Learning to Move On.

Up until last summer, I don't think I knew who I was.
I blamed the failure of past relationships on the shortcomings of my exes, only attributing my own mistakes as resulting behavior; a natural reaction to the injustice I (thought) I had been faced with.
As is expected in my life, my plans of heading to Austin last summer were derailed two weeks before I was supposed to head to the Lone Star state.  In true Engelbert fashion, I impulsively decided to move to Block Island, RI for the summer.  The plan was to wait tables, waste time, and spend some time at the beach while trying to get my inner compass to point in any direction for a definitive amount of time.
The plan was not, in any capacity, to fall in love.
As arrogant as it was, I assumed I was too good for him from the beginning, and assumed this conceived superiority would mean I would never, ever, feel any type of real attachment towards him.  At first, I avoided him and tried to play hard to get, amused at how much power I thought I had over him.  He was so charismatic and charming, and despite what every single fiber of the common sense I had left told me, I decided to give him a chance.
I recognized this romance should have been a brief summer fling after I was too far into it.  The entire time, I should have just been walking along where the surf breaks on the shore, but instead, I dove in head first past the point where waves start to form.
That's the thing about being all consumed by a toxic relationship; the person you're with will actually swallow you whole, and at some point, you begin to blur boundaries.  Everything you previously had considered a hard no has become a possibility.  You're not sure of where you stand on anything anymore.  You're not even sure of who you are.
So why did I lose my mind, and myself?  I'm not sure.  I got wrapped up in a whirlwind of being cavalier and responsibility free.  I loved being loved by someone.  I created a complex and elusive individual that didn't actually exist inside of a liar.  I lost who I was and instead became a girl I never thought I could be; the one who did everything for the sake of her boyfriend.
While I still can't fully wrap my mind around the complexities and heartbreaks of completely toxic and irrational love, I can assert this:  devoting all of my energy into trying to make a miserable person happy was EXHAUSTING.  I actually felt physically, mentally and emotionally drained from trying to be the person I thought he needed at the moment.  Whenever I took a step back and started to think I didn't deserve the heartache, I actually felt guilty for feeling entitled to love.  That notion alone should have been a red flag:  of course I was entitled to love, and of course I was entitled to be happy.  Nobody should feel as if they don't deserve to be loved.
To say I was in a thankless relationship is an understatement.  I gave, and gave, and tried until I couldn't anymore.  I hated myself for sticking around.  I basically became an addict to the one thing that was destroying me the most.
I wasn't writing.  I wasn't doing anything to better myself.
Breaking up with him was like coming up for air after scuba diving.  I hadn't felt the weight of all I'd been dealing with until I felt the lack of it.  After time, days got better.  I laughed again.  I began to focus on myself, and my goals, and realized I needed to spend time alone to avoid putting myself through the hell I just had.
Still, I wanted some form of reassurance that I hadn't actually just wasted the better part of a year.  I needed the validation that he had, at one point, truly loved me the way I thought he had.  Had I really created the entire depth of the relationship?
Not only did I begin to hate him for treating me the way he had and blaming his actions on me being crazy, but I hated him for actually making me crazy.
I couldn't let go of the relationship because I needed closure, which I've now come to terms and realized I'll never get.  I don't know why I would have expected a mature and realistic conversation from someone who possesses neither of those attributes.
What I have realized, however, is the only people who can ever have power over you are the ones you allow to.  You can't create a relationship off of wishes and what if's:  a relationship is what it is at face value, and you can't waste time and energy fixing something broken beyond repair or trying to save someone who doesn't want to save themselves.
I'll never fully understand what drew me to this absolutely toxic individual, but I can't dwell on the pain anymore.  I know the only way I can actually move on and let go is by letting myself do so.
You can't erase the memories you shared with someone or the time you devoted to them, but you can absolutely learn from it.
So yes...
You'll always be my talk until the sun comes up on the beach.  You'll always have the part of me I gave you.  I'll never look at another sunrise, or the Mohegan Bluffs, or another mile of empty beach the same way again.  I don't think I can even look at Block Island the same way.  You'll always be the keeper of some of my secrets.
You'll also always be the reason I spent so many nights crying myself to sleep, wondering why I wasn't enough.  I'll never forget what it was like to fall so completely in love with another person that I was willing to (and did, in some cases) change my entire life for them.
Loving you made me weak in so many ways, but it also made me so much stronger.  Now I know what it feels like to be settled and happy for it, which is something I"ll carry with me forever.  Now, I finally know how to stand up for myself the right way.
I also finally know who just isn't worth the time.

So thanks, I guess.

You Can Bake Your Cake and Eat it Too: Why Every 20-something Female Should be Ashamed of Herself

If you participate in social media, I'm sure you've become acquainted with the viral post "23 Things to Do Instead of Getting Engaged When You're 23." by Vanessa Elizabeth.  Vanessa's editorial urged readers in their young 20's to see the world and get to know themselves before rushing to settle down and get married.  It's abundantly clear Elizabeth is enjoying her time as a single girl, traveling the world and gaining new experiences, which she should be - her life sounds pretty awesome.  As with most opinion pieces, however, Vanessa's article has caused quit a stir among those who are- you guessed it, young and engaged (or married, which I presume is the end result of an engagement, unless you're a contestant on the Bachelor).  The rebuttal pieces (much like the one here) all maintain the same belief:  that being married or engaged won't hinder one's ability to live life and succeed as a person.

I've noticed a scary trend among all 20-something women:  the categorical division of girls who are single and those who are in serious relationships.  The "us" and "them" mentality is perpetuated by both parties, and it's actually ridiculous. Both sides reserve stereotypes and judgement about the other.  The single crowd automatically assumes girls who are married or engaged in their early to mid-twenties are boring and settling.  There's the assumption girls who have husbands and fiances must not also have careers or social lives.  On the inverse, there's the common stereotype of all single girls in their mid-twenties as being spinsters in the making who consume too much wine, imbibe in nights at the bars too frequently, and are too career focused to have a rewarding love life. Is each side relying on the stereotypes and put downs against the other to cover up latent jealousy, fearing the grass may be greener on the other side?  If this is the case, feminism everywhere just set itself back about 30 years.

It's 2014.  60 years ago, it might have been unheard of for a woman to be anything other than a housewife, but that's because society was  also still segregating schools and encouraging homosexuals to stay closeted.  We've come a long way since then, and the general idea in today's society is based on the notion you can become whatever you want to be without having to apologize for it, or compromise yourself in any manner.  Women should be supporting each other, not limiting one another and dividing themselves into a society of the haves and have nots (husbands, that is).  Instead, girls in their twenties are just trying to prove you cannot, in fact, have it all.

But why do we do this to one another?  Is it jealousy?  I'll admit this much:  if you had asked me ten years ago where I thought I would be at this point in my life, I would not have told you I envisioned myself being a single freelance writer.  I used to cringe every single time a new engagement or birth announcement popped up on any number of my social media feeds, and I lived in fear of getting my mail knowing there would be a Save the Date or Wedding Invitation awaiting me.  Yes, I was jealous of the girls who seemed to be getting everything I once thought I wanted, but I recently had a realization that put it all into perspective.

My generation has become a pioneering group in many aspects; we're a generation that hasn't necessarily followed the timeline or format of our parents.  Not all of us are graduating from college and receiving job offers immediately.  We're navigating society with new challenges, technology, and competition unforseen in the past.  Because of this, there is no precedent or social norm for any type of timeline anymore:  how can someone expect to be married with children by 28 if they only receive their first real job offer at 27?  On the other end of the spectrum, who is anyone to criticize the individuals who graduate from college and start full time jobs immediately, and are financially stable and settled enough to actually betroth by 24?  We've created an impossible double standard in our society; it's almost as if the women who aren't in serious relationships prematurely defend themselves by lashing out at those who are.

It is incredibly important for all women to support each other in every aspect of life and not immediately resort to discounting someone's good fortune as a defense mechanism.  By reassuring yourself the girl who just got engaged is now boring and must not have a fulfilling social or career life, you're ultimately perpetuating the idea that women can't be both career minded and family minded.  Very rarely do men face such scrutiny - I can not recall a time where males have sent group texts saying, "Did you hear Joe proposed?!  Kill me, right?  Well, whatever, he'll be missing out on Fantasy Football this year, so it sucks to be him."  Is this because society has long accepted the idea of being able to be a family man and a career man?  If that's the case, why are women limiting themselves by battling one another on the stance of their relationship?

Regardless of what your status is - you should be happy for your friends and all of their accomplishments and milestones in life while focusing on your own.  Everyone has their own individual set of goals, and instead of focusing on negating the great things that happen to others, instead, females should be working on being the best version of themselves they can be.

So no, I will no longer be participating in the scathing group texts when a sorority sister of mine gets engaged critiquing the ring and reassuring the other single girls that "they'll be divorced in five years anyway."  I'm going to enjoy the weddings and the open bars that are in my future.  If I meet someone, great, and if not, that's okay too.  I'm not going to put others down in an attempt to make myself feel better, because who the hell am I to tell someone their successes are limited to only one area of life?