This is a True Story

In catholic school they taught me that I was a piece of play dough. That every time I touched somebody else sexually they’re colors rubbed into mine and mine into theirs. that afterwards I wasn’t all yellow anymore. I wasn’t pure anymore. As if sex taints me, makes me imperfect. As if I’m the toy nobody else will want to play with anymore because I’m now ugly. Ruined. It took me a long time to realize that it’s not true.

You and I are not play dough or puzzle pieces trying to jam ourselves into the places we do not fit. We are human beings. We are not broken or misshapen. We are not ugly or tainted. Human. We are human.

Believing in God has nothing to do with any of this. I am not trying to shed a negative light on Him. But no matter what you believe, if sex is something you do want to save or if it’s something you want to enjoy now, for yourself, you will not be ruined because you do it. You will not be a prude because you don’t.

Don’t let schooling or anybody else shame you or make you feel like you are less whole for having sex. Sex is human. It is natural. It is love.

What I do give those Catholic school teachers props for is that they told me what is not sex. If you were manipulated, raped, scared, or anything of the kind, that wasn’t sex. If you are ashamed, like me, because you were 15 and thought maybe having sex to please your boyfriend was what you were supposed to do so you did it anyways… That isn’t sex. That’s being taken advantage of.

Regardless, manipulated, raped, scared, abstinent, having sex because you want to, having sex with the person you love, you are still not tainted. You are never damaged goods.

You are always you and you are always whole. Nobody can take any part of you away from them.

You know this because every time you’ve had your heart broken, you’ve always come out the otherside. It’s okay to let some people reserve a special part of your heart and soul, but remember, you always own it. You are not damaged goods.

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Tumblr and Scrubs and Love

Gonna start off this post with a little quote I came across today.

do you remember the waiting? the unnecessary tapping of fingers against tables. telling yourself the phone isn’t gonna ring any faster, baby. telling yourself you can live without them. you don’t need anyone is what you think. you don’t need anything. who cares about love when there’s a new show on the television tonight and your favourite meal is cooking and autumn is so soon. do you remember the waiting? you tell yourself it’s normal to love, it’s okay to fall every once in awhile. but you still haven’t figured out how to love them without giving up a part of yourself, too.

For the past few days I’ve been thinking about how to put this feeling into words. Tim asked me what my biggest fear was and the only way I could express it was, “I don’t want to end up like Lorelai.” But, other than that simple statement, how do you tell the person who love the most that you’re terrified of doing so?

-Tim, if you’re reading this for whatever reason, don’t worry. It’s you.-

For those of you who don’t know, Lorelai is a character from Gilmore Girls. She is an amazing woman who lets her strength get the best of her sometimes. I’ve been told I’m just like her on so many occasions, and it’s really a large complement because of her 100 miles a minute speech and her high wit mind. But it also sucks because I don’t want to be scared to love somebody, but more than that, I don’t want to fall apart when I lose that love.

And I’ve been that girl, too. The girl who loses her mind just because her boyfriend broke up with her. The girl who cries every night and forgets what wind feels like because she simply can’t bare to get out of bed and face the world. And every time I’ve been her, I’ve kicked myself over and over again whenever I looked back on it. That girl was mean and blamed the world, she treated her life like a movie. And, in the end, she got so wrapped up in the heartbreak that she forgot what the actual love part was really like. And that’s just not fair.

So, how do you fix this? How do you love somebody without giving them a piece of yourself?

The answer is: you don’t. It is so completely and totally okay to share yourself with somebody. That’s what love is. And, most of us never realize it, but when you give a chunk of your heart to somebody and let them hold it, they’re also giving you a chunk of theirs. A matching piece to fill the puzzle back up again. And, when you’re together, you get double the heart. Double the stuff.

Let me quote Scrubs:

Carla: This is about you not being able to commit, because committing means saying goodbye to whatever unfulfilled fantasy of love you’ve concocted after seeing too many Meg Ryan movies. But men don’t come and make everything all better — they’re only human. And you shouldn’t punish him because you were forced to grow up so fast you never learned how to let someone else take care of you. He’s not your father, okay, he’s not necessarily gonna disappear at the first sign of trouble. And, as scary as it is to consider letting yourself be truly vulnerable with another human being, what’s even scarier is that deep down inside you know you picked this man…and if you run away from him now, you’ll be running away from being the kind of person you always wanted to be.

Every time I watch this episode all I can think is, “REEEE FUCKING TWEEETTTT CARLA! THAT IS ME!” I think what is so wrong with all of us is that we are terrified to invest our lives and hearts into these things because we 1. don’t want to get hurt, 2. don’t want to give up on our “unfulfilled fantasies of love”, and 2. don’t know how to share ourselves.

Maybe because we grew up in a time when talking about your feelings wasn’t a thing. Maybe because most of us are children of divorce and the last thing we want to be is our parents. Maybe because for so long we’ve always been told that we should only ever have to take care of ourselves.

I’m going to tell you right now that it is a thousand and seven percent okay to rest your head on somebody else’s shoulders for a little while. That you are strong and courageous. That you can give your heart to somebody and still keep every piece of yourself in tact, and that if you don’t, it’s okay to be broken every now and then.

The point of this blog is to make sure each and everyone of you know that it is human nature to need people. If it weren’t, there wouldn’t be so many of us. Baby’s wouldn’t die without attention. People wouldn’t go crazy when left in isolation. But the other, underlying factor of this blog is to embrace every feeling you’ve ever had. They are all valid. Especially the love ones.

The Beginning.

A very good place to start.

Here is the matter of fact, no games, no false hopes or dreams truth:

I’m starting this blog for me and only me. I am starting this blog to scream my games, hopes, and dreams out into whatever internet void I’ve been given. You don’t have to read or listen or even click on any other post, but if you do, I hope you’ll find yourself there the way I’m trying to find myself here as well.

I hope your navigation on my page is the same as my journey through this writing process.

I don’t have a set theme. I will often change my viewpoints. One day I will talk about war and corrupt societies, other days I will cry about humanity, and on the days my heart is the most restless, I’ll post an unedited, fancy-free poem to try and share a small piece of who I happen to be on that particular day.

That’s what it’s like to be an early twenty-something who doesn’t really have any friends other than her dog and a few people she’s known since grammar school.

The fact of the matter is, reader, I’m simply trying to bring some sort of light into this world. Some sort of color. Purple, maybe. Some sort of solace to this weird, beautiful, dark life.


disclaimer: some things I post here will be edited, revamped versions of things I posted on longasta.tumblr.com