All posts filed under: Personal

The Ones Who Love First

There are two kinds of lovers in this world. The ones who wait to be loved, and the ones who dare to love first. The key to winning, the ones who wait will tell you, is to show just enough enthusiasm to appear intrigued without looking eager. Feign just enough interest to appear engaged, without seeming desperate. Allow just enough transparency to appear relatable, without feeling exposed. Love is simply about appearing. Appearing intelligent. Appearing witty. Appearing worthy. Appearing available. Appearing out of thin air. And the trick, they say, to keeping the other person interested, is to make damn well sure they know you’re capable of disappearing at any time. Love is a game of power, and you lose when you love first. To the ones who dare to love first, For some you will be too much. Too much grit. Too much force. Too much impact. Too much pressure. The devastation you are capable of will cause others to seek shelter. You are a glorious storm, seismic and ferocious. A cataclysmic tidal wave. …

What should I wear? Whatever I want.

This holiday season I bopped merrily and brightly into a party wearing a long red dress. The mood was loud and light as friends and family snacked and sipped their drinks. Coat still on and presents still in hand, I exchanged Merry Christmases and one arm hugged each person sitting around the kitchen island. A man whom I hadn’t seen in months stood to greet me. He embraced me warmly, the way old friends do. This was immediately followed by a comment on my outfit. “You need to put a slip on.” For context, my dress was not see-through. For clarity, this justification is not necessary. My face turned red. I’ve been known to have a sharp tongue with a lightning fast response time. A SLIP? Oh. You mean the garment invented in the 1940s to make sure women covered their legs appropriately? I’ll get right on that. So in these situations, I try to find a moment of pause to assess the intention before reacting. I wasn’t willing to chalk this up to whether …

Two Places At Once

My greatest first loves always start with music and cities. St. Lucia will always be New York for me. I have an uncanny ability to photographically remember where I was, and what I was doing,  when certain songs were playing at specific moments in time. It’s a bizarre, useless, auditory sensitivity I’ve grown accustom to loving and loathing. Everyone has those things. A smell. A place. For me, it’s always been music. A song will come on, and I’m standing right where I was when it first played. I’ll know what I was wearing. I’ll know who I was with. I’ll know what the mood was. There’s no undoing memories like that, however meaningless or meaningful they may be. The first time I heard Bon Iver’s “Holocene”, I was standing alone on the Williamsburg Bridge. I was wearing a green utility jacket with leather sleeves, perched atop the pink railing. The lens of my Nikeon D3000 was pressed against a gap in the protective fence. It was meant to keep people off, but there I was scaling it for a photo. …

Emptying Your Cart

I’m the kind of person who will go into a grocery store with the intention of buying two things. Let’s say grocery bags and yogurt. And you know what sucks? I was just at the grocery store, and managed to not get the only two things I needed. So here we are again. Then I decide I want avocados. And then I see tomatoes. And then I think about how much I love avocado toast and I pick up a baguette. And for some reason I HAVE to make apple crisp like a true overachiever. I rarely bake. So I pick up a dozen apples. A DOZEN. I’m pretty sure apple crisp only requires 6 apples but what if my neighbors want some? It would be nice to be the chick who bakes apple crisp for the whole goddamn neighborhood. I needed two things. I was literally just here. My fridge is full. My arms are full. I should, in theory, be ALL SET. Instead, I am dashing up and down aisles collecting all of …

Body Armor.

I had a conversation with friends a few nights ago (over real apps) about dating apps, and can I be honest? I hate them. I’m not built for them. Do I respect some people’s affinity for them? Yes. Have I tried them? Yes. Are they amusing? Yes. Mostly because when you come across someone who is hopefully a doctor (but presumably Dexter) literally performing open heart surgery in their main picture, you have to laugh at the idea of swiping left or right based on your initial reaction. Which, by the way is, “What in the actual living hell is this?” But I finally realized what’s missing from all that swiping and double tapping garbage that we’ve allowed present day dating standards to convince us we depend on for human interaction. Eye contact. At a yoga festival recently (sup Wildvibes!), in the closing ceremony, they asked us to hold hands with a stranger and look them in the eyes for a few minutes. No words. No laughing. Just two softened sets of eyes showing up for …

RENEGADE JAMS: INSTALLMENT II

Installment II of Renegade Jams is here! Still deciding if I want to keep up with the Roman Numerals in the title. Seems cool I guess? But I know I’m going to have to start Googling the shit out of them after 5 or 6, so we’ll see. In case you’re new to this series, each week I’ll feature 5 songs I can’t stop jamming to, complete with the entire playlist below. I’ll be adding to this playlist weekly, in the event that you’d like to subscribe & rock out alongside me. (Do it!) And as promised, the 5 songs from the last installment are of course still on there. If you have any suggestions, let me know in the comments! Let’s play. #6 “Things That I Regret” by Brandi Carlile I saw Brandie Carlile live a few months ago and let me just say…This woman slays on stage. She’s the real deal. Her fast tempo songs will bring you to your feet. Her slow, acoustic songs will bring you to your knees. Years ago, when my mom …

Arrive.

Turns out writing is hard when you’re heartbroken. Doing a lot of things is hard when you’re heartbroken, actually. Fundamental tasks feel like a train you keep missing, when all you want is to arrive safely at your destination. Even if your destination is eating. Or sleeping. Or showering. Or seeing people. Or seeing yourself. Seriously. Have you seen yourself, lately? You’d think nothing would clear up your own heartbreak faster than seeing the threadbare and unraveling excuse for a human you’ve become. It feels obvious each time you pass your own reflection in storefront windows. You catch yourself hunched over like your backbone is folding on itself, and with that image, you’re sure you’d have enough strength to stand up straight and sever the sadness. You’d think you’d be able to kick out the uninvited houseguest you’ve turned into inside your own mind. After all, it’s YOUR brain. YOU live there. You’re certain that when all of the darkness in Pandora’s box already lives dormant underneath your eyeballs, and is re-released into the world each …