You Know When You Ask Yourself The 'hard' Questions And It Turns Out That You Don't Even Have An Answer

What's better than discovering a new song or a new artist at the most opportune time? Like the universe granting you something to accompany you on whatever journey you're on then-- let's say you're falling in love, all giddy and you happen upon a love song or to my sad babies just finding a new song to be sad to right in the moment?!!

Tough love.

What comes to mind when you think of tough love? Maybe you've been lucky enough to have been tough-loved the right way. I on the other hand can't deny that it works, but at what cost? At what cost? How high is the price paid? Why can't we lovingly teach, mentor or lead?

If tough love is what I've known it to be up to this point, I want no more. I want no parts in it. All it's ever done is break my heart, shatter my spirit. For me it's been outright cruelty disguised as 'tough love', so excuse me while I get the hell away from it. It's harmed me more than it has helped me.

I needed tender, warm, soft love to bloom and flourish but they were more focused on giving me a spine of steel. They used a staff whereas I just needed a hand to hold. I see all the ways I might've turned out different. And I know, I know this might just be a life lie but you can't deny I would've turned out different. I think for the better, they thought for the worse.

All of that shit they did, that they explained away as 'tough love': 'we're only trying to help you, you'll see', 'we only want what's best for you', 'you'll appreciate this', 'we care because we love you' or 'we wouldn't do this if we didn't love you'. Tell me why 'this', why 'care', why 'love', why 'best' was abusive? Verbal, physical, emotional abuse. Tell me it wasn't manipulative?

Now anytime someone says, "tough love" to me, my breath hitches I tense up, readying myself for hurtful shit. And if I am this way, am I gonna be receptive to what they're gonna be saying or trying to get across? Is what they're referring to as tough love a guise for abuse and cruelty? Do they sound accusatory? What measures do they resort to? Do they believe that tough love is the only way there is?

And maybe, just maybe, sometimes we do need tough love. Just remember it isn't whatever that is, that leaves you questioning your existence; whatever that is, that breaks your spirit, hurts you, leaves you crying. And no, you can't tell me that someone who cares about you or your wellbeing doesn't have the capacity to not be cruel to you. Doesn't have the capacity to be firm but gentle with you, which is what tough love should be.

You know when you watch people doing something and they make it look so effortless? And it's so zen and so aesthetically pleasing? But when you try to do the same thing, following the exact same steps it's all fireworks and bombs going off, frustration, perspiration?!! Everything is just off, nowhere near zen 🤦🤦

Give yourself a fighting chance!

for so long I have fought myself, being an all or nothing girlie. I am a perfectionist and if I couldn't do it perfectly then guess what? it wasn't getting done and that was that.

fast-forward to now and I don't swing from one extreme to another. I have found things that help me. find ways to make whatever is holding you back work for you!

I don't let my perfectionism hold me back. if I see that I want to quit something because it's not going the way I want it to or it's not turning out exactly as I want it to- I have stopgaps in place instead of giving in to my tendencies.

if I have a goal, I will research and break it down to the nitty gritty. I will do all the due diligence. I will take it step by step. I would rather "waste my time" researching and planning, I would it takes me longer to achieve a goal thar could be achieved Ina lesser amount of time, I would rather feel like it's tedious at the beginning. but this is much better at ensuring I follow through. and taking a year to achieve a goal I could've achieved in 3 months is way better than quitting cold turkey and never finding out.

embracing my quirks gives me a fighting chance. embracing ≠ giving in to them

so instead of quitting or procrastinating because I want whatever to turn out perfect I 'perfect away'. I give myself a fighting chance.

I'm also trying to unlearn the conditioning and trying to change my beliefs around it. in the meantime I do the best I can.

Our incompatibility is in no way a reflection of your worthiness.

If you could just understand that a NO, a rejection is more "we're just not compatible" more than it's a measure of your worth--

I've always wondered why we take it so poorly when someone rejects us but I'm realizing it's because most of the time we're attaching our worth to it. 'The fact that they don't wanna be with me must mean I'm unworthy, I'm not enough, I could have done more, could have done better' and a myriad more excuses of us trying to come to terms with it.

This is not to mean that we can't save some of our connections by doing better, or being better. It's just that there are times we put our whole being on the line, do the best we can but at some point we have to accept that maybe we just aren't compatible. We're not in alignment. And in no way is it a reflection of your worth.

I LOVE love it when my friends keep and hold me accountable. It's seriously so 🥺🥺. Like you see me, you want me to flourish, you care that I'm doing this life thing right, you want the best for me?!! And they do it ooh so gently. How amazing is it? 'kay bye, imma cry 😭😭

Have a friend that you genuinely love and you're always excited to tell all that's going on with/in your life? Relationships, work, new beginnings etc but you notice everytime you tell them whatever it was never works out?

so dreamy - new music to discover, always! new books to get lost in, so many books!! I have not met all the people who will love me!! ooh look a new favorite!! broadening horizons, perspective shifts!! ooh wait, floral perfumes aren't actually that bad, I just needed to find one that hit the spot!! look at all this beauty around me!!

I am a canvas and every moment a brush stroke!

i think about this very often to but to be alive is such a privilege. you can smell flowers, eat freshly baked cookies, lose yourself in the pages of a new book, listen to heartwarming music and read soul crushing poetry, meet kind and funny people, learn something new. i think the miracle is in waking up every day

A dying friendship looks like, 'hey, I have all this heavy stuff that you would help me carry and now I don't know where to put it down. I don't know how to carry any of it and I'm suffocating from the weight of it all'

Looks like, 'who am I supposed to tell about this heartbreak, you were my sounding board and now I don't know what to do'

Also all this happiness that I would share with you? It's all turning sour in me now. It was yours and until I figure out how to give it elsewhere it's no good. 'I met this guy-, tell me, tell me- you'd squeal from the other end' The chatter, the banter, the arguments, the quarrels I treasured all the moments and now there's none of that. Just a cavernous yawning.

Whenever I felt out of it you were there to hold my hand and get me through the murky waters. When I felt like crying you were just a text away, now my messages go unanswered for days. I don't even tell you when I'm crying anymore. I don't know how to exist in this new world that you're not a part of.

It's being so lost, so so lost. It's crying alone. It's carrying the hurt and pain alone. It's not knowing what to do. It's tentatively calling or sending a text and keeping my fingers crossed that it won't be 5 days till I hear from you. It's going to sleep anticipating your text. It's waking up praying that things would have gone back to a version of normal. That I would wake up to your dorky smile. It's hoping to see you in my notifications.

It's the not knowing when to stop trying. It's the brutal haemorrhage, hope is no worthy opponent to the violence, the bleeding just won't stop.

It's hoping and hoping and hoping some more. Maybe this is the one. Maybe if I send you this wholesome thing I saw that reminded me of you, you will be reminded of what we once shared. Maybe if I send you this funny meme you will remember how happy we once were. Maybe if I send you a song, oh wait we never shared the same taste in music so I can't even send you this song I know would convey just what I'm feeling, just what I hope for, you won't listen long enough to get the message behind it. Maybe if I send you a picture of us together you'll be transported into a memory.

Was it good? What we had, what we shared? Wasn't it magical? A daydream.

Only it was real. Only I lived it. Only I saw it. Only I touched it. Only I smelled it. Only I got to experience it. Only there's still pockets of it stored in my head. Only there's memories and pictures and letters and witnesses and momentos. All this reminders.

Proof I didn't dream it all up. I could wake up from this nightmare I am trapped in now if I could.

Only it's really happening. You're slipping right through my fingers, like I slipped right from your heart. All the clawing and kicking to hold on did no good. Barely left a mark. I can't reach you.

I only have this crumbs that you lay at my feet every now and then when you fancy. And it's disgusting how my whole being lights up at that. Even when I figure you're doing me a disservice.

Where did it all go wrong? I did everything I could and more. Why wasn't it enough? You only had to ask and I would have done even more.

When I'm drawn to be judgemental and snarky I take a deep breath and remember to be a lil bit compassionate. I'm not always successful and say some things I probably shouldn't but it's the grace I'd love everyone else to have in my regard. So I keep trying.