time to dream

i had a moment of bliss the other day, driving home from work. it’s just me, myself and i. alone. and in love. getting back to me, who i am, what i want. the person i want to be. a moment of bliss even after changing course.

i’m in love. with me. i’m working hard to be on my own. to grow my dreams. to hunt down destiny and pin it on my sleeve – next to where my heart sits. i always fall hard. always. and the worst part about ending those hard fallen relationships is that your entire view of the future is changed: month to month, week to week. you build a life out of hopes and thoughts and daydreams. then you burn the blueprints only to start all over again.

life is easier on my own.

i’m always compromising with myself. i should just remember i want what i want, and accept nothing less. but i just get caught up in the romanticism. the notion and the whimsy and the way it makes me feel. right now, all i want is an unadulterated love affair with me.

so destiny and my heart are pinned side by side, visible and vulnerable, but courageous and prepared. love will always save me.


you start off with a painted wall. you get bored and repaint. you get bored again and repaint, this time with something completely different – nothing the old you would have ever chosen. but it doesn’t last. you take black paint and shove the roller to the wall, aggressively trying to cover up the colours you knew weren’t you at all. but, not even the darkest colour and ten coats covers it, allows you to forget. you try stripping the paint with an alcohol based stripper. but no amount of alcohol allows you to forget. it just peels away the past. one layer at a time.

you hit a point where you want to paint it again, but you think about the hassle of all those colours before. so instead of the roller, you get out the brush. this time it’s covered top to bottom with love hearts and rainbows and sketches of possible new signatures, kids names and blueprints of your house with the white picket fence. and when you realise this doesn’t quite express what it truly means in your life, you somehow make wallpaper from it. and glue it, piece by piece to your wall. slowly creating art.

it’s permanent. part of your life. now, you don’t consider changing at all, you think about why you chose wallpaper in the first place. and it stays.

see, wallpaper creates security, comfort, a home. wallpaper is a bitch to get rid of, but once it’s on, part of your life, you don’t want to get rid of it at all. it covers up the past, creates a new slate. a new life. it glues you to yourself. and yes, there can be bubbles. it can peel away in places. but with the right tools, the ones you have, it’s fixed in no time and stronger than ever. it’s not perfect. but it’s security, comfort, a home.

i can’t wait to wallpaper my house.

self love

i don’t know who i am sometimes. who i want to be – who i’m turning out to be. people make me want to be different, i make me want to be different. i remember as a kid, i said to my mum once: if i wasn’t me, i wouldn’t be friends with me. I didn’t really like myself very much, but then again, who does at 12 years old?

since then, i’ve grown to like the me i am. and even though i may be uncertain about who exactly i am, i still have a love for myself. i like how i’m growing, i like who i’m becoming. if i ever doubt any moment in my life, i always think if that didn’t happen, i wouldn’t be here. and i like where i am. i like who i am, who those moments allowed me to become – whoever that may be.

carrie bradshaw said: “the most exciting, challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. and if you can find someone to love the you you love, well that’s just fabulous.” [thank you my dear friend mel]. all the time i’ve been spending on my own recently has made me think about the relationship i have with myself. i am in love with me. and not in an arrogant, vain way. in a self loving, accepting, maturing way – or so i think. i haven’t thought about myself as both parts in the relationship much, but the more i do think about it, the more it makes sense. and here goes the sense making:

you have to live with yourself your entire life. and if you can’t stand yourself, how can anyone else…if you can’t love yourself, how can anyone else? and why should they? why should you expect a person to care for you/love you/think about you/want to be around you when you can’t do any of those things for yourself? i used to hate being alone. i used to hate doing things without someone standing by my side. and yes, i appreciate the fact that company is lovely and having people in your life is more important than ever at times. but, when everyone’s left the party, will you be okay on your own?

i’m still learning things about myself – and probably will my entire life. but with that comes a love for discovery. when i was in high school, i used to be so sure of myself. i had strong morals, direction, a plan. and all that floated away when i realised things change, people change, life changes and along with all that, i was changing too. growing. 

i like myself. you should like yourself too. you’re a pretty important part of your life. this love story is only just beginning.

finders keepers?

there are certain things that should never be swept under the rug in a relationship. one of those is exes.

they’re there. they happen. they need to be addressed. and in a fast and aggressive manner. they’re band-aid moments – they may leave a red mark but the pain dissipates swiftly.  

however, exes, if not dealt with in a manner appropriate to the relationship in question, can cause a great deal more pain and leave more than just a red mark. females can be horrible exes, and with the evolution of the “sensitive new age guy”, so too can males (as opposed to the fist-fighting, beer drinking men of the past who would mutter quietly and maybe throw a punch). they become different, cringe-worthy, psychopathic versions of their former selves. they show their true, primitive colours. they develop animalistic, predator vs prey responses. they are obsessive. delusional. irrational.

and what happens when one of these crazed exes decides to take the low road and attempt to steal back the man/woman lost?

when a person decides they don’t like the fact their ex is moving on, they have two options. one, appreciate the relationship for what it was, say it was great while it lasted, acknowledge the end and move on. two, stage a savage attack on the new relationship to try and win back their ex.

this isn’t a case of finders keepers anymore. primary school is long gone, as is high school for that matter. when you start reaching an age where you have responsibilities, you also need to begin to accept your life as it is. not for what it was at another point in time. if you’ve been through a break up, no matter how hard it is or was, getting back together with your ex will not resolve your underlying issues which, believe it or not, stem from within yourself. lonely? bored? if you can’t be happy by yourself, chances are you won’t be happy with someone else.

reaching into another relationship and trying to pull out a person from within it is bad enough. when you’re tampering with the new relationship of your ex, it’s even worse. bluntly, it makes you a bad person. 

you are trying to alter something much bigger than yourself. stop being selfish, take a step back, and you’ll see how psychotic you appear. if they wanted you, they’d be with you. be the bigger person and let your ex move on. and you should too.

nb: in a relationship? it is not okay to communicate with your ex. if your partner says they’re okay with it, they’re lying. you’re hurting them, perhaps more than you know. part of the problem comes from this: miscommunication – give them an inch, they’ll think you’re getting married. remove yourself from any toxic situation and the toxicity will remove itself from your life.

tingle, pringle, shingle…

boys/men. call them what you like, they all mean the same thing. troubled times. 95% of the conversations i have with my girlfriends are in one way or another connected to a problem in relation to that theme. they consume, disrupt, suffocate our lives and (unknowingly) leave us beaten and bloodied while doing so.

just who do they think they are? at my ripe, young age, i have no worries about not being attached to one of these all-consuming specimen. why is there any reason to complicate a life that is so perfectly uncomplicated? there is no point in forcing, squeezing, scheduling into your life someone who will ultimately only create less of an ability for ease and freedom. (that said, i appreciate the nature of fate and fully support all those serendipitous moments which come along now and then to remind us of the ways of the sneaky universe.) yet so many people decide to rush into relationships with their eyes closed for fear of “running out of time”.

those women who place so much of an emphasis on their time constraints in bearing a child are dependent leeches who need to understand that your choice in having a relationship should not be bound by age. biology tells me i have until 40, 45 tops before i start losing my green card on the baby clock. but the baby clock is ticking with, or without a man, and if that is my only reason to prematurely induce a relationship then i am more than happy to find other means of creating my spawn. there is too much technology, too many scientific discoveries, too many other options, to chance love and contentedness in return for securing a man purely as an amenity more primitively useful in facilitating the conception of a child.

i have no problem with being single and will be for my entire life if i choose to do so. i would rather that than something forced and contrived where my true happiness hangs in the balance. if children is what i want, i can do it on my own. 

there is no reason other than love to be in a relationship. and there is no reason to rush into one because your girlfriends are, you get lonely, have “needs” to be met or want to have children before it’s too late. these excuses are all fixable without men. yes, even children. life’s too short to be wasted on wasteful things.