may the desires of your heart be yours.

hi. i’m xy. i’m twenty four.

[x-za]

ah. so that’s what it’s like being the pretty girl at the bar, huh?

[x-za]

i wish i could properly articulate how disgusting cat calling makes me feel.

i already have a hard time with attention in public. i don’t like to be confronted, noticed, or singled out. the thought of it is currently making my stomach churn. i really hate the feeling of other people bearing witness to what’s happening to me, even when i convince myself that nobody cares because they’re only focused on themselves. 

when things like this happen to me, i always wish these moments were between just them and i. no witnesses. even if it turned out for the worst, i’d readily die alone if it meant nobody would see my suffering, my mortification, my disadvantage. 

it just leaves me feeling embarrassed. small. sick. 

but here’s what i want to shift in my mindset this time. just because someone thinks of me improperly and disrespectfully doesn’t mean that i deserve to be thought of or even treated that way. that is not who i am and who i know myself to be. the way others see me and think of me is none of my business; i don’t have to take that on. what i know about myself matters most. what people i care about know about me matters. everything else is just noise. 

[x-za]

i might read damn near 100 books this year because my list of books i’ve wanted to read is so damn long. but i’m so excited. i read like 8 books last year—child’s play. i’m going to have fun and learn so much this year.

[insomniac-arrest]

getting over the fear of being bad is so fucking hard… like, it’s literally a super power if you can start something and say ‘it doesn’t matter if it’s bad, it just matters that it exists’

‘bad’ is so terrifying, ‘bad’ is wrecking, and the ability to apply self-compassion to things deemed ‘bad’ is beyond amazing, to understand not everything in life will be ‘good’ and that’s okay

essays, art, novels, school, relationships, anyone out there starting things when they are terrified of the arbitrary metric of the result… I am so fucking proud of you, you are so brave and strong

keep starting new things, even if ‘bad’ is a possibility 

[oscar-still-wildin]

a toast, to all the things I became and all the things I did not.

[mythwoven]

Alternate universe where I literally just to go to school forever (for free) so I can just learn about art and literature and history and languages for 100 years. No job skills. No credit requirements. No student loans. Just learning.

[urbanxdivinity]

What pleases u in bed?

sleep

[x-za]

i’m leisurely writing a book. selfishly writing a book and appropriately titling it something to the effect of “in case i die too early” because i don’t want to surrender to the tragedy of my future families not knowing me.

sadly—regrettably, now, but with time it may not be—i might never know my parents. the chasm contains an unforgiving abyss. there is so much lost time. i’m preparing for the worst by giving my best. i’m an anxious, dramatic person, but there is room in my heart for us. i’ll turn it inside out and you’ll see.

[x-za]

as much as my relationship with my mom is estranged and seemingly irreparable, i’ve been more thoughtful and considerate of how it’d feel to be her.

to raise me and see me recoil at the smallest attempt to get close to me. to not know where my wounds are or where they came from, nevertheless feeling the sting of each laceration on her own skin as if they were her fault. truthfully, some of them are. to feel a veil ripped, a cord severed, upon learning i am the cause of her pain despite my best efforts to make her strong enough to bear it. in a world full of pain—i just wanted her to be great. she bears it at the cost of us.

it makes me sad—what kind of daughter am i to my mother in the interest of my own self-preservation? is it worth it? is my peace worth it? am i worth it?

[x-za]

i think i’ve read three or four books this year? i just finished one and wasn’t too thrilled with it; i’m happy it ended the way i wanted it to, but it was hard for me to enjoy the reading experience. i wasn’t a fan of the characterization or the style of writing, but i understand the purpose behind those choices. i finished the book because i felt like i had to. onto the next!

[x-za]

there are always new craters being formed by my hands.

soft lands, soft hands

hard lands, hard hands

these new territories are mine to conquer

i’ve decided

there is no room for emptiness here.

victory, loss, life, death

they already feel like home

there are stories, love, heritage, a future

strength

above all

in the soil of my soul.

i’ll bury myself here.

it’s the last thing i’ll do.

[gnetophyte]

that “oooo” when someone got In Trouble in elementary school… that was a greek chorus

[x-za]

i love reading fiction. yeah maybe it’s not “real” or sometimes even remotely realistic, but it’s so human. people write what they know best. people put the deepest parts of themselves into words meant to mean something to more than just themselves. there is so much depth built into these intangible worlds. there is so much permission to be honest about ourselves and the world we live in, even if the one constructed with words isn’t real. i love that about fiction.

i started a really good book today and am nearly seventy percent finished with it. i’ve been reading for maybe five hours total. i love how fun and enjoyable reading is. it’s as familiar and nostalgic as remembering my first love—i’m immersed in the softness and romance of my adolescence. i’m still the kid who stayed inside all summer break, reading myself into afternoon naps and waking up at dusk just to read some more. these feelings make me so excited, and i’m so happy to feel more like myself.

anyway. reading for fun is good for my well-being, i’ve learned. read whatever you want as long as it makes you happy. i hope it makes you happy. :-)

[x-za]

i’m not where i want to be in my life. i don’t even really know where that satisfaction would be, what it would look like. but i appreciate where i am now because now is the best time to figure it out.

all i know is that i’m happy being the best i can be where i am now.

[oscar-still-wildin]

oh you’re a writer? how’s doing everything you can to avoid writing going?

[x-za]

“being an adult” takes so much fucking energy. i put off so many tasks because of my anxiety even though accomplishing them would significantly reduce my anxiety and improve my wellbeing.

they’re almost stupid simple tasks too. scheduling appointments, calling about the status of annuitant pay (still! even though my dad’s been dead 4 years, the fuck), planning, budgeting, planning nutrition, grocery shopping, laundry, training... making sure i check most, if not all, my boxes for the day...

i hate doing these things, lol. but no one can take care of me in this way but me.

i remember being in college and talking to my mom about what a pain in the ass it was to constantly communicate with different agencies regarding my father’s passing. i was legally an adult so i could no longer rely on my mom to make those phone calls for me. she just told me what she always did throughout my childhood: “that’s the way it is,” with a newly added, “you’re an adult now--you have to do it.”

i hate that she’s right and i hate the sharp ring of finality i hear in my head every single time i remember her words. none of it makes me feel better. it just fills me up to my eyeballs with dread. yes, maybe grimness and grayness of adulthood are supposed to. maybe that’s just the way things will always be.

nevertheless, i need to “parent my inner child.” i’m never going to stop feeling my feelings and that’s okay. that inner child might never “grow up,” and i might need to constantly heal the hurt from both the past and the present. parenting myself just means i can’t let my feelings deter me from accomplishing what i want and need to. being a parent to myself when i feel small is an important precedent to establish for myself as someone who anticipates motherhood. i need to be able to advocate for them, to do the best i can for them despite what we both may feel. even though there’s discomfort, frustration, and sometimes helplessness, nothing is impossible. the outcome is worth the discomfort. there is light at the end of the tunnel. 

[x-za]

hi.

i’m reading and writing again. i feel more like myself again.

i’m deeply considering changing my field to health, fitness, and healthcare. i only slightly regret majoring in education. i know i will be back for this part of me. this isn’t goodbye.

i’m trying not to shame myself for not living in the same paradigm as my parents, who stayed committed to a single career, content with making the same choices every day. i’m trying to embrace all directions my head and my heart are called to go. there will be too much unfulfilled purpose otherwise.

i’m bodybuilding. i pushed my show date until november so i can truly stop fucking around and get my mental space right. my relationship with food has improved a lot, but i know i still have room to improve. it’s a sport i want to respect and represent well. it’s taking a lot to focus on myself instead of shifting the blame to external factors. i am responsible for myself at the end of the day. my choices have been, are, and will always be the will of my own heart. the actions of my own heart will be what everyone else sees on my body, in my eyes. i need to always keep this in mind, every day. it’s hard but i deserve the outcomes of my goal. i deserve to win. i deserve what i dream to accomplish. i deserve to achieve my desires. i deserve to be proud instead of ashamed.

i’m determined to help my in-laws reach their health goals. i’ll be damned if my kids grow up with my mom as their only grandparent. they’ve already lost one grandpa. i don’t want them living without knowing the family who came before them.

i miss my dad the most whenever i mourn the moments i can no longer enjoy with him. i mourn him again when i experience another milestone without him. i mourn him again when i see pieces of his heart scattered through an island he’s never seen, but it would feel just as familiar to him as his homeland if he ever had the chance to meet it. i mourn the joy i feel in my life, the joy i wish i could share with him, the joy i believe he deserved. i mourn justice with every twinge of resentment. i mourn consciously, presently, purposefully, feeling the intensity that builds my lungs into a chimney. a solid, narrow funnel of thick, hazy smoke the color of freshly ground pepper. i struggle to breathe. i always do. i still make it out alive—alive and thankful to be here.

feeling all that i feel, knowing the little that i know, i let things go. i let things be. i go in the direction of my peace. that is my choice now and my promise to myself for the future.