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Thursday 12:19 am

Spring semester has begun and I am thinking that this is doable! I can care for my very sick bed bound 83 year old momma with all her ailments…complete 9 units of upper division coursework and work a job all with a constant headache! It is midnight right now and I just finished changing her wet diaper. She barely helped at all so I had to roll her to both sides more than two times. All she…


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Non credo in un destino che casca sugli uomini e sulle donne al di là di come agiscono. Credo invece in un fato che si scaglia su di noi proprio se non agiamo, se cioè perseveriamo nei nostri errori e continuiamo ad opporre resistenza. 

Siamo qui solo ed esclusivamente per imparare: accettarlo con serenità e compassione verso noi stessi è la modalità  l'unica, per vivere una vita ricca e piena di (piccole, ma in realtà grandissime) soddisfazioni.

Siamo qui per imparare, ognuno di noi la propria personalissima lezione: ognuno con i propri tempi, ognuno secondo il proprio percorso. 

Io sono qui per comprendere che si vive in uno stato di costante cambiamento, e so che la vita farà di tutto per insegnarmelo. Mi ha messo e continua a mettermi di fronte alla perdita, al dolore e all'autodistruzione, e continuerà a farlo fintanto che non mi arrenderò e lascerò andare il mio attaccamento all'abitudine, alla sicurezza materiale, al conformismo, al lavoro, al successo, al ruolo sociale. 

Non importa quante volte tenterò di scappare: la vita farà di tutto per mettermi (pedagogicamente parlando) il bastone tra le ruote e costringermi a vedere la realtà per quello che è. Continuerà a presentarmi quelle stesse lezioni che devo imparare, tuttavia di volta in volta con interessi crescenti, fino a farmi perdere tutto per poter progredire.

Solo accettando e lasciando andare questo attaccamento così umano (troppo umano) all'ambizione, alla sicurezza e all'aspettativa potrò progredire. Spaventa e fa paura, ma è proprio in questo processo di morte e rinascita che si cela la chiave per la mia crescita.

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Dear Woman,

Ways To Take Your Power Back Training Course

1. First, forgive yourself. It wasn’t your fault.

2. You don’t have to pick up. You don’t have to respond all the time. You don’t have to continue to succumb to that hopeless and worthless feeling that you feel when you do answer.

3. You can do this. You are strong enough. You have the strength and the courage. You were built for this.

4. It is what it seems. Don’t let potential and a fantasy trick you into believing that things will change.

Homework: Love yourself. Know yourself. Cherish yourself. Pamper yourself. But most importantly, choose yourself.


A woman who liberated herself when she took her power back ❤❤❤

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Down Under


It’s wild what a difference a year can make. I’ve not spoken publicly of things I’m about to share, though those closest to me are well aware of these events. It’s recently been suggested to me, however, that writing more openly about the situation would be a good final step in releasing the negative energy surrounding it, thus closing this path of catharsis I have traveled for the past few months. And if nothing else, it could serve as a cautionary tale for someone else who might be able to avoid some of the pitfalls I fell into.

I met her last January. Her name was Emily… at least that’s what she told me her name was. In retrospect, I’m guessing that was just another of many things that wound up not being true. But in my memory she will always be Emily, and for the purposes of this exercise, it’s probably best to leave it that way. She reached out to me through a post I made on a personals subreddit. She purported to be from Australia, which will no doubt ring a bell for those of you who were curious as to why I suddenly became very interested in Australian facts around this time last year. She claimed to be a veterinarian and, near as I can tell, there may have been a hint of truth to that. I don’t know. It’s all still kind of difficult to parse through, unfortunately.

Be that as it may, there seemed to be this instant chemistry between us. We spent a lot of time texting, talking on the phone, exchanging pictures and voice messages. I liked her. A lot. I thought there was this energy we had going on. It was the kind of authentic vibe I hadn’t felt in a very, very long time. I was attracted to everything about her, and better yet, she seemed to actually be attracted to everything about me. In retrospect, I should have perhaps been more skeptical of a seemingly beautiful woman from a foreign country being interested in someone of my portly stature, but even my well-developed self awareness still has its blind spots.

The trouble came, of course, a couple of days before our first scheduled video call. I don’t want to get into too many details, because honestly there’s just no way for me to know how much of what I was told was true, and how much wasn’t… which is its own problem. The important part is that the video call didn’t happen for reasons that were portrayed to me as very dramatic. There was about a two-week period of radio silence where the only interaction I had from her was the recognition that she was viewing my Instagram stories. I started posting stories every day just to see if she was still thinking of me during what she had laid out to me as a very difficult and emotionally challenging situation for her. I haven’t used Instagram since all this went sideways. I still can’t bear to open the app on my phone. I honestly have considered deleting it altogether. But I digress…

After the radio silence, Emily got back in touch with me and said that she wanted to come over for a visit to see if we would still have the same chemistry in person. Then she would know if this was something she could truly move forward with. Of course I was ecstatic. So plans were set for her to come in the early spring, which in retrospect would have been just about the time the coronavirus began to spiral out of control here in the United States. I sometimes wonder what life would have been like if things had turned out to be real. It wasn’t long before travel was restricted leaving the country, so she likely would have been stuck here for a while. It would have meant more time together discovering each other, showing her around Kentucky, introducing her to my friends, and maybe, just maybe, building something meaningful and lasting.

But of course none of that happened, because she never came. It was never real. And if I’m honest, I still feel like an idiot for ever believing it could have been.

Emily dropped out of contact again about a week before she was supposed to arrive. She resurfaced long enough to once again outline a very dramatic situation that involved her family. I will refrain from specifics because if it was a lie, then it’s an unspeakably awful one… but if for some strange reason even some of it was true, then it’s just as unspeakably awful. Either way, it was soul-crushing. In a single moment, I had gone from planning out a two-week whirlwind vacation to the reality that this woman was now disappearing from my life.

I am so unbelievably stupid sometimes.

Looking back with the benefit of not feeling that devastation again, it seems clear that the potential of a face-to-face encounter, just like a video call, had made her realize that she couldn’t keep up whatever this thing was. So cue the drama and then exit stage left.

I’m not so proud of this next part…

I asked the catfish subreddit for help determining just how badly I had been bamboozled. In doing so, I linked the Instagram account she was using for our correspondence. For all of my intellect, it genuinely never occurred to me that people might send nasty messages. I wasn’t thinking very clearly at all, truth be told. But lo and behold, the next day I get a pretty spicy message from Emily on Google Hangouts (she had blocked and unfollowed me on Instagram and Discord with nary a word about it) telling me that people had been sending her some really mean things.

That’s when a friend of mine who had managed to infiltrate her Instagram, unbeknownst to me, sent me a screencapped photo of a woman on a beach, legs intertwined with another man’s with champagne glasses in both their hands. It was a first-person perspective photo, so I couldn’t see faces. But obviously it made this already strange situation seem a million times worse. I called Emily out on this, and the only thing she could say in reply is that she had “made the right choice.”

I spent the next few months floundering, trying to make sense of the million little pieces my heart had been shattered into. I really opened up to this person. I trusted her. I believed her when she said that she had feelings for me. But none of it was true. As you can imagine, I’ve spent a good amount of time dealing with this in my therapy. It’s hard to not have answers. Even in a brief email exchange some months later, Emily said it was all a big misunderstanding and that she hadn’t whisked off on some romantic getaway. But honestly those pictures likely weren’t even of her, either. There’s literally no way to know what the actual truth behind his whole fucked up situation, and that has been the most difficult thing to navigate over this past year. The utter deceit of it all reaches depths I could never have imagined in my wildest dreams.

So am I foolish? Yes. Of course I am. I think that’s just part of my personality. I don’t necessarily view it as a character flaw, per se. But it certainly bit me in the ass here. This was definitely a lesson in how to temper that naiveté with a healthy amount of skepticism. I don’t do so well with balance though, so the pendulum swung hard in the other direction for quite a while. It’s closer to the middle now, but I still have more than my share of moments where I wonder if love is a real possibility for me.

I’ve done so much inner work. I’m very proud of the person I’ve become on the inside. I’m kind, thoughtful, generous, empathetic, funny, intelligent, and possess a host of other intangible qualities that make me a very compelling person. But I am also fat and there’s no getting around it. (Pun somewhat intended?) And a woman of Emily’s purported beauty and social status dating a fat guy, no matter how amazing, is just not indicative of the reality in which we live. It’s the kind of situation you would only ever see on a television show or in a movie. But that’s not real life. And perhaps if I had understood that better, I wouldn’t have had my heart broken into a million little pieces.

But this isn’t a sob story. I’m legitimately okay now. Therapy has been a godsend and I’ve done a lot of really important work to heal from it all. But of course there are… remnants. It’s not the kind of thing you can ever completely wipe from your memory. It happened. It’s over. And I’ve moved on. Part of that is accepting that being a bachelor for the rest of my life is a distinct possibility, and perhaps may be a likelihood. At some point you have to face facts, you know? When you can confront yourself with that kind of honesty, the likelihood of someone being able to pull the wool over your eyes again dramatically decreases. Besides, I’ve got children to raise. A life to lead. I don’t really have time for childish fantasies of serendipity anymore. If I’ve learned nothing else from this ordeal, it’s that such fairy tales just aren’t real.

If you have read this far, thank you for indulging me. I really hope there’s something of value for you here. I guess I feel that if being open my mistakes can somehow help someone else avoid the same pitfalls, then it gives an added layer of meaning to them for me. So perhaps it’s a bit of a selfish pursuit intertwined with an altruistic one. That’s probably a question best left for the philosophers and dime-store psychologists among us.

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Ex is short
for exit
this is what I’ve come
to realize

stop leaving the door open
for someone
who no longer
deserves the key

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It is very important for you to heal if you are broken after a relationship because sometimes you start to punish your new dude for some shit the old one did, and you’ll miss out on a good one fr.

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Dreads again!!!!! Im so happy to get them back ive truly missed them. They are a form of expression and art for me plus i can keep them clean and make them look nice without brushing my hair. So its mid maintenance once you get them started good, i think anyway. Plus they look amazing the longer they get and you dont have to cut your hair.

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Whatever you lose, let it go… just be sure not to lose yourself. -w.a.m.

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Healing is talked about a lot in spiritual circles, and I think it’s something we should discuss. Healing, be it physical, emotional, spiritual, etc and can be done in a multitude of ways. Many people seek out professional healers, which makes veting them important, especially spiritual/faith healers. While I certainly don’t doubt miraculous healing (I’ve had my own experiences with it), it is not something you can rely on. I also suggest taking conventional medicine with spiritual and alternative medicine. I see healing as an odds game, and the more you do to increase your odds, the healthier you’ll be. I personally don’t rely too heavily on one source of healing for anything, I always combine healing methods together, so that I can get the best results. All in all, do what works best for you, and practice healthy habits! 

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