Happiness journal. 

  It’s easy to talk about, think about, and harp on the things that upset us. Rather than appreciate our current job, we complain that the pay isn’t enough, that our coworkers suck, or that there’s no room for growth. We don’t give ourselves credit when we get a C+ in a difficult class. Instead, we complain about not getting a higher grade or blame the professor. We’re hardly ever satisfied with the way that we look and make ourselves feel like shit when we eat junk food. But what are the benefits of complaining? What are the benefits of thinking about things that upset us? Doesn’t it make more sense to think about the things that make us happy instead? I think we can all agree that choosing to think happy thoughts is the better option. So, I’m suggesting this: a happiness journal. This happiness journal doesn’t necessary have to be an actual journal, although that’s a good idea. It can be a blog, a note in your phone, an email, etc. Write down EVERY SINGLE THING that makes you happy! Here’s my first list: 

  • Sweatpants 
  • Sweater weather candle from bath and body works 
  • Body wash
  • Loofahs 
  • Milk chocolate trufflelata from Godiva (allow me to change your life with this one) 
  • Stars 
  • Henny and cranberry 
  • 9:30 am (typically) phone calls from my girlfriend 
  • Handwritten notes from my mom 
  • A full tank of gas 
  • Pink lemonade 
  • Laughing with my sister 
  • Almost anything Nike 
  • The smell of laundry 
  • Being warm 

And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. 

When we take the time to think about all of the things that make us happy, we realize that the list goes on and on. If you don’t believe me, start a happiness journal. Whenever you’re feeling sad, angry, frustrated, etc., open up your journal and read your list. If it doesn’t put a smile on your face, read it again until it does. 

Yours truly, 

The tryna be happy all the damn time lesbian 

Uncanny. 

If I died tomorrow, there’s a few things I want people to remember. 

“I love you.”Some of my loved ones may feel as though I don’t say it enough. But if I died tomorrow, I really hope everyone that I love knows just much I love them. I hope that I show it more than enough. 

If I died tomorrow, please don’t remember all of the times that I was angry, frustrated, sad, etc. I want to be remembered as a happy person. 

If I died tomorrow, I want to be remembered as someone who changed the way you think. Someone who changed the way you view life. 

If I died tomorrow, don’t remember all of the complaints I made about money. Remember me as unmaterialistic. Remember the person who wasn’t impressed by name-brand handbags and expensive jewelry. Remember just how happy a pair of sweats and a beanie made me. 

If I died tomorrow, remember me as simple. Remember me as someone who values quality of life. Remember me as someone who strived for happiness and longed for adventure. 

But most of all, if I died tomorrow, remember me as someone who was different, unique, weird, one-of-kind, you name it. Remember me as someone who embraced being different and didn’t run away from it. Remember me as someone who took, “You’re weird,” as a compliment. 

Yours truly, 

The lesbian who googles and is impressed with the synonyms for weird 

  

Same love 

I was deeply hurt over this past weekend. It wasn’t one particular person that hurt me and I wasn’t mad at anyone. But I was hurt in the way that I could’ve started crying at any given moment. And I did cry. A lot. I cried in my car. I cried in the shower. I even cried in front of my little sister which is something that I’ve probably done only a handful of times. I was so desperately trying to figure out why I was hurt. Where was all of this pain coming from? I eventually figured it out. I was hurt by the world. The world’s, or should I say society’s, perception of being gay is what hurt me. I realized that being straight really is easier. If I were a man, my girlfriend and I would never get looked at or questioned after sharing a kiss in public. We could hold hands in public without others’ eyes diverting downwards when they pass us on the street. We could show affection in public without men thinking it’s “hot” or an open invitation to come home with us. 

Being straight is easier. 

Straight people don’t ever have to sit their parents down and tell them, “I’m straight.” It’s already assumed that they are unless they dress “differently” or talk “differently.” You know, because all gay people dress a certain way. Feminine lesbians? Unheard of! Unless of course one is feminine and another is butch in which case the feminine one will probably get questioned more often. People have to figure out just how feminity and sexuality go hand in hand. How could a woman be feminine and be gay? IT’S POSSIBLE. 

So like I was saying, being straight is easier. There is no, “I’m going to tell my parents soon” or “I don’t know how to tell my family.” Coming out to your family and friends usually causes anxiety. You’re afraid of how they’re going to react. Oh and be ready for the same ole questions. 

Here’s a list: 

“Well, what about grandchildren?” 

“Have you always been gay?” 

“How do you guys.. You know?” 

“What about your ex boyfriends/girlfriends?” 

“Did something happen to you?” (This is the question asked when people think trauma has something to do with one’s sexuality. LOL.) 

“So, are you fully gay now?” 

“You know that it’s wrong, right?” (God will probably be brought up shortly after.) 

The list goes on and on. 

I was hurt because it’s unfair. It’s unfair that we have to hide who we really are in front of our loved ones. It’s unfair that I have to act like the best friend. It’s unfair that we have to sneak kisses. It’s unfair that I’m the one who can easily be resented. It’s unfair how I can make a woman happier than any guy ever has yet I can only be loved behind closed doors. But what’s really unfair is how, “You’re playing it off so well!” is supposed to be some kind of compliment. That’s the thing: I don’t want to have to play it off. I want the whole world to know that I love you and that you love me. The hashtag #lovewins is cute but clearly, love hasn’t won just yet. 

It’s so unfair.

Yours truly, 

The lesbian who can marry the one she loves in all 50 states but continues to be “less qualified” as another woman’s partner 

  

Adjustment. 

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. 

   

Yours truly, 

The lesbian who’s been trying her hardest to adjust  

Change. 

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. 

Yours truly, 

The emotional ass, ain’t even on her period to be this emotional, lesbian 

Writers will understand. 

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. 

Writers understand. 

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. 

Yours truly, 

The lesbian with the heavy load 

Sorry, I had to.

🙂 

I’m a woman too. 

  
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. 

Yours truly, 

The lesbian who loves and wants the best for women not because I’m attracted to them but because I am a woman myself