I, Alone

"What if you didn't go out with other men to distract yourself from hurting over Joseph?" asked my therapist. "What if you simply stayed with the pain..."

"...instead of running from it?" I finished. She nodded. "And just worked on my art and music?"

"That's the perfect outlet for everything you're feeling," she affirmed. "You can channel all of your emotions into your songs."

Every session, she brings up one of the main objectives I'd come to her with in our first meeting.

"You said, 'I want to learn how to be okay on my own, without a man...to feel complete just as I am, as an individual.' Joseph obviously has a lot to work through right now. Rather than feeling as though you're waiting for him, maybe you can look at this time as being solely for you, for doing all of the things that fill you up as a person and better your own life."

Even as I cried over Joseph, over the ever-dawning realization that I loved him above all others and wanted a future with him, her words hit home and sank in. Seeking the company of other men hasn't been making me feel better anymore, as it had initially when I was desperately trying to get over Joseph by any means available. No, I don't need to shun human contact altogether and turn into a hermit, but perhaps continuing to date isn't the answer. I can get to know people as they continue to come into my life and set boundaries based on what feels right. Hooking up with Harvard isn't going to feel right. Sharing my body with anyone other than Joseph isn't going to feel right.

And so I'll work. I'll see friends and family and write and sing and play. I will learn to stay with the discomfort that often accompanies solitude until I reach the point where I, alone, am enough.

Pretentious Indie Song of the Day:

Stay The Course

"You're so precious," he said as I wept into the phone. "You're a precious, creative being and you're presenting yourself as tits and ass."

Hearing him frame me in that manner put my existence into glaring perspective. I'd been steadily losing myself in whiskey and hot guys and image and modeling. What was I doing? I'd been conflicted about modeling since puberty. Being told by my mother that I was beautiful in a "unique" way but too ethnic to ever make it in that world filled me with the perverse desire to prove her wrong. Perhaps knowing now without a doubt that I could do it if I really wanted to is enough. Returning to the center of my being feels like the more righteous path. My art, my writing, my music and my ability to create all three in a truly profound sense fills me with beauty that emanates from within and makes my exterior appear more lovely than it might actually be in reality. Stay the course, do not deviate from the weight of genius, heavy though it most assuredly is. Even if no one is watching, even if no one is listening, I must resume the life I was born to live.

Pretentious Indie Song of the Day: