are pissed, especially if one of those friends has you as their number one friend on their top 8. For some reason, the real life connection between you and your friends didn’t matter the moment that you chose your top 8. Okay, but who uses MySpace anymore? We’ll move on to Facebook. I currently do not have a Facebook so I am unaware of all of its politics, but I do have something to speak on: your relationship status. Oh no silly, not your REAL relationship status. Your Facebook relationship status. Why would I care if you’re in a relationship in real life? What matters is if you’re in a relationship on Facebook. And if you are in a real relationship but your status on Facebook is single, YOU ARE IN TROUBLE. How could you not change it? How could you not claim your boyfriend/girlfriend to all of your Facebook friends? What, are you embarrassed? You don’t want your high school friends to know that you’re in a relationship? All of a sudden, someone’s cheating. Wait… WHAT? EXACTLY! These are the conversations between people in relationships. Conversations that are dictated by and a result of social media. Shall we move onto Instagram now? You BETTER have pictures of you and your significant other EVERYWHERE. Man crush Monday? Woman crush Wednesday? Throwback Thursday to our first Christmas? Flashback Friday to our first New Years? I want it all. And if I don’t get it, it will be a conversation and it won’t be a good one. Readers, you know I’m right. We’re all guilty of it. We’re guilty of wanting to be someone’s man crush Monday #mcm or woman crush Wednesday #wcw. We’re guilty of wanting our partner to immediately change their relationship status on Facebook. We’re guilty of jumping for joy at the sight of being in someone’s top 8, especially that number one spot. It’s almost natural for us to react in these ways. It’s almost as though we cannot help BUT to feel this way. We have to help ourselves. If your relationship is good, let it be good. Do not ruin it by constantly arguing with your partner about social media. There’s better things to argue about like what’s for dinner and what to do on Sunday fun day.
Take a step back next time you find yourself allowing what’s behind a screen to dictate your emotions.
The lesbian who’s Instagram is @evelynandreaxo
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