the dream

my vision board

[saltyrachel]

Make Peace With Your Past | Oaxaca, Mexico

Looking out over the ruins of Monte Alban, I’m reminded how often we chain-smoke the past without taking the time to truly breath it in.

Nothing is more humbling than witnessing an ancient civilization, where power once reigned, swept away by something even more powerful than the noblest of kings and queens: time.

We will always interpret the past through the lens of the present, trying to piece together broken artifacts to make sense of how we’ve come to be here now. 

Never fully grasping the truth of what once was.

Trying to grasp the past is like trying to catch a butterfly by its wing. 

About 1000 species of butterflies are known to live here in Oaxaca, Mexico, and I still haven’t caught a single one.

I get lost in my own past all the time. Sifting through old memories like broken glass, trying to understand how nothing seems to last forever, yet everything that’s passed on still stays with me.

Sometimes I feel like the years I spent battling depression, robbed me off my life.

Life was happening around me, and I was too lost in my own mind to witness the love and the miracles that surrounded me at the time.

But then I picture my life without those difficult experiences:

Those years spent battling severe depression, when the good days were the ones when I was able to cry myself to sleep.

The nights I would pray to God to just let me die.

This wasn’t for weeks. Or months. It was years.

Of approximately 2,190 days spent in extreme amounts of mental anguish, I would not take back a single one.

NOT A SINGLE DAY.

For each moment I have broken, there has also been a moment where I have chosen to heal.

If it weren’t for these moments of healing, of choosing to be strong, of choosing to forgive and find joy I wouldn’t be here now, with my dream job as a flight attendant, exploring the colonial buildings in this foreign city, made of green volcanic stone.

Trying fresh guacamole, laughing with new friends.

Sampling from the street vendors and artisans in the central Zócalo square.

Exploring the churches designed with a luxurious baroque interior, architecture from another time.

So we can’t rewrite the past.

And we are pressured to let go.

But maybe its not about letting go of the past.

Maybe we just need to make peace with it.

to explore the ruins and old architechture from our past, not with sorrow but with appreciation for what once was.

Pain has been my most loving teacher.

It has taught me unconditional love and empathy for ALL humans, no matter their appearance or behavior.

It has set me on a path of light, with a purpose to wake the world up from its suffering.

But first I had to know such suffering for myself.

To heal myself has been my life’s work. And in healing myself I have seen the ripple effect of light it has brought to everyone around me.

If someone tried to rewrite the pain from my past, I would feel robbed. 

Don’t let the past rob you of the present. 

But don’t allow yourself to be robbed from a full appreciation of your past

Everything that’s behind us is gone.

Time slows down in Oaxaca, Mexico. 

The pace of the city is leisured and gentle. 

The people are warm, and the atmosphere is quiet.

Oaxaca is a city where time has

is a city in central Mexico, known for its architecture, artisans, and food.

[saltyrachel]

How to Handle Rejection Like a Queen

Rejection doesn’t feel good. It’s not a back massage. It’s not a first kiss. It’s not a warm cozy blanket on a cold winter’s day. It’s rejection. It stings. It hurts. Sometimes a lot.

I’ve been in Los Angeles for about a year now trying to pursue a career as an actor. It hasn’t happened for me (yet), which means I’ve spent the last year getting rejected. A lot.

On top of that I also do beauty pageants where you are LITERALLY JUDGED BY A PANEL OF JUDGES AND THEN ONLY ONE PERSON WALKS AWAY WITH THE CROWN.

Which means one girl wins, and 99 get rejected. AFTER BEING JUDGED ON THEIR LOOKS, PERSONALITY, AND STAGE PRESENCE. Not excellent odds if you’re trying to avoid rejection.

AND I ACTUALLY DO THIS FOR FUN.

I know. I’m crazy.

On top of THAT (if that isn’t enough rejection to last one woman a lifetime) I am also in my 20’s stumbling in and out of deep infatuation as I try to find my King and life partner. Which means I do a lot of the rejecting, and I also get rejected a lot too.

True love only works once. So in the end you only “win” at love once, and the hundreds of other chances at love you encounter, end in rejection.

In fact if you’re trying to avoid rejection I would probably avoid falling in love all together. Because when love doesn’t work out it feels WAY more personal than being rejected as an actor or a beauty queen. Trust 👏🏻 me 👏🏻.

But the truth about rejection is that while it isn’t supposed to feel good, it’s never personal.

I’ll say it again for those sitting in the back: REJECTION IS NEVER PERSONAL.

Trust me. I’m a professional at it. IM SO GOOD AT IT. PLZ REJECT ME I BEG YOU.

I apologize for all of the yelling in all-caps.

Its been an emotional day...😂

Anyways...

Whether you’re auditioning for a role in a movie or a role in someone else’s life: ITS THE SAME THING. Someone has an arbitrary idea of what they are looking for, based on their personal life experiences, and you have about 30 seconds to convince them that you can play that role. Our attention spans are so short. Someone will take one look at you and then they’re on the the next thing.

But if you aren’t able to convince them that you can play the role, it doesn’t mean you couldn’t. It just means that on the day, week, or year you were supposed to do the convincing, you weren’t as convincing as you needed to be. Which often is impacted by so many factors that are out of our control.

It also doesn’t mean they are rejecting YOU, it just means that THEIR perception of you isn’t what they are picturing or expecting for that role. And often times their perception of you has much less to do with who you truly are, and more to do with how they see themselves. Another’s perception, imagination and expectation of you is something you have NO control of, and ENTIRELY varies from person to person.

I will be one judge’s idea of the perfect beauty queen, and remind another of an ex-girlfriend they would never want to see win. I will be one casting director’s idea of hilarious, and bore another entirely. I will be one man’s dream woman, and another’s nightmare.

OKAY OBVIOUSLY IM A DREAM COME TRUE TO ALL MEN EVERYWHERE SO THAT LAST ONE DOESN’T APPLY TO ME DUH.

Cough.

Anyways...

On top of that we spend so much time auditioning for roles that we wouldn’t even want to play if we actually got them. We get so focused on just trying to win and achieve SOMETHING that we don’t ask ourselves WHAT IS IT I ACTUALLY WANT?!

And WHY do I want it?!

Especially when it comes to love. 

I spent five months this year falling for a man who I believed was my dream come true. More than my dream of being an actress in LA or Miss USA or any other “role” I want to play in this lifetime. The role I wanted to play most was to be his.

Why? Because I chose to make little things about him mean a lot to me.

But I ignored the big things like HOW HE ACTUALLY TREATED ME. And HIS ACTUAL FEELINGS FOR ME.

You know... tiny details that are easily overlooked when you’re 22 and in loveeee.

I know my thirty year old self is so disappointed in me right now. 

Because I didn’t really know him, and I ignored the most important things because I loved the idea of him so much.

Im a cliche AND IM NOT ASHAMED.

I realize how many times I’ve done this same thing. Ive written movies in my head about a person, and cast him as my leading man, off a 30 second first impression.

It sounds CRAZY.

And I’m definitely a little crazy.

But not in this scenario because it’s what we all do.

We all get a little crazy when it comes to love.

At least when we’re young and naive and still brave enough to jump headfirst into it.

We fall in love with the idea of a person, often based on truth but still very incomplete information. And we hope it works out...

Even when you marry someone you’re marrying the idea of who you both want to become, because you don’t really KNOW who you’ll be in five years.

We make lifelong decisions off of split second first impressions.

And that’s just how this crazy world works.

So what do you do about it?

1. BE CLEAR ON THE ROLES IN YOUR LIFE YOU WANT TO PLAY AND THE ROLES YOU WANT FILLED

Did you actually want him? Or just someone with his sense of humor? Did you actually want to be the person he was looking for? Or did you change yourself into something you didn’t like to try to fit that role?

2. NEVER GIVE UP ON THE IDEA OF WHAT YOU WANT BUT RELEASE THE ATTACHMENT TO WHERE AND FROM WHOM IT COMES 

I want to be a comedic actor, but when I leave an audition and don’t hear anything back, I remember that I don’t have to change my dream, I just have to let go of the idea of it coming true on that one day in that one room.  

Same with love. I don’t let go of the idea of the person I loved, I just find someone who actually wants to play that role. 

3. PERFECT THE ROLE YOU WANT TO PLAY

Rejection can shine a light on the areas you may need to improve in order to fit a specific role. For example, if I want to be Miss USA I should probably stop eating tacos about 6 months before Miss California USA not 24 hours like I did this year... 

I also know that if I want to be an incredible wife to someone else someday, I should work on being an incredible wife to myself first. 

If we can set aside the pain of rejection, we can actually find the path to our dreams. 

4. REMEMBER THAT BEING REJECTED DOESN’T MAKE YOU CRAZY IT MAKES YOU BRAVE

Okay maybe a little bit crazy too. It takes a little bit of crazy bravery to believe in yourself enough to put yourself out there for your career and put your heart on the line for love. 

And when things don’t work out it’s easy to be so disappointed in yourself.

But the truth is that winning your dream role or your dream relationship isn’t a miracle, it’s a cominational of effort and timing. What IS a miracle is being just crazy brave enough to try.

[saltyrachel]

If you're going to bother with love, here's what you need to know:

Love will break you open.

No matter what.

Even if things work out, and the one you're with becomes your forever person.

It's still going to hurt.

​Because love is both surrendering to your needs and desires, and fighting for them at the same time. It is both surrendering to another person, and fighting for them all at once. 

If that sounds complicated, well you're right. It is.

Because you don't get to the place where unconditional "forever love" can live until your walls are beaten down and your heart is broken open.

Love requires vulnerability. It requires laying down the weapons and walls that protect you long enough to allow someone to come close enough that they can truly hurt you.

Keeping someone at arms distance might keep you safe, but it won't let someone in enough to love and be loved.

So the moment you start to catch feelings, you're done for.

Even if you manage to care a little less or move on a little faster than the other.

Even if you swore it wasn't love, just a warm bed and someone to talk to late at night. Because odds are your feelings slipped under the covers when you were too busy kissing to notice.

The truth is that love is basically a disaster waiting to happen.

You might as well load up your freezer with Ben and Jerry's the moment your heart takes a pause for a second too long, looking into the eyes of another as you pull back from a kiss that you felt all the way to your bones.

If you're going to bother with love, you have to face the fact that even if you claim you've never felt it, it might simply be that you've never known love well enough to call it what it was.

Because love is not just romance and grand gestures. Love is also the moments of quiet joy, selfless care, and friendship that go unnoticed. Love is not just butterflies. It's also hurting, knowing that the one beside you is hurting too.

No matter how many ways you try to protect yourself from love, it will find you. And if you entertain it for even a moment, it will break you, and it will change you.

So if you're going to bother with love you might as well give it everything you have.

You might as well lean into the uncertainty, and leap with faith into the challenges it will bring. You might as well welcome the emotions that sometimes feel more like a rollercoaster off its tracks.

You might as well put your hands up and surrender because no matter what, trying to cling on to your guardrail won't stop you from hitting the pavement when you fall.

You might as well love like its your forever person, even if they haven't promised you they are.

You might as well try.

​And you might as well try with everything you have.

Even if it fails. And fails again.

Because one day, when you find your forever, you'll have the peace of mind to know that you gave love the benefit of the doubt from the beginning.

Because it's better to be wrong about your forever love, than to miss love forever because you were too afraid to let yourself fall.

[saltyrachel]

Sometimes I feel undateable.

Sometimes I feel undateable.  

"Undateable." 

One of those leftover words from that time when my mind short-circuited from pain, and spewed those tar soaked words all day long.

Those tar soaked words filled the crevices of my brain and my heart and leaked out of my eyes at night. 

Those words came from a story my mind was writing without me. 

In front of me, reality was happening. I was thirteen coming home every night to a big beautiful house that was completely empty. My father had left without a word, with only a few boxes showing he had ever been there at all. My mother and I crossed paths infrequently and when we did she was a shadow of the person I remembered. My brother had left to college.  By the time I was sixteen I was sleeping on friends couches or in my car when I was too ashamed to ask for safe shelter. These were the facts. The facts were that these were just people doing the best they could with where they were at the time. Maybe it wasn't good enough, but it was their best, and it most importantly it wasn't my fault.

It wasn't my fault. 

But the silent author inside me wrote a different story. One where I had caused this. Where the fault I truly found in my family was in myself. It was my own deficiencies that had caused it. If I hadn't been too stupid and unloveable and fat and ugly, maybe my dad would call and my mom would remember how to smile and my brother could sleep at night without worrying. I ached to feel unconditional love, but it all felt conditional. And I had failed to live up to love's conditions. I didn't meet it's high standards.

That feeling of unworthiness led to me constantly trying to prove my worth. It's as if deep down I knew it wasn't true that I was undeserving, but I felt I had to prove it.

Men became the source of that validation. And as I realized my own physical presence as a sexual being, I felt as if I had figured it out the ultimate shortcut to validation. Feeling desired served as a lovely bandaid to feeing loved, respected, and honored. It still  does.  Love takes time, but desire is involuntary. So I chose the men that desired me over the ones that wanted to take the time to get to know me. The ones who could have truly loved me.

I created my own reality. Just like I had planned I proved something to myself for sure, but it wasn't my worth. I was manifesting my insecurities. 

I handed my heart over begging for it to be healed, but I didn't hand it to a healer, I handed it to those who only wanted to handle me.  And the wounds ran deeper. The tar thicker.

As I've learned to rewrite my story. I've cleaned out the trenches and light has come back in. I've begun to see my parents for what they are, as humans and not God's. I've never felt more love or understanding for my family than I do today. I love them SO much.

I've seen myself for what I am, both a grown woman and a small child.

A child who has known neglect and abandonment and misuse of many kinds, who has made wrong choices not knowing where to turn. Survival instincts.

And a grown woman who is full of empathy, kindness, and a desire to fully love. Who has shown great strength of character to always course correct, when I would have every justification to be as selfish and cruel as I've been treated.

But I didn't. I've always chosen love.  

And there is that desire to love we speak of. The desire to have my own family. The desire to show up every day and speak kind words and stand by the bad days and wake up every day to see love, give love, receive love. 

That intention has shaped me into the person I am today. Even though it has been born from pure blind faith.

When I feel as if I've been unfaithful, I remind myself of the faith I've had to have to believe in a life I've only read about in books and seen in movies. To believe enough to become a woman worthy of it. 

But i'll have moments where I see that future as truly possible, within my grasp. I step from blind faith to actual belief.

In those moments, the word "undateable" returns.

Wheb I start to feel that love, and see the possibility of receiving it, fear returns. The tar trickles in.  

I think of the mistakes I've made. The times I've been told I was too slutty to ever deserve a good guy. Too immodest. Too sensual.

I think of the loneliness I've felt. Nights spent alone when most people were eating dinner with their family.  Nights spent alone in a hospital in excruciating pain, a time when no one should ever have to be alone, but I was.  

And I feel completely undateable.

My walls come up and I push people away, proving to myself how undateable I truly am.

And I create that reality for myself.

The silent author strike again, writing the ending that I feared most, as if it hurts less because I'm the one who wrote it.

 And I realize, that as much as I've grown and changed and healed and learned to love and forgive. There is only so much that self love can do, but if self love can only do one thing for myself, it is to learn from my mistakes and to hand my heart over to my healer.

To try to view God as more than my parents, but as God. To trust in an unseen unconditional love. And to have faith that my brokenness is a story, a lie, written by a silent author. 

And in handing my heart to my healer; my pen to my savior; He will rewrite my endings and cross out the silent author's chapters where happily ever after wasn't possible.

He will turn undateable into unbroken.

Unbroken into unconditional.

And the last word, 

on the last page. 

will be

love. 

[flowerais-deactivated20211031]

things to pay attention to

the tiny specks of colour in their eyes

the bass and background sounds in a song

starlight on a cloudy night

how someone looks when they think nobody can see them

the mannerisms of a stranger

real meanings behind spoken words

subtle facial expressions which last a second

the underlying flavours in food

emotions that a friend is trying to hide

little lights in a sleeping city

flowers growing through cracks in the pavement

the mixed colour palette in a piece of art

the melody of someone’s voice

[anthony-samaniego]

retrograde instagram

[anthony-samaniego]

cyan wine instagram

[thebeautifulwordlist]

Belgard

Noun

(bel-gärd)

1. Obsolete. a loving look.

Origin: From Italian bel guardo.

“Upon her eyelids many Graces sate, / Under the shadow of her euen browes, / Working belgards, and amorous retrate […]. - Edmund Spenser, The Faerie Queene

[anthony-samaniego]

i’m good, i’m good, i’m great instagram

[anthony-samaniego]

blk fri instagram

[saltyrachel]

one day in nashville

[anthony-samaniego]

mintscape instagram

[saltyrachel]

How to Move Through a Breakup.

Notice I didn't say  "get over." I said move through. Because a break-up isn't a fallen tree branch you hurtle over, it's a flash flood you must wade through to get to dry ground.

Perhaps you've heard the saying "you never step in the same river twice" because the water is different water than the last time, and you are a different person than the last time. Which leads me to remind you that no two breakups are the same, and you will be a different person when you emerge on the other side. And this will be a different experience than your last breakup.

And that's okay. 

I like to keep my writings honest, it's kind of the only thing that keeps these sporadic thoughts linked: vulnerability and radical honesty. And so in the salty spirit of being both vulnerable and radically honest, I am hurting. There's this place in my chest that's gone tight and while I keep my days busy, that space in my heart becomes throbbing at night. You see, a really beautiful love story, perhaps the loveliest I've known so far, has come to an end.  

Usually I wait until everything is over before I  write, about it but I thought "perhaps I'm not the only person out there grieving the loss of love, perhaps it would be kind for the broken hearted to know that 'Hi, I'm in this with you too."

With the pain, there has been an overwhelming sense of peace, and so I would like to share the three things that have brought that peace to me.

1. Create a Break-Up Journal

Every time my hand itches to pick up my phone and call my ex, whether to share good news or pathetically cry about how much I miss him, instead I gracefully sit my phone down, and write in here...

It's given me a lot of peace to be able to express all of the kind words there were not time for, the plans I have moving forward, and the aches I feel when I know those plans will no longer involve him.

2. Love Harder

When my ex told me he felt at peace and a sense of relief now that we've parted ways, it actually made me feel better. You see, saying  "I love you," commits you to live in such a way that makes that love true. When you truly love someone, their happiness becomes yours. So when they decide that parting ways will bring them more joy, you can honor that love by wanting greater happiness for them than you can offer. Turning to hate will only hurt you, turning to jealousy will not injure anyone besides yourself. Loving harder is the only way to truly heal.

3. Victory over Vices

When my heart hurts, my first inclination is to make the pain stop. We have so many ways in which we try to numb the ache of loss, and I am no exception to that. My first instinct is to numb and to numb as quickly as possible. Whatever your vice is, it will find you when you're hurting.  Drinking, drugs, sex, sleep, pornography, food, shopping; there are as many vices as there are people in the world that provide a sensation of numbness in which the pain subsides. But only for a moment. Vices disconnect you from pain and peace at the same time. These things only impede your own growth when used as medication. And the most peace has come by seeking things that have been  proven by so many cultures and beliefs to bring you peace. Prayer, meditation, yoga, journaling, exercise, spending time with good friends, spending time alone, good food, late night phone calls, pampering yourself with a massage or pedicure, focusing on your careers. The truth is for every vice that will only hurt you, there are paths of virtue that lead to peace.

And peace is yours to be had, because a lost love is simply a door to learn how to love better next time.

Next time always comes. 

[saltyrachel]

What would Jesus do if He was cat-called ?

When I was a little girl my parents taught me that when I didn't know what to do I could ask myself "What would Jesus do?"

This question has guided me throughout my life to always try to love better. But sometimes the answer hasn't always been clear.

Like today.

As I walked into my apartment building, two homeless men sat outside cat calling women as they passed by, myself included.

Time and time again I've found myself in situations where men have made me feel unsafe, this particular moment was hardly even a drop in the ocean compared to other stories I have.

In the past I've gotten angry, hurt, or worst of all: silent. 

I walked inside to find my roommate calling the cops on them, shaken by their aggressive comments.

Suddenly and surprisingly, the childhood thought popped into my mind:

"What would Jesus do?"

I found myself instantly frustrated by this thought because Jesus was probably never sexually harassed on the streets. And then out of no where, a small thought popped into my mind:

"Teach."

Jesus would teach.

I walked back outside, got in my car, pulled up next to the two men and firmly but kindly said these words:

"I just wanted to warn you that someone in our building has called the cops on you. I don't want you getting into trouble, but it's not appropriate the way you are talking to women, calling after them and such. I'm sure you mean well but it can make women feel uncomfortable."

I did not feel angry, I did not feel afraid, I was not silent. 

I felt love.

They have looked at me for a moment and then one of the men apologized and said,

"Thank you for the reminder. Sometimes I have to check myself."

The other sank his head into his hands saying,

"'m not a good man." 

To which I replied,

"I'm sure you have good in you."

They thanked me and left

Christ, the ultimate man-symbol of love, teaches me daily what it means to follow Him. It means to become a stronger woman.

And sometimes He teaches me that women can teach men too.

[saltyrachel]

You are here to love, and to be loved.

The past few months have been so beautiful, but also filled with so much confusion and darkness. Today I am reminded that in every season of our life there is a lesson to be learned.

I've felt so lost and unsure, making decisions that seem "out of charachter" of the charachter I had set for myself at some point.

Taking acting classes in LA has taught me a lot about "characters" and in how in all truth, we are always acting. We always have this description of the role we are to play and how we relate to the surrounding world. And we act according to the charachter we believe ourself to be.

But the difference between real life and movies is that we are not a single story, we are not one charachter, but in each charachter we see portrayed in stories we see an aspect of ourself reflected back to us.

All light and all darkness that we perceive in the world around us, also lives within us. There is a piece of each of us that is a saint, an angel, an explorer and a servant, and another that is an adict, a thief or a liar

I've come to find pieces of the people I dislike the most in the world, are also in myself. 

But it has taught me more about love than I have ever known before. As I come to see the humanness in all of us, I grow in compassion for others, and especially in compassion for myself. 

Because the truth is, whatever darkness you may contain, it does not define you.

We are not defined by our bodies, our money, our friends, our vices or addictions, our selflessness or our selfishness, our sainthood or our sins. 

You worth is eternal. Your beauty is eternal. The love you are capable of giving and receiving is eternal. 

Almost everything on this earth will one day turn to dust, the only thing that we can truly leave a legacy of is love. 

And that begins within, by first recognizing that no matter who you are or where you've come from, what you have or don't, what you've done or have not done,

You are a beautiful spirit child, walking upon an earth inside a body that was created for you to grow and learn and most of all to love and be loved.

And you already are. 

With this knowledge, the question we must ask is how will we move forward offering the world our divne and inherent light?

How will you?

 Love,

Salty Rachel

[saltyrachel]

Where do you call home?

We are spirits housed in bodies, with eyes for windows. Never have I seen so clearly then when our eyes met, and I looked out my window into yours. There you were underneath all your walls, and I knew that home wasn't a place we lived, but a person we loved. And for that gift of understanding, I am grateful.

When I packed up my things and set off on a new adventure, I wasn't sad to leave the things I couldn't bring, or all my old haunts and stomping grounds. I was sad to leave the shelter I've found in the people I've called home.

But leaving home isn't always what we think it is.

Sometimes you don't have to leave to feel the distance. I felt homeless that summer night I saw only pupils, where his passion used to be.

But as my friends helped me pack up my things to go follow my dreams, with "good lucks" and goodbye kisses, I learned that sometimes distance doesn't have to mean you've left home behind at all.

So where do you call home? 

Or should I ask, whom? 

[saltyrachel]

If I can't love you, here's what I'll do instead.

If I can't have your heart, I will leave it better than I found it. If I can't call you mine, I will prepare you for her. Somewhere out there, is a heart that was made just for me. And right now he might be in the arms of someone else. Each night I pray that whoever she is, she is treating you gently. I pray that she is teaching you how to trust, be vulnerable, be selfless, be kind. So out of love for you, and love for the "her" that is shaping you for me, I will treat each "him" that isn't you, accordingly. I will be someone trustworthy, vulnerable, selfless, and kind, so that whichever girl you were made for doesn't have to hate the girl that hurt you. If I can't give you love, I will at least give you faith that when you are ready, somebody will.

Love, 

Salty Rachel

[saltyrachel]

pay your rent or lose your place

Sit back, close your eyes, and imagine that you are the proud homeowner of a gorgeous colonial mansion. It has a history, a story. Part of it was burned down by a forgotten candle many years before but you’ve spent the last few years renovating it “The Notebook” style. It’s majestic, with quartz counters and fine wood floors. Ivory statues and an art collection worth millions. You’ve repaired the cracks and painted the walls. You’ve put a lot of energy, effort, and money into this house, and it’s paid off. You’re delighted by what you’ve accomplished, you’ve restored its original value, and you’re ready to rent it out or sell it if you could find someone who would pay what it was worth.

Along comes a man, and he’s ecstatic. He’s dreamt about a house like this his whole life. He doesn’t even bother looking at the other houses he was planning on seeing that day. He wants to buy it immediately but doesn’t have enough credit history, so instead you both agree to let him rent for a while. You ask him about his rental history and he sheepishly tells you that he’s actually never stayed in a place for more than three months, but it’s simply because he’s always known a house like this was out there. You’re a little skeptical, but he’s so excited and convinced that this is the house he’s always been looking for, so you debate whether you should give it a shot. After all, once upon a time someone let you sign a lease without any previous history or references. So what the hell. He doesn’t want to let the opportunity get away, so he puts down a deposit immediately, in fact it’s double what you asked for plus the first month’s rent and you’re both really excited. 

A month goes by, and things are good. You notice he’s taken a fancy towards gardening and has planted a few fruit trees in the back yard. 

But then it’s time for him to pay the rent again, and you can tell he’s somehow a little less excited than last time. Which is understandable because it’s not like it’s normal to be as stoked as he initially was to pay rent. It’s just a part of life. It’s just something you do if you want shelter and a warm place to sleep at night. That first payment was just the excitement of something new. Now you are settling into “normal.”

Or so you think.

Over the next few months, the payments start coming later and later, until suddenly they aren’t coming at all anymore. You’re calling, texting, but the most you will get is the occasional Venmo of $100 with “sorry I’m busy and exhausted, more will come when i’m not too tired.”

Wait, what? Too tired? Too tired to pay rent?

This is such a ridiculous excuse for such a basic human agreement that you can’t help but cry with laughter as you drive over to the property with a cop beside you ready to evict your crazy tenant that is “too tired” to pay rent. It’s hilarious. Also a bummer because you’ll have to look for a new tenant. But mostly just hilarious. 

You notice some wear and tear on the inside of the house, but theres a beautiful orchard now blooming from the trees he planted. You allocate some of his initial deposit towards fixing it up, you cut your losses and move on. 

Now open your eyes.

Suddenly you realize that entire story was not a story, but a memory.

Except instead of a house, it was your heart.

You’ve have a story, you’ve been hurt before. You’ve made your fair share of mistakes,  but you’ve spent the last few years focusing on improving yourself. A lot has changed, you feel like a new person. Your smile comes naturally, and your confidence comes with ease. You’ve repaired the cracks and painted the walls, and you’re delighted by the things you've accomplished. You’re ready to let someone in again, if they can treat you the way you deserve.

Along comes a man, he meets you and he’s ecstatic. He says he’s dreamt about a girl like you his whole life. He tells you how into you he is. He even talks about marrying you but you’ve only just met so you both decide to do the sensible thing and date for a while. You ask him about his dating history, and he sheepishly tells you that he’s never actually dated a girl for more than three months, but it’s simply because “it’s never been a deep enough connection.” You’re a little skeptical, but he’s so excited and convinced that this is is right, and the truth is so are you. After all, once upon a time someone let you into their heart on a whim and it was worth it. So what the hell. He doesn’t want to let the opportunity get away, so he calls you his girl and buys you flowers and takes you on a really fun date just to show how into you he truly is.

A month goes by, and things are good. You notice something growing in your heart. Love for him, and love for yourself.

But as the months go buy, the dates and the flowers and start to fade. He’s clearly less excited than he was at the beginning. Which is understandable because the honeymoon stage is a real thing. But romance is the rent he pays for the shelter of your hair as you lean over his face, ready to gently kiss his forehead. Romance is the rent he pays for your warm head and freezing cold feet pressed against his, when you both awake in the morning. Romance is the rent he pays for the room in your heart. 

And even as the honeymoon phase ends, and you settle into normal, normal life is still paying your damn rent even if it's less exciting than the first day you found the heart of your dreams. 

But as time goes on, slowly you get the leftovers of his time and the distant scraps of his attention. He doesn't call or text except with the occasional “sorry I’m busy and exhausted, more will come when i’m not too tired.”

Wait, what? Too tired? Too tired for what exactly?

Too tired to kiss, or play, or curl up watching a movie? 

This is such a ridiculous excuse for such a basic aspect of human relationships, but instead of reasonably laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation, you cry. You drive to meet him with tears pouring down your cheeks, preparing for things to end with the man you loved. The man who was too tired to love you back.

And it’s not hilarious. It’s heartbreaking.

But you take his initial deposit of pure love, back from the beginning when he saw your worth, your beauty, your value, and you use it to repair the wear and the tear he left behind after he was gone.

And the trees he planted in your heart of love for him, and love for yourself, are now a nice place to lean against as you write in your journal on a sunny day. 

And instead of anger or sadness, you feel gratitude. 

And the gratitude restores your heart to its original condition. Your smile comes naturally again,  and your confidence comes with ease once more.

You’re ready to let someone in again.

And ready or not, here he comes.