I’ve been meaning to write a blog for so long.
I’ve procrastinated, hesitated and avoided it for so, so many reasons: What will he think? How will it make her feel? What if my dad reads it? How can I be that honest? Will I hurt someone…again? Will the people who read Cheeky think I’m crazy? (Well, I am crazy actually. Quite.) I’m too busy. I’m too tired. I’ve had too much wine. I don’t want to get that personal anymore… The list could go on. Really.
So today, I am saying fuck it. I write this blog for me. And for you. Not you, but you. The girl (or two) out there who is looking for a little bit of uncensored, emotional honesty to relate to.
I hope I do a decent job this time.
There is much to catch you up on. As you know, my ex-ex relationship destroyed me, took me a year to recover and I did a lot of really intense self-reflecting during that time. What you may not know is that I jumped into a new relationship soon thereafter with a beautiful, kind, loving, giving, sensitive, patient and generous partner who taught me a lot about myself.
And after a little over a year, it sadly just officially ended.
Because, because, because…oh my. There are various reasons that I won’t get into. I honor the love we shared too much to divulge in detail in such a public platform.
What it really boiled down to was an incredibly harsh self-realization I had a couple of weeks ago.
Granted I made this realization while I was on vacation in Mexico. On a jet-ski. (So perhaps, in a way, it didn’t feel too harsh at the time.) But as I skidded over crashing waves in 80-degree sunshine, with just the ocean and my thoughts to reckon with, it all became crystal clear: I have become one of those girls who is always in a relationship. More importantly: I don’t want to be that girl. Most importantly: I am not that girl.
Well, actually I am.
Somehow I’ve let the last couple years of my life become an ever-flowing absorption and consumption of one singular person and thus into the next, and somewhere along the way, I’ve completely forgotten how to be on my own. I’ve forgotten what it feels like to just be Jessica. Not the-few-months-in-between-relationships Jessica. Not the Jessica who is associated with another person’s name. But the Jessica who is grounded, clear minded, open hearted and fiercely independent. The Jessica who doesn’t need to be in a relationship, let alone want to be. I want to know that Jessica. I want to know her better than I’ve ever known anyone in my whole life.
So back to that moment out on the Pacific ocean… I also realized that, for the first time since I could remember, I hadn’t made one New Year’s resolution. (For the record, I hate the word “resolution.” Seems so terminal. I like the word “intention” better.) I digress… I am usually fresh out the gate with a list of 15-20 intentions/resolutions at least. I’m not kidding. So… I guess I will make them right here and now, for all of you to read and know. It’s still January so I think it still counts, right? Okay. Right.
This year, I just have two. (Number 1 counts as one.)
1.) To date only one person exclusively this year: me. To reclaim my independence. To embrace the silences and not run from them. To not equate being alone with being lonely. To know that being lonely is okay. To in fact spend as much time alone as possible. To not compare my emotional station in love and life to others. To be true to my own feelings and not be capsized by fear, neediness and my constant desire to be wanted and needed by someone else. To care less of what people think of me. To focus more on what I think of myself. To think of myself as capable, strong and self-sufficient. Because I am.
2.) To blog more.
