As the great Alfred Lord Tennyson once put it, ‘Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.’
In the early months following the demise of my relationship, I struggled to see how I would ever be able to love anyone as much as I loved him again. I was certain that we would spend the rest of our lives thinking that perhaps that one another were the one that got away, forever tainted by the loss of this love.
A year and 3 months on, my views are beginning to change. Don’t get me wrong – he will always be my first love and he will always hold a small piece of my heart. I would be lying to myself if I completely disregarded that. But if you were to ask me today if I thought it was possible for me to love again – I’d say, ‘damn straight it is!’
For me, opening up to idea of dating again was a slow process. It began with me not wanting to think, look or talk to another guy. I felt as though doing so would be a betrayal to him. My mourning period and grieving overshadowed any notion of entertaining other men.
I then went to Europe, two months following the break up, (initially still in this mindset). The long European Summer nights got the better of me however, and I left that trip with a few stolen kisses from a couple of suitors. #noregrets
Upon my return to Melbourne – bung knee and all – I found myself retreating to my previous mindset. The thought of dating again honestly made me feel sick. The last thing I wanted to think about was him with another woman, and me with another man.
I think this was because I still had a lot of healing to do. Sure, my trip was a great learning experience in the interim, but it was also a distraction. I now had to learn the meaning of self-care and self-love in order to move forward.
Flash forward a few weeks, my dislocated knee on the mend, I went out one night with the girls. There I met one of their friends, not intending for anything to happen, but one thing lead to another and we began seeing each other for the few months that followed. Unfortunately, as many of you reading this would know, timing has a big part to play in the outcome of any relationship. I still wasn’t 100% ready to allow myself to be completely open to the idea of being with him officially, in terms of ‘girlfriend’ and ‘boyfriend’ labelling. Sure, I liked him a lot, and I know he liked me too – but he wasn’t ready to wait for me – and I wasn’t ready to be ready any time soon. It was difficult, but we decided to remain friends.
Flash forward again a couple months – I had been doing lots of work on myself – and was really learning to be okay on my own. A night out with friends again caused me to meet It’s all in a hug guy annnnnd the rest, as the saying goes, is history.
I don’t know what the future holds here, but my spidey senses are tingling and let’s just say, the reservations I held previously have completely diminished. I can now safely say that for the first time since my break up, that I know what it feels like to have that potential of being able to love someone again – just as much as my first love, if not more.
Now if you’re reading this, hug guy – don’t freak out – this isn’t my public declaration of love for you. This is me noticing a change in my personal mindset – of once being closed off to loving again, to now realizing that there is a definite possibility for me to love again. You might have a small part to play in this. Thanks dude 👍🏼
It’s not every day you meet your opposite sex equivalent – but as he and I have come to realise, we have A LOT in common. A little too much! Down to the bank account organization! What the hell? In fact – we constantly freak ourselves out over how many of our beliefs, values and mindsets are alike. Its freaky shit – but I like it.
My first and I had a lot in common as well. I know they say that opposites attract but for me personally, commonality works best in my relationships as I find having common interests and values minimizes a lot of stress and unnecessary arguments. My first and I did disagree on a couple of major topics, however you tend to turn a blind eye for the ones you love. As time goes on though, sometimes you grow apart, and these differences become even more apparent. Sometimes you start off on the same path and then the routes change – whether you choose to go down the same path together or not is up to a range of factors.
Now I’m starting to realise that despite having a lot in common with my first – perhaps I have even more in common with those who are currently in my life. It’s not just about having a lot in common, it’s about having the right things in common – and this is the difference in my interactions within my relationships that I am starting to be more aware of and acknowledge as important.
My thoughts lead me to believe that if I was able to love the wrong person so much – imagine the amount of love I will be able to give to the right person. The potential to love again definitely exists, but it takes a while to get through the fog and gain a clearer perspective of this possibility.
Whatever happens in my future it’s comforting to know that just because one loving process may end, it doesn’t mean love ends for good. I have come to realise that we all have a range of soul mates that come into our lives to teach us valuable lessons, and to help our souls evolve. This is what opens us up to the opportunity of multiple loves – a concept I never quite understood until now.
It’s true that it is better to have loved and lost, because had I had not loved at all, I would have never come to this conclusion. Being in love once taught me how to love again, as did being loved. Love is a beautiful thing, and our lifetime spent on this earth is short. Building walls to avoid hurt and heartbreak only hinders your chances of experiencing new and better loving relationships. This is a risk I’m not willing to take because I love, love and all the good that comes with it.
My advice to those of you thinking you’ll never find love again… Start with yourself. Love yourself, and half the battle is already accomplished. Take the time to grieve your past relationships and when you’re ready, get back out there. Carpe diem!
Love, light, and a little more love,
Yo – whattup – how we doin’ today?
Okay – I don’t know why I chose to start this post off like that but anywaaaay, here we are.
In my last post I touched on the fact that I currently weigh the heaviest I’ve ever been. Mind you, finally getting to 37kgs for a girl who has always struggled to put on weight is quite the achievement! For years, I’d jump on the scale and see the same numbers fluctuating between 34 and 35kgs, a frustrating total when your goal weight is to reach at least 40kg!
Despite having normal eating habits, stacking on the kgs was always mission impossible for my petite frame. Growing up, my mum would always pack lollies, chocolates and chips in my lunch box to try and speed up the process. In hindsight, she probably wasn’t feeding me the right kinds of fats, but what’s a Mumma bear to do when her daughter prefers eating salads and meats over carbs?
Nowadays, I understand the importance of a balanced diet, and I try to include a variety of food groups within my meals. Still though, I struggled to gain weight. This is – up until a few weeks ago, I noticed some old jeans of mine no longer fit me anymore. Not thinking too much of this, I threw out the old pair, and bought some new ones with a better fit.
Then, came the comments from my mum and others that they were noticing that I’m starting to fill out. It wasn’t until this point I figured I should weigh myself again, and sure enough I had gained a couple of kilos!
What. The. Hell?
To tell the truth, I don’t know what I’ve been doing differently. Perhaps it’s a combination of yoga causing my appetite to open up, eating more, age and being at a stage in my life of true contentment after a horrible year, which has caused my body to finally retain some weight.
Being vertically challenged, I never wanted to gain an unrealistic amount of weight anyway, just enough to have as a buffer in case I got sick, or as last year, go through a traumatic time which causes me to lose some kgs. Getting sick when you can’t afford to lose any more weight is a scary prospect which really hit home particularly last year.
People however do not seem to understand or empathise with those of us who’s best intentions are to try and put on weight, but struggle to do so. There is a double standard which lies in the comments that I and many other petites have had to endure over the years. “Wow, you’re so tiny, do you even eat?” “Are you vegetarian?” “Omg you’re too skinny, why are you so thin?” “Do you go to the gym a lot?”
It’s always perplexed me that this has been an acceptable form of discourse, but if I were to ask someone who naturally struggled to lose weight, why they are fat – I would be labelled as a bully and cruel.
NEWS FLASH – it’s the same thing! So this is my call out to those of you out there reading this, to please be more aware of your words when speaking to people who seem to be thinner than your expectations of ‘normal.’
The big booty culture has violently erupted with the likes of Kimmy K, and Meghan Trainor. Good on you if that’s what you’re into, but putting down us ‘skinny bitches’ for not having any bass is just as demeaning and cruel. It says more about you than anything else. We should be supportive and accepting of each other’s differences, whether we’re tall, short, fat, thin, blonde, red head or brunette.
Just a little food for thought for your Tuesday night.
BOOM. Drop the mic.
After putting off a long overdue doctor’s visit – I finally dragged my ass to the clinic on Monday night and I have some great news I’d like to share with you all.
Not pregnant. Relax.
But I am starting the process to get off my anti-depressant medication #GoodbyeZoloft.
Those of you who have been following my blog from its creation last November would be aware that my anxiety and depression spiraled out of control due to the end of my long-term relationship. This caused me to jump on the medication and start seeing a therapist.
From the get go – I was hesitant to take meds, but I knew that it was something I desperately needed at that point in time. Had I not resorted to this option, I would not be where I am today. I did maintain however, that I did not want to stay on them for an overly long period of time.
I truly believe that I am at a stage in my life, once again, of legitimate happiness and contentment. I judge this by my overall emotions, my sleeping patterns; the way in which my body is changing and the amazing people I currently have around me for support. The biggest indicator? – I weigh the heaviest I have EVER been, and that speaks volumes to a girl who has struggled to put on weight for her entire life.
The above factors have lead me to conclude that now is as good a time as any, to start gradually reducing my medication, before finally completing my intake altogether. With support of my doctor, this process can take up to four weeks.
I am both excited and nervous about the next phase of my life – a new stage of learning in my healing process without the aid of meds. Spiritually, I have adopted practices such as yoga, crystal healing, aromatherapy and self-care in the form of treating myself to some new clothes or a pampering session. I make sure to love myself first and foremost, in the hope that someday, someone out there will love me and value my worth just as much as I value myself.
I feel now that I am better equipped to deal with my anxiety and my low moments. Sure, there’s no telling what the future will hold – perhaps I will need to revisit medication one day. But I do know one thing – I will never be made to feel as I did in the year that was 2015, because I am now armed with the tools, knowledge and experience to get me through.
Love & light to all