Sometime towards the end of last year, I started to get really bad pelvic pain. I know developing an intolerance to dairy can happen later in life but I really hated coming to terms with it for myself, as I LOVE dairy. After consulting with my dietitian friend, I decided to start eliminating trigger foods from my diet. It seemed like it was working. But I really wanted to go back to diary so I did. And I was fine. I never could determine what the sudden pain was from until 2015.
One of the most vivid memories of my early 20s was going out for drinks with friends and somehow finding myself dry-humping a wall. Ah yes, those were the days. But in a month, I will be thirty and I don’t know how. How did I get here? First of all, thanks God. But for real though? Just the other day, I was 18 without a care in the world. At 25, I was still turning up like you wouldn’t believe. Now? I can’t wait to get home on Friday and sleep off all of the exhaustion from the week. A drink? My stomach can’t take the thought.
The following advice in this post is almost all a result of my first hand experiences. Everything that I’ve gone through in my 20s, has molded me into the woman I am today. Of course I’ve had many regrets that I later took back because without the experience, I would not have gotten the lesson. I’m still learning the lessons. But if I could share with you what I wish someone would’ve shared with me, this is what I would say.
Exactly one year ago, I quit my job at a law firm without a plan. All I knew was that I wanted a more fulfilling life. I was excited to start a new chapter in my life although I had no idea what that life would resemble. Right now at this very moment, all I can say is THANK YOU to the Most High for giving me strength. It was a challenging year and I am better for it.
About three months ago, I stopped talking to someone very dear to me. When evening came and I attempted to sleep, my heart began to race. You know, like I just ran a marathon or was about to be approached by zombies. Of course neither of those situations were the case.
It hit me: I just stopped talking to the only person I’ve remained in constant contact with.
It’s been an interesting week for me, health-wise. I pride myself on being transparent on this blog but as of late (and as a friend of mine pointed out), I’ve been “holding back”. Even on here, I feel like some things just aren’t meant to be shared. It’s always a difficult call to make but yours all the same.
2013 has been an interesting year. Let me tell it, it was uneventful and unproductive. But that’s not true. A lot has happened over the course of the year.
- I got into two fender benders.
- I went to a few awesome concerts (Solange, Emeli Sande, Foreign Exchange, Lianne La Havas, James Fortune).
- I got my third tattoo.
- I saved $1000 in an emergency fund.
A ship in port is safe, but that’s not what ships are built for. – Grace Murray Hopper
The Four Agreements, pg. 34 & 35
There was a woman, for example, who was intelligent and had a very good heart. She had a daughter whom she adored and loved very much. One night she came home from a very bad day at work, tired, full of emotional tension, and with a terrible headache. She wanted peace and quiet, but her daughter was singing and jumping happily. The daughter was unaware of how her mother was feeling; she was in her own world, in her own dream. She felt so wonderful, and she was jumping and singing louder and louder, expressing her joy and her love. She was singing so loud that it made her mother’s headache even worse, and at a certain moment, the mother lost control. Angrily she looked at her beautiful little girl and said, “Shut up! You have an ugly voice. Can you just shut up!”
The truth is that the mother’s tolerance for any noise was nonexistent; it was not that the little girl’s voice was ugly. But the daughter believed what her mother said, and in that moment she made an agreement with herself. After that she no longer sang, because she believed her voice was ugly and would bother anyone who heard it. She became shy at school, and if she was to sing, she refused. Even speaking to others became difficult for her. Everything changed in the little girl because of this new agreement: She believed she must repress her emotions in order to be accepted and loved.
Whenever we hear an opinion and believe it, we make an agreement, and it becomes part of our belief system. This little girl grew up, and even though she had a beautiful voice, she never sang again. She developed a whole complex from one spell. This spell was cast upon her by the one who loved her the most: her own mother.
Wow, what a revelation. After reading this passage, it dawned on me that at one point in time, I held on to similarly disparaging words.
She couldn’t remember the last time she sat this close to a man and felt anything. This was nice. This felt different, comforting and familiar. Men rarely impressed her but his silent confidence piqued her interest. This was good, yeah.
This chat is brought to you by myself and a spirited Cancer friend…and the letter E, for emo. warning: mature language below.