The Dream of Connection

•March 4, 2016 • 5 Comments

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One day in high school, my English teacher showed us a short film that stuck with me. I don’t remember the name of it. I don’t even remember much of the plot, but I remember a few images and the emotions they inspired like it was yesterday rather than 30 years ago.

An old woman sat crying alone, and she said, “I’m so lonely” out loud for no one to hear.

Those words bring tears to my eyes.

When I say those words out loud for no one to hear, it’s as if I’ve woken from dream where I have genuine connections with people. I live in this wondrous delusion until I say these words:

I’m so lonely.

Then reality consumes me. Continue reading ‘The Dream of Connection’

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On My Own & != Too Much

•February 26, 2016 • 3 Comments

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This has been an incredible year so far!

Since January 1st, I’ve met brilliant co-workers, made new friends, traveled to five countries (9 cities), reconnected with old friends, met someone special, and danced – danced – danced. For someone who has become accustomed to copious amounts of silence and solitude, all that has been considerable stimulation and emotion in a relatively short amount of time (especially for an HSP with C-PTSD like me).

Earlier this week during a very emotional time (yay menopausal hormones; intense, new, confusing feelings; and a full moon…all at once!), I was listening to Les MiserablesOn My Own” (the ultimate song of unrequited love) and “I Dreamed a Dream,” trying to convince myself that my current tears were the direct result of having hope, of opening my heart again, of daring to feel new love and desire. I lamented being on my own, fully feeling the exquisite agony of unrequited, impossible love until the sadness naturally passed.

I started writing a blog post about being “too” — too much, too sensitive, too intense, too verbose, too needy, too emotional, too loud, too nice (critique, not compliment), too fat, too thin, too weird, too insecure, too dramatic, too fill-in-the-blank, as I’ve been told far “too” many times in my life. Continue reading ‘On My Own & != Too Much’

Lessons in Letting Go

•February 21, 2016 • 1 Comment


Upon waking this morning, I slid my hand across my stomach. While I had slept, my PJs had shifted to expose some bare skin. An image came to mind. A lover’s gentle caress across my body while pulling me closer. A few tears soon followed as I realized:

I hadn’t been touched tenderly by a lover in years.

As I’ve learned through the stages of grief and recovery, it’s important not to push away uncomfortable or painful emotions, but to feel them fully in that moment. So I felt sad, telling myself it was okay to feel sad. It was okay to cry.

There was a time when I cried so many tears every day it was surprising there was any moisture left in my body, but those days are long past. Sometimes the tears come now, like this morning, but I find they don’t stay for long. When they do come, I remind myself that it’s natural and it’s okay. It doesn’t make me weak. It doesn’t diminish who I am. There is grief after loss. Of course I’m sad sometimes. Anyone in the same situation would be. It’s part of life, loss, and recovery. Continue reading ‘Lessons in Letting Go’

Poem: The Moment You Smiled

•February 18, 2016 • 7 Comments

The moment you smiled
The moment you laughed
The moment your sparkling eyes fixed on me
The moment you spoke
The moment you sighed
That was the moment my soul was set free

The curve of your neck
The shape of your lips
The way that you tilt your head when you speak
The tone of your voice
The depth of your mind
The way that the raindrops fell on your cheek

The light in your eyes
Your manner so kind
The way you strode in a casual gait
Your brilliance, your skill
Your messy fine hair
Your adorable smile sealed my fate

Though we’ll never touch
Though we’ll never kiss
Though I’ll never feel your skin against mine
Your heart isn’t free
There’s no room for me
I truly accept we won’t cross that line

Despite the hard facts
It still remains true:
I’ll never forget those moments with you
So I will pull back
I’ll leave you alone
But that spark of love revived me anew

I won’t stay in touch
Not even as friends
Before it begins I know it must end
Whatever it means
Whatever it costs
The moment you smiled, my heart was lost.

—-{—-{@

A Meaningful Valentine’s Day

•February 14, 2016 • 4 Comments

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Today was a good day. A little sad, perhaps, but good. Of course it’s Valentine’s Day, which is difficult for most single or heartbroken people, but it’s also two other things for me:

  1. It’s Buster’s birthday, and I miss him so much.
  2. It’s the day my husband proposed 17 years ago in 1999.

After the great strides I took on February 12th (still can see that date without cringing!), I wanted to continue the march forward on this romantic day for myself. I had expected to spend it alone, but a colleague and I spent the morning together at the Van Gogh museum and talked over coffee. It was a nice morning, and I was very grateful to have the company.  Continue reading ‘A Meaningful Valentine’s Day’

Stepping Out of Hell

•February 13, 2016 • 10 Comments

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Yesterday was an important day. February 12th. That date has haunted me for the past four years. I’d see it everywhere, and I’d remember. Even if I hadn’t thought of it for quite some time, I’d remember when I’d look at my watch at 2:12. When my coworker from extension 212 would forward a call, or I to her. When I’d be given the hotel room 212.

Even the word “February” was difficult to see for the past four years. Last year, when I thought I was doing so well, February came and things went south. Turns out, it’s not uncommon for rape survivors to have a more difficult time on and around the anniversary of the assault.

As if my dear nephew’s birthday on February 12th wasn’t enough dichotomy, imagine my resigned horror when my coworker DM’d me that he was visiting Amsterdam and planning on meeting our CEO for dinner … on February 12th. Of course it was that date. Of course. That DM was the seed that transformed into a company fun day.  Continue reading ‘Stepping Out of Hell’

The Loneliest Christmas

•December 25, 2015 • 1 Comment

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This morning I made myself a cup of coffee and warmed a powder sugar-topped pastry after I had fed the cat I’m sitting. The two of us enjoyed our Christmas breakfast in silence, other than the crackling fire (complete with holiday tunes) playing from my iPad Mini 2, compliments of Netflix.

Once we finished our breakfast. Nox (the cat) munched on some treats that his parents had left for him in his stocking. I sat before my host’s tree, decorated with ornaments of their first Christmas together and images of their wedding, and felt very thankful for my solitary wrapped present. Continue reading ‘The Loneliest Christmas’