On Mondays, we regroup

I had such an intensely emotional weekend, something that has been happening rather often lately. The plan was to have an adult weekend comprised solely of boring self-care. You know; dinner for one made with ALL the love in the world, my favorite alcoholic beverage, movies with my feet up… the works. Did I succeed? Well, only for half a minute. And then fomo took over and I found myself fully dressed with my face beat and ready for an adventure. I used to be the most FOMO-free person on the planet. I have no idea when or how that changed…lol.

Anyway, as much as I fell off the wagon on that one day, I had every intention of carrying on with my self care plan the rest of the weekend. And I did. I spent Saturday by the pool -sunbathing and dipping interchangeably. It’s amazing how much a little vitamin D can do for your mood! Throw some cocktails and a book in there and you have yourself a full blown party for one.

Solitude can be difficult if/when you are an escapist. Your instinct says, “Keep going!” “Don’t stop the music!” “Run! Run! Run!” But at some point, all that stuff you keep out by following your instincts starts to leak from places that make them hard to ignore. Your eyes, for example, in the form of tears; your mood; hell even your body in form of random aches and ailments if you let it go so far. Pain sucks. Especially since there’s no quick permanent remedy for it. But you know what? There’s no short cut to recovery. And at some point or other, we’re all forced to deal with the pain that’s trapped inside of us. And it can get really really ugly.

So sit down with your emotions every now and again. Acknowledge them; Try to understand them. And then find a way to release them. It’ll do you a whole world of good.

Thanks for coming to my TEDtalk.

What are some of your self care routines?

Happy Endings.

“Come with every wound and every woman you’ve ever loved; every lie you’ve ever told and whatever it is that keeps you up at night. Every mouth you’ve punched in, all the blood you’ve ever tasted. Come with every enemy you’ve ever made and all the family you’ve ever buried and every dirty thing you’ve ever done; every drink that’s burnt your throat and every morning you’ve woken with nothing and no one. Come with all your loss, your regrets, sins, memories, black outs, secrets. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than you”

It’s taken me twenty four years to realize that strength is not the absence of vulnerability but rather the ability to be in spite of it. A lot of us spend our lives trying to pretend we have no weak spots. I’m sure many people, like me, would rather everyone believed us to be made of stone; unbreakable, strong, super splendid lady cool we can’t even pretend to be.

I’ve been that way for as long as I can remember. In fact, I’m pretty sure none of my friends has EVER seen me cry. Does that mean I don’t cry, though? I wish! In fact I probably cry more than the average 24 year old female. And you know what I wish for every time that I cry? That it were someone’s’ shoulder I was crying on, instead of my pillow; that someone was hugging me instead of my teddy bear.
But the thought of letting someone “see beneath my beautiful” as it were, and then deciding they don’t like it terrifies me so much that it seems so much easier to carry my burdens on my own. So I hold everyone at arm’s distance and let them see only the beautiful.
The fear of rejection is real, apparently, and it holds us back from so much. Because the only thing worse than being hurt, is missing out on the joy of being loved both for who/what you are and who/what you are not. There’s no greater love than the love of a person who knows your good, your bad and your ugly and still thinks you are amazing. And every single person deserves this kind of love. The 1 Corinthians kind of love; the patient, kind, enduring, bears all things, believes all things and never fails kind of love.

Approximately two years ago, I made a promise to myself that no one would ever hurt me again. This decision sprouted from a series of events that happened between 2012 and 2013 which taught me that a lot of people were in your life when things were good but you could only count on a handful when it mattered. I must admit that this was quite a hard pill to swallow at the time. But over time, I learned to adjust my expectations of people. Ok, I lie. The truth is, I just learned not to expect anything from anyone. Which is how come everyone in my life ended up at arm’s distance. I powered through the setbacks and built a shield of armor around myself –a shield I wasn’t letting down for anything in the world.

68b0734182b31402287437f0e729c27cAm I a better person for it? Not even. As painful as disappointment may be, it doesn’t even begin to compare to the void created when you block everything out. Because what they don’t tell you is that when you shut off the hurt and pain, you shut of the joy and happiness too. We don’t get to pick and choose which emotions to feel and which ones not to. When it goes, it all goes. I thought I understood this, at the time. I thought I was okay with not feeling anything. The pain of my last heartbreak was so excruciating that being emotionless seemed like a good deal if it meant I’d never get hurt again.

But that was then. I take it back. I want my heart back. My poem-writing, voicenote-sending, have-a-nice-day-video-making, ranting, nauseatingly lovey-dovey heart back. Because deep down, I never stopped believing.

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Buying dreams

Hi, my name is Zerida and I buy dreams. Seriously, whatever dream you’re selling, chances are that I’ll buy it. It’s been referred to as a strength many times, but deep down I know it’s a weakness. It’s why I am where I am today. A place I really, really shouldn’t be. 

In case you’re still wondering what I mean when I say I buy dreams,I mean that  I believe in people even when everyone else has given up; even when they’ve previously given me reason not to believe. For as long as I can remember, I’ve had this theory that no one is all bad. I honestly believe that everyone, however bad, has a little good in them. And that every action, however bad, has a logical explanation. Of course sometimes that explanation is that the person is a selfish waste of time, but for some reason, I always stay around to find out. And as a result, I’ve found myself on the receiving end of shattered dreams once too many times. And yet I still believe. 

A wise man once said that fifty bad experiences with fifty different humans shouldn’t set the precedent for how you respond to the 51st person. After all, there are seven billion people in the world. What are the odds that those fifty represent the whole population? 

One day, I’m pretty sure I’ll get it right and that my belief in people and in second chances will pay off. Why can’t we all just say what we mean? If you want something (or don’t, for that matter), just say so! I mean the worst thing that could possibly happen is the other person disagreeing with you. And people don’t die from that. It beats dilly dallying and having people waste so much of their precious time.

In a perfect world, we’d all wear out stories on our foreheads so that the people we meet can ascertain in a minute or two whether they want to get to know us or not. (Yes, that’s me selling you all my dream 🙂 ) How much easier life  would be! Don’t you agree? ‎

the morning after

The hardest mornings are those following a beautiful dream where everything is exactly as you wish it only to open your eyes and realise it was just a dream. You silently curse at your subconscious for poking around in your thoughts cabinet. You might even feel stupid for enjoying the un reality; for the sheepish grin on your face in those seconds before it dawns on you that it was only a dream. Everything feels like a mockery now- especially the singing birds and morning sun. “What have they to be happy about? Can’t they see you’re suffering?” You want to shout. Its one of those mornings. The ones that follow the blissful night’s escape from harsh reality. You saw your dreams, touched them… only to have them ripped away by over-zealous little miss sunshine and all her shining rays. Angry, mostly at yourself for hoping, you close the blinds and climb back into your bed certain you can’t make it through the day. Sadness is holding on with two hands -pulling with everything its got. You’re tempted to give in. Sometimes it feels good to curl up in bed and be miserable. But its only allowed SOMETIMES. Today isn’t ‘sometimes’. You remember all the times you felt like you couldn’t get through and you laugh as you reach for your morning coffee and realise that its going to be a good day.