Friends

I’ve written before about pieces.

Pieces that get lost

when you’re in love with someone, as two hearts

begin to merge together.

I’ve always mourned the loss of those pieces, those parts

of myself that I resigned to never see again.

But maybe, I don’t have to mourn them.

Sitting on the couch, I finally realize what girl friends are for.

They are for reminding us of who we are when we can no longer remember,

for remembering all of our pieces and appreciating them,

for wiping the confusion and sadness away with the two words you’ve forgotten you needed

to hear: I understand.

I Carried You

I carried you

through

your darkest days.

Mine were dark then, too.

And not once did you

offer me

your

shoulder.

A Whisper of Defeat

She wears on me like

the tide crashing repeatedly

on a rocky cliff, swallowing

everything in her wake, taking

what she wants, washing away

footprints of happier times.

“I love you,” she proclaims.

“Being around you is exhausting,” I say

in a whisper of defeat.

The Truth About Truth

The truth.

Two chilling words that will slap you awake. Two words that we, as a society, seem so desperately afraid of. So many people live behind masks of deception and charades, never revealing the core of what and who they are. Why? Why is the truth so devastatingly terrifying?

Because the truth is rarely what you want to hear. It’s hardly ever easy to listen to, and it’s never easy to tell. And once you know something, you can never un-know it. People believe what they want to believe, and life is easier that way. Less messy. Less painful. Less honest. Less real.

If you don’t know something, it can’t touch you. It can’t hurt you.

So we live behind the haze of smoke that others create. We hide behind the clouds, because the burn of the sun could destroy us or leave us with ugly scars. We hang our heads in the shadows, because during the day our monsters seek us out. They come to light and they come for us, beckoning to be seen and to be heard, once and for all.

It’s funny how when we were little kids, we were taught to always tell the truth. “Never tell a lie,” they always said. And yet here we all are in adulthood spewing out lies, half truths or anything at all that could get us out of a sticky situation or preserve our reputation. Some of us lie so much that our lies become our truth. There comes a point where the lines become blurred and not even the liar can tell what is real anymore and what is not.

We live in a world where most people are either hiding the truth or running from it. And it is important to be aware of which people in your life are like this, and rid yourself of them before you become them. You are who you surround yourself with. Or so the saying goes.

I value the truth, because I know what it feels like to be deceived, manipulated and lied to on a deeply painful level. And it’s humiliating to be the girl who defends her cheating lover, and stands up for a lying friend, later having to come to grips with the fact you placed your trust in the hands of the wrong person.

I’m sure we can all relate to this. After all, we have all been gullible and naive at one point or another. Most of us still are. We have all trusted the wrong person with a secret. We have all confided in someone who didn’t really care. And in this new year of 2014, I urge all of you to reevaluate yourselves and the people you surround yourself with.

As for me, I already know what I have to do. I have to let you go. All you liars, and prevaricators. In the words of e.e. cummings, “you must let them go, they were born to go… let all go dear, so comes love.”

I only value those, who value me enough to tell me the truth. So to all my friends, I ask you to tell me everything you know I don’t want to hear. Because I need to hear it. I will love you better for it, even if it hurts. And I will know that you really love me.

The great philosopher Bears Den once said, “even though your words hurt the most, I still want to hear them every day.” And this is how I feel about life, about love and about friendship.

If you don’t value truth then I don’t value you, and I don’t have time for you.

I value the truth, because I value life.

And I hope that in the year 2014, the rest of you choose to value these things too.

Editors Note: Below is a link to e.e. cumming’s poem referenced above. As well as the Bears Den song whose lyrics were also referenced in this post. Enjoy.

https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/115198-let-it-go—-the-smashed-word-broken-open-vow 

Strangers

I’ve known you

my entire life. And after all this time,

you should understand who

I am

with perfect clarity.

I am standing

right in front of you, and

you still

don’t see me.

Tug of War: A Friendship Game

I have exactly eight people in my life that I consider a best friend. I’m sure some of you are already activating that stereotypical societal rule that you can only have one real best friend. Some of you are thinking, “eight best friends? How is that even possible?” However, when you think about how many people exist in this world, a mere eight that I trust and confide in is hardly even a blimp on the worlds radar.

Sometimes, I forget that not all of my best friends are lucky enough to have eight other people they consider a best friend, too. For some, I am all they have. Some have a few best friends, but are separated by distance. Some say they don’t connect with their other best friends like they do me. Not everyone is as blessed as I am, and I know this. But sometimes maintaining eight friendships is difficult on me. I think, sometimes certain friends depend on me too much. Sometimes, the fact that I have eight best friends that all need me (and that I need), causes me to be pulled in different directions trying to cater to the needs of too many people.

Sometimes, they tug and tug so hard in different directions that I feel like I might be torn apart. For many of them, I am the middle man. They all know of each other, but they don’t all get along. Some don’t understand why I spend time with some of the others. Some think I should make more time for them, because I have known them longer. Some are insecure about losing me. Some are insecure about maintaing that “best friend status.” Some are scared they won’t measure up to my other best friends.

None of them know that sometimes, I feel like a dead carcass. Sometimes, it feels like I am just something for them to fight over. Just a prize for the winner to proclaim, “aha, I have won, which means I am her real best friend. Not you.”

I understand these issues and fears, because I am human too. I am flawed and I have insecurities, and the idea of losing one of my best friends is unfathomable. But I am just one person. Friendship isn’t a game. Friendship isn’t a competition. Friendship shouldn’t feel like tug of war.

I have eight best friends and my friendship dynamic is different with each and every one of them, which is exactly how it should be. Why would I be best friends with eight different people if they were all identical or if the rewards garnered for their friendship were all the same. Some of them are childhood best friends, some are family, some are connected to me by molecules and atoms and come in the shape of a soul mate. Some came into my life at a time when I needed them the most. Some give me both nuance and stability. Some give me feelings of nostalgia while reminding me how far we have all come. I have more depth with some than others, and I have more breadth with some than others. No friendship is the same. What is the same, is that we all laugh together, grow and change together, and we all have ups and downs with each other.

Nobody will ever know how hard it is to maintain eight friendships with people who don’t all like each other or understand each other, and are sometimes jealous of each other. Sometimes, the constant tug in different directions can become tedious, frustrating and just plain sad to me. The truth remains though, that I wouldn’t trade any of them for just the friendship of one. They are all an essential part of who I am and why I get out of bed in the morning.

Maybe if you have more than one best friend you will be able to relate to this post. I hope so. I hope I am not the only one. Maybe, you too, know what it feels like to be tugged in different directions by different people whom you have equal love and respect for.

Maybe I should have listened to my elementary school teacher when for show and tell I talked about my three childhood friends and she said, “no. Choose one.” Maybe I should have only named one person when I sat down to dinner with my parents and they asked, “so who is your best friend this year?” Maybe, I should only choose to share my secrets, my pain and my glory with one person in this world. Maybe then my life would be easier. Maybe then I wouldn’t have to cater to the needs of so many different people who sometimes forget to cater to mine. Maybe, I would know some sort of peace, a quiet that I haven’t known since kindergarten.

But probably not, because my life would be empty. Less colorful. Lonely. Uniform. Hollow. All eight of my best friends are a part of who I am and every thought and belief I have has been cultivated by their influence and presence in my life. I wouldn’t be half the person I am today, without all of them.

I just wish they could all see that as clearly as I do.

I am all of them, and all of them is me.

I Don’t Know Where I Belong

Today I had a conversation with a friend that was meant to be encouraging and even a sort of bonding moment, but it quickly spiraled into her being defensive and argumentative. We are both college students and she was supposed to begin her first day as a transfer student yesterday at a new university. However, for many different reasons, she decided to back out of going to school there.

Fear is such a huge factor at play here, and I know this because my freshman year of college was a terrifying, eye opening, life changing experience and it wasn’t always good. In fact, most of the time it was a struggle. I ended up transferring home for my sophomore year because I was battling depression and an anxiety disorder. In my year at home, I became increasingly terrified of leaving home again, because the first time I moved away, it had obviously turned into a disaster.

The university I attended my freshman year became this monster inside of my head. A monster that I wanted to avoid at all costs and forget about if I could. Well, it isn’t easy to forget the pain of your past and just before my junior year of school began, I decided to transfer back to my freshman university.

I was terrified of going back. Of living on my own again. Of having to make new friends and reconnect with old ones. I was scared about keeping up with school. I was afraid of disappointing my parents again. I was afraid of the same thing happening junior year that happened freshman year.

But the one thing I was MORE afraid of than all of these combined, was not going back at all.

I had to face my fear. I had to know that I could do it on my own.

And I would not allow my fear to be the monster in my closet any longer.

I went back. It was a struggle. I was not always happy. I didn’t always feel like I belonged.

But I got through it. And I am still here.

Towards the end of my conversation with my friend today, she said, “I just don’t know where I belong.” And once she said those words, I truly felt empathetic. I could feel her struggle, because I had been there, and sometimes, I still am. Once she said those words, the fact that she had turned what was supposed to be friendly advice into an unnecessary argument no longer mattered. This girl, my friend, she is struggling, she is lost… and when someone feels this way, it feels so much safer to take the easy way out. The easy way out for her, being, to not transfer to the new university.

I hope she lets her heart guide her, and not her fear.

And I hope she knows that she is not alone.

I don’t know where I belong. A lot of people don’t. But, it is only by taking every new opportunity, giving in to risks, and working hard that we are able find out.

And even if you try and you find that you still don’t belong, well, then, go find yourself somewhere else.

Go find others who don’t belong and don’t belong together.

 

What It Feels Like by Hearts And Daggers.

-TJ

What It Means To Be Human

Talk to me.

Tell me about your fears and all of the things that keep you up at night.

The big things like, what you are going to do with your life and what the future holds.

And the small things too, like how you had a bad day because your boss was mean to you.

Or how you feel guilty for cheating on your diet with that chocolate ice cream cone.

I want to know what makes you tick.

Like how you love spending time in cemeteries and how you go to the bookstore to feel safe.

How you hate it when people yell and violence scares you.

How you secretly love romantic comedies.

But hate happy endings.

How you wish people would invest in love just a little bit more.

I want to know about the time you got dumped and thought the world was going to end.

But then, I want to know how you survived.

Because, you did.

You survived.

Tell me about the happiest moments in your life.

Don’t sit there and think about them.

The happiest moments do not have to be thought about, they come to mind instantly.

Tell me about the moments when you knew you were alive.

I am not talking about the time you paid for a luxurious vacation.

No, that is not a moment of infinite life.

Dig deep.

Remember a moment when you did not have to spend money, but sat in the company of friends around a campfire.

Drinking wine.

Your own laughter echoing through the trees.

Time suddenly froze.

And in that instant, you knew.

You were alive.

Tell me about the moments that made you cry.

The people that broke your heart.

And the songs that saved your life.

Tell me about all the horrible things you have done.

How you lied to your parents.

Cheated on your spouse.

Stole money from your best friend.

You are not perfect.

And I don’t expect you to be.

I will not shame you, belittle you or scold you.

It’s okay.

We all make mistakes.

Forgive yourself.

Tell me about your favorite books.

And about the fictional characters that feel like your best friend.

About the moment you knew you loved him.

Tell me about your dogs. Your cats. Your horses.

And how your happiness depends on theirs.

Tell me about the day you lost your virginity.

And how it didn’t live up to your expectations.

Or how it did.

Tell me about your parents.

How they love you.

How they unknowingly hurt you.

How they inspire you.

Tell me about the abortion you got.

And how your boyfriend wasn’t there to hold your hand.

You felt so alone.

But you are not.

Tell me about your flaws.

And why you see yourself as so imperfect.

Tell me all of these things.

Because I care.

Because I understand.

Or at least, I will try to.

Because everybody needs a friend.

Someone to talk to about anything.

Or someone to sit in silence with.

And somehow feel understood.

Someone who will look you in the eyes.

And ask to see your scars.

Your flaws.

Someone who says,

“I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours.”

And then you do.

And you are still loved.

Without judgement.

This.

This is what it means to be a friend.

To have a friend.

To survive in this world.

And not go insane.

This.

Is what it means.

To be Human.

The Power Of Women

Every woman has come across THAT girl at some point in their life. “That girl” being the girl who is constantly trying to compete with you, make you jealous, bring you down, spread rumors, steal your boyfriend, and talk behind your back.

The older I get, the more pity I have for these types of girls.

Women are so powerful. Not only on a macro level, but also on a micro level like simply being a good friend. All women go through the same or at least similar experiences in life. We will all fall in and out of love, we will all get our hearts broken, some will get cheated on, we will all cry, some will get married and some divorced, some will have babies, some will become widows, some will be diagnosed with a life changing disease, some will be rich and some poor, we will all get our first periods, we will all have sex for the first time, we will all get menopause, some will get lonely, some will feel lost, some will be happy, some will be successful, we will all make mistakes, some will have regrets and we will all need someone to share these milestones with.

So, despite all this, why are we still having to deal with “THAT girl?”

You would think that since we all go through very similar stages and experiences in life that we would be more willing to embrace each other. But it seems like still, for some reason, some women take pleasure in the pain and failures of other women.

It’s not healthy. It’s not right. And it’s a part of what I hate about the culture and society I live in. For some reason, our brains have been engrained with the idea that we must always try and be better than the next girl. Smarter, skinnier, prettier, funnier, a better cook, a better girlfriend or wife, a better mother, etc. This concept in our culture is an insanely distorted and antiquated way of thinking that we must put an end to. Women are not the enemy, they aren’t the competition and we have to stop looking at them this way.

Some of the hardest times in my life have been made even harder by certain hateful women. Likewise, they have also been made easier by other supportive women and let me tell you, it makes a huge difference.

Instead of trash talking and being jealous of the beautiful girl, get to know her. She has insecurities just like you.

Instead of judging the girl who made a mistake, remember that she is human and you have made mistakes too.

Instead of fighting over something that wont matter in two years, forgive each other.

Instead of laughing at other women’s failures, hug them and tell them about the many times you’ve failed too.

Instead of feeling sorry for the girl who is mourning the loss of a loved one, tell her you wish you could be as strong as her.

Instead of getting annoyed with the girl who wont dump her cheating boyfriend, listen to her and be there for her when she does find the courage to leave.

Instead of using insults like fat, whore, bitch, and slut, try complimenting each other and encouraging each other.

Instead of judging the girl who sleeps around and the girl who is a prude, embrace them – we all live our lives differently and that is beautiful.

Instead of hating the girl who is dating your ex boyfriend, be mature, they deserve to be happy.

Instead of sulking alone in your room, reach out to your girl friends, tell them about your pain and they will help you heal.

We are all just trying to find ourselves and this is no easy feat. So, why make life, which is already hard enough, even harder for each other?

Lets learn to stand up for each other, encourage one another, support one another and be more understanding of the fact that life is not easy and all we have to help us through… is each other.

Women are the most powerful weapon that other women have.

That said,

Mom, Aunt Cindy, Aunt Diane, Colbie, Grandma, Hannah(s), Angela, Casey, Michelle, Rachel, Jamie, Kelsey, Gessenia, Kristen, Christine, Ellen, Kiana, Dayna, Lauren, Dahlia, Cynthia, Sandra, Brittany, Meaghan, Karli, Jess, and Aarti —

Thank  you for not being THAT girl. Women heal women and at some point or another, each one of you has healed me. And I will never, ever forget that.

xo

TJ

If Not Now, When?

I had just finished 7th grade when my grandmother passed away. She had heart surgery and never woke up and even though she was in a coma for at least a month, I never saw it coming. It was the first death of a loved one I had ever experienced and it was the first time that my naive illusion of forever was shattered.

The last time I saw her before she passed away, was just one more squandered moment I would have to live with. I was half asleep sitting at a restaurant with her, my grandpa and my dad. I had just gotten done playing a softball tournament in Bernie, Texas and was exhausted and silently wishing that I could be with the rest of my softball team who had gone to the mall.

When you are young, the important things, like family, don’t really seem important to you, because you never think you will ever have to live without them. I never got to say goodbye. I never got to say I love you, one last time. I don’t even remember if I gave her a hug before I left. She knew that I loved her and I’m sure she understood that I was tired from playing softball in the hot sun all day, but that’s not the point.

These moments that we get with the people we love, they are all we have. Moments and memories and people who make us feel loved and experiences that make us feel alive. It is true, that youth is wasted on the young. We don’t understand the why’s of the world yet and maybe some people never do. Even more reason to be who you are and do what you love and always mean what you say.

The trouble is, you think you have all the time in the world to do the things you’ve never done, to say the things you’ve never said. But you don’t. Time is always there, lurking in the shadows, taking what it can and giving nothing in return. Time is not your friend, and time will wait for no one.

So lets say all the things we have never said.

And lets do all the things we have never done.

And lets tell the people we love, that we love them.

Lets say sorry when we are sorry.

Lets do the things that terrify us.

And lets stop being so afraid of what we want.

It’s really that simple.

So, I hope that you see things in your life that startle you and shake you to your bones. I hope you meet people that make you question everything. I hope you make a mess of your life from time to time, because in chaos, you will find strength. I hope you find things to marvel at every single day. I hope you feel things you never knew you could feel and I hope you appreciate the littlest of moments even if you don’t always see them coming. I hope you find out who you are and you love yourself anyway. I hope you find cracks in people and things and still find the beauty in them. I hope you know what you want, because even though going after what you want can be scary, the people who suffer the most are the ones who don’t know what they want. I hope you live a life that is your own, a life that makes you happy, a life that you are proud of. And if you find that you are not, then I hope you find the courage to start all over again.

Because, if not now… then, when?

xo

TJ