#500wordsaday: Just Picture Them All Naked

1) A time you lied
2) A time you were hurt
3) The last time you were happy for a week straight
4) Family
5) How you wish you started your day (and then why you aren’t doing that already)
6) Your most authentic moment
7) When you really loved yourself
8) When you were scared
9) Why you long for love
10) Something about you that you’re hoping people don’t notice   / Something about you that you’re hoping people do notice

500 Words a Day: When you really loved yourself

Women aren't really predisposed to love ourselves; society prefers we focus on our faults over our successes, the bad over the good. It took me a frightening amount of time to think of a time I could say I last really loved myself. Like, such a lengthy amount of time, I am writing this intro still unsure of the answer. 

The last time I really loved myself.

Do women really do that? Love themselves?

Fast forward a day-and-a-half, and I still don't really know the answer to this question. What's scary, is that I can think of countless moments where I've taken time out of my day to hate myself. I can think of plenty of moments where I have hated on my body or on my life or on my choices; I could write a whole book on times I've hated something about myself, physically or otherwise. 

We have to fight against the thigh gap and the bikini bridge; without those things (which are impossible goals), we can't possibly love our bodies. We have to fight against rape culture, which continues to blame us or what we're wearing when we're assaulted or raped. We have to fight against sexism and wage gaps in the work place, disrespect in athletics in both high school and college. You name it, women are waging an uphill battle against it. 

And I feel like that's how most women I know, would answer this question. I am not the only one wading through times I've been negative about myself, looking for a brief fleeting moment of a time I may have had a loving moment. I honestly can't think of a time in my adult life that I have loved my body, and I make a lot of choices I'm not super lovey-dovey about either. 

I had to dig really far to find a way to write this post.

Recently, I was asked to speak for 5 minutes at a training in our corporate office. This likely seems like not such a big deal to a lot of people, but for someone who gets nervous when speaking in public for 5 seconds, 5 minutes in front of all of our company's regional managers and directors, is a big deal. 

Big.

Huge.

Before I said yes, I almost passed out at the thought. But of course, I know that in order to move in the direction I want, this was a great opportunity, and one I should be proud of having, as only two of us were invited. So, it was a big deal. One I should have been (and was, once the overwhelming terror wore off), proud of. 

I had no idea what to wear, and probably tried on everything in my entire closet the night before - keep in mind, this was taking place at 8:00am the day after my birthday, so I kept dinner very tame, only had one beer, and was home in bed by 10:00pm; I was not taking any chances at this not going well. In the morning, I walked into the corporate office with my coworker, a complete ball of nerves. We'd spent the drive nervously gossiping, trying to convince each other this was no big deal, knowing full well that it kinda was. But, with all of my nerves, I did it. I got up in front of the room, talked about my team and their awesomeness, and about all of the things I was asked to speak about. 

And I didn't die or faint or anything!

I was certainly proud of myself in this moment, and felt a huge sense of accomplishment. I did something I was terrified to do, and I did a great job - I received several amazing follow up emails confirming that I didn't fail miserably at life, nor could anyone tell I was so nervous I was practically hyperventilating internally. I did great. And I was so proud. 

I would say that those things - pride, accomplishment, the ability to pat myself on the back - equate to self-love. I left the meeting with this sense of confidence that I don't often feel, and I think that is self-love as well. 

Starting this post, I felt like I needed to uncover a moment where I loved myself physically; for some reason "a time you loved yourself" instantly felt like I needed to dig through all of the nasty things I have ever said about my body to find a moment I liked it. But in reality, self-love doesn't have to be physical. It doesn't have to be a time I felt great in a dress or noticed myself losing weight; it doesn't have to equate to body image, because body isn't all I am. Self-love can exist in other ways, including pride for accomplishing something or overcoming a fear. 

There are a lot of things I don't love about myself, but the reality is most of those are external. And the reality is, most of them are stupid and irrational, and almost all of them are things I need to work to get over. It shouldn't take so much thought and bewilderment to come up with something I actually love about myself. 

But this exercise made me do that, which I clearly needed. 

I love that I'm ambitious, and that being afraid will never be what stops me from going for what I want. My passion and drive, both personally and professionally, are a force to be reckoned with, and while I often lack confidence, I am just as often driven forward on stubborn, hard-headed passion alone. I like that about myself. 

You could even say I love it. 

Do You Love to Hate, or Do You Hate to Love?

Maybe this is why I'm single.

Maybe this is why I don't have very many long term relationships under my belt.

Maybe this is why I've never been married. 

Maybe this is why I'm not bitter, why I don't have a laundry list of "must-have" qualities in someone.

Maybe this is why I can still see the good in people, why I can take someone at face value.

Or maybe I'm just completely, one hundred percent right, and the rest of the world is wrong.

Whatever the reason, I just really, truly think that relationships should not be this difficult. 

Period. If you're working too hard to be happy, you're not with the right person. Your lobster would never require this much effort. And I think you should be able to be with your lobster.

Day One of my 30 Day Blog Challenge: Thoughts on Your Current Relationship, or of Your Current Single Status.

Nobody should be putting so much work into their relationship that it doesn't bring them any happiness. I know so many people who work harder on their relationship than they do on anything else; they put in so much effort, it's exhausting even to watch from the outside. They are constantly fighting an uphill battle, trying to force things, trying to find middle ground or compromise, just struggling to get it together with the person they're with. 

Why? Why are you doing that?! What is the payoff for putting in such a dramatic effort on a relationship that probably just isn't the right one for you? What kind of sadist are you? What is it about this person that makes you think you have to make it happen. that you have to force it to be successful?

Am I the only one in the world who would rather be single and wait for the right guy, than be in a forced, unhappy relationship just to be sure I always have someone around?

I know relationships take work; don't get my message twisted. I know that all relationships (and friendships, and family relationships for that matter) take compromise. And sincere effort. And selflessness. I get it. That's not what I'm arguing. I do know, accept, and understand that it's not always sunshine and butterflies in a relationship, and that there are moments and times that are hard. And that for the right person, you'll fight hard through those tougher moments and come out better on the other side. That happens in the duration of life with someone. 

I'm talking, though, about the people who are ALWAYS fighting to make it happen. I'm sorry, but if your relationship is more work than fun, more bad times than good, more stress than satisfaction...you are not in the right relationship. Just let it go and move on; you're annoying everyone else on Earth who already sees this going down the shitter.

At what point, when you're looking at your partner thinking of ways to destroy them so you can be happy, do you stop and think that perhaps you could do everyone (the two of you included) by just ending it? When does one arrive to the conclusion that a relationship should bring you at least some slight spark of joy, and that you haven't felt joy in so long you forget what it's like? I mean, people do get to that point, right? So why does it take so long? Why does it take so much fighting and energy? I just don't get it. It's like, before you can end you miserable, destructive anything-but-a-healthy-relationship, why do you have to destroy yourself from the inside first?

Hang on, we'll break up once we've both lost all hope for anything successful in the future.

It appears that it may just be me, but I would rather be single than date someone who hates me. I'm not sure at what point any of us were convinced (or who it was that convinced us) that a relationship need not bring joy or genuine happiness, but that as long as someone is waiting for us when we get home, that'll be good enough.

Good enough is absolutely not good enough!

Good enough should never be good enough. Not with a meal, not with an apartment or a place to live, not with a vacation, and certainly not with a relationship! Why do people think that's okay? Why do you think you have to settle? Why can't you let go of what's good enough in pursuit of something incredible?

You can.

I can.

In fact, I have.

Gone are my days of settling for something good enough, when I know there are men out there who do actually know how to make a woman swoon; how to really make someone tick. That's who I'm after. I feel like that's what we all should be after.

If you're with someone who doesn't make your heart beat faster, or who doesn't make your breath catch when they touch you, then what are you wasting your time for? If your partner can't understand you, appreciate and value you, or give you one hundred percent of themselves, then why are you wasting your energy? I remember one time my mom said to me, a relationship is not 50/50, a good one is 100/100. And that's so true. Do you give yourself a hundred percent to someone who gives you back the same hundred percent? If not, you're wasting your time. If not, you're selling yourself short. You're cheating yourself out of greatness with someone who will.

Relationships are hard.
They take work and energy and time and commitment.
They take communication. They take openness and honesty. They certainly take effort.
But, if a relationship feels like work and doesn't leave you happy at the end of the day, you're not in the right one.

Keep it moving.

I'm #AngryTyping Right Now

I make it a point to, for the most part, keep my professional life out of my blog. I think it's important that I don't log in at the end of a long day and complain about my job. The reality is, for the most part, I do like my job. I'm good at it. The mix of paperwork and customer service, along with the little bit of allowance to be a hard-ass bitch when necessary, is a great fit for my personality. But if I were to blog every time I had a hard day in the office, this blog would be a daily rant about the perils of property management.

Which actually, could be pretty entertaining. #bookidea.

Anyways, so in general, I keep my work rants to myself (and bitch about them to my coworkers).

That said, I was floored today after an interaction with a resident. Floored! My jaw hit the ground, and I was actually at a loss for words. Not because it was out of the ordinary or anything - this shit happens on the regular in my office, but just because I finally had this moment where all I could think was, what in the holy fuck is wrong with people?!?!

Basically, this woman in her early to mid fifties comes into the office and asks my assistant manager why she has a balance of six dollars on her account from the prior month. He pulls her account up and reviews it, and essentially, last month she simply did her fucking math wrong and was short on her utility check six bucks. No big fucking deal, just add six dollars to your new check, right?

Wrong.

She proceeds to argue about how she keeps meticulous records and carries on about all the reasons it must be our fault that she wrote the wrong amount on her check, and how she can't wait to move out of this place when her lease is up because I suck at my job and so does everyone else, and how the grounds look like crap with the leaves blowing everywhere, and the way that maintenance does everything they can to fuck her life up, and oh whoa the fuck is me and my sorry bull shit. So my assistant manager prints her account ledger to review with her where the - very simple and six fucking dollar - mistake was made, and lets her know she can simply write her check for an additional six bucks. No big deal, right?

Wrong.

She then proceeds to yell - full on yell - about how much she hates us, and goes storming out the door, muttering four letter words about how my assistant manager and everyone else in our office are nothing but dirty slutbag whores. But not until she has turned on one heel and SLAMMED the door to the office on her way out. And I am talking the type of door slam that someone does when they walk in on their boyfriend fucking someone else. The type of door slam only a toddler having a psychotic episode would muster. It was insane! She slammed the door so fucking hard, something fell off the door.

Again, it was not the instance that got me thinking. This honestly plays out in my office about once a week, with someone swearing or yelling, or threatening, or slamming the door. I usually laugh as they walk out, send them a notice letting them know they violated a lease policy about acting aggressively in the office, and go about my day. But today I just really started thinking more about it. About who the FUCK thinks it is acceptable to behave like a tornado for no fucking reason. Since when are we such an entitled population of fucking ass holes, that we think it is acceptable to fly off the handle on an innocent bystander? We, as people in general, take no responsibility for our own actions and simply place all the blame on other people instead of on ourselves. We do not admit fault or guilt, but instead make excuses. And then, after we are complete and total dickheads, we turn around and slam fucking doors! Because goddammityouwillfuckinghearmewheniammad!!

Today was one of those days that I left work feeling not just defeated as a property manager, but as a human. Today made me sad for mankind in general. Today made me embarrassed to be a living, breathing person existing among other living breathing people who act in a way that anyone with a soul would find offensive.Today was a reminder that we are surrounded by arrogance, by people who believe they are right and everyone else is wrong. And it pissed me off.

I think I'll slam a door. Because, noise makes a point.