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To The Edge of Almost-Love, and Back

posted 9th February 2010    Written by: Nicole Antoinette    CATEGORY: All Posts, Love/Relationships, Nicole Antoinette, Quarterlife Crisis, Season 2

There are two versions of the “I’m so spontaneous that I just up and moved to San Francisco” story.

There’s the version I usually tell, the one about how I was tired of being a professional nomad, how I wanted a fresh start, and how I was intoxicated with a city I barely knew.

Then there’s the deeper, more complete version. The one where I also moved to San Francisco for a guy I easily could have fallen in love with, had we made a left somewhere instead of a right.

I’m skipping over a few parts, of course, or rather I’m skipping over all the parts because now that I’m thinking about the perfect 21st century storm of it (girl writes blog, boy reads blog, girl and boy go from online to offline and back), it’s easy to see that he and I were all kinds of wrong for each other.

Isn’t that always how it is though? Retrospect sure is a feisty little bitch.

So that was then and this is now, and my roundtrip journey to the edge of almost-falling-into-someone has lead me to question what role love is really playing in my current life.

I look at my friends, the ones who are so much farther down this particular path than I am, women in their 20s who are engaged, or married, or starting a family, and I wonder about the process of loving the same person for the rest of my life.

I mean, if change is the only constant, and if I’m confident in the knowledge that I’m not exactly the same person I was a month ago and won’t be this same person a month from now, then how is it possible to be in love with one person for 50 years?

Maybe it’s not possible. Maybe the key is finding someone that you’ll be able to keep falling in love with, over and over, as you both change. For me, that means someone who’s so smart it makes my brain hurt. Someone who loves tea, and The West Wing, and Tuesday night dinners at outdoor restaurants. Someone who will play with my hair and read to me in bed, who isn’t uncomfortable with full frontal honesty, who knows what he wants, says what he means, and shows up when it matters.

And, since I’m pretty sure I can’t just Google “home address of my future husband,” I’m choosing instead to just enjoy the hell out of being deliciously single in a new city where there are a seemingly unlimited amount of people to meet and a dizzying number of possible dates to go on.

Oh, and that guy I moved here for? We’re friends. Or, more honestly, I’m working on us being the kind of friends who can talk and laugh and drink vodka and watch The Rachel Maddow Show without accidentally making bad decisions.

We’ll see how that goes.

Photo credit: suchitra

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All You Need is Trust

posted 8th February 2010    Written by: Kelly    CATEGORY: All Posts, Love/Relationships, Season 2

The Beatles almost had it right. ;)

I would probably have asked Mr. Lennon to add another keyword … that word being “Trust” – All You Need Is Love and Trust.

Let me start at the beginning …

I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life – I’ll be the first to admit it.

In one past serious relationship I was put through emotional, sexual and physical abuse.  I allowed someone to hold a sort of power over me … and it made me someone I wasn’t proud of.

I felt no self-confidence or self worth.  Everything in my world revolved around this person.  Not only was he aware of it; he took advantage of it.

Over the years, I worked hard to overcome that phase in my life.  I had to commit to learning about who I was, who I want to be, how to get there and what makes me happy.  To get through the past, I’ve had to focus on my current decisions.

The decisions that I now have control over.

The majority of the time, I am able to forget that piece of my past; I don’t like seeing that broken little girl.

Now, here I am in a new relationship.  After knowing each other for less than a month, I moved to San Antonio!  We both agreed that given the fast moving pace of our relationship, it was absolutely essential we dedicate to complete transparency.

This promise to each other didn’t just include the present; it included the past … for me, a past very difficult to come to terms with.

This is where the trust comes in.

What I realized very quickly into the process of disclosure was that I was prone to avoiding the details of my past by gently brushing reality with small lies that made it easier to deal with and communicate. While I know the truth of my past, I had never felt the need to disclose everything to another individual.  I found myself suddenly in a situation where the need for full disclosure was real.

As I went through the process, I realized that in order for someone to know me … really know me … they needed to understand the whole story – the context of my past and how that impacts my present outlook.

Owning up to my past has been an eye opening experience for me.  It’s led me down a number of enlightening paths and to realizations that I had never before discovered.  With a loving partner by my side, and with his same level of commitment, we were able to deconstruct, rebuild and truly open our eyes to how the past has led us to today.

This process required a level of commitment I had never previously experienced.

Had these hard conversations never taken place; who’s to know when and how the past would have manifested itself in my current relationship.  How could he have understood if I had never committed to helping him understand – and vice-versa? Instead, armed with the truth and understanding, we have the opportunity to deal with reality and aim for all the happiness that our path has to offer.

The truth hurts.  Knowing I have someone by my side that loves me, the true and complete me … past mistakes and all … makes it much easier to bear.

This new chapter in my life moves forward with a new found commitment to honesty and transparency with my partner.  It didn’t happen overnight and I know that it will require work going forward.

The love part was easy… that came in a heartbeat!  Trust is what I’ve had to work on and what I plan to keep central to my relationship – it won’t always be easy, but it will always be all I need!

What have you done to strengthen your relationship?  Any best practices?

Photo Credit: delgaudm

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Learning to Let Go of the Past

posted 4th February 2010    Written by: Katie    CATEGORY: All Posts, Katie, Quarterlife Crisis, Season 2, What I've Learned

INTRODUCING KATIE

I had a moment that changed the way I think about everything

I was blindsided by the Quarterlife Crisis, but in retrospect, I can pinpoint moments as far back as high school when I could have realized it was coming.

When I was 17, when everyone else was studying and prepping for college, I was working full time hours and had a much older boyfriend. I met him at work, he gave me the attention that I always wanted, and he had me at “you’re adorable. I love being around you.”

From there, it was a tumultuous 5 years filled with some ups, mostly downs, cheating, and financial ruins.

After I finally let that relationship go, but not enough to say I was ‘over it’, I dated a man closer to my age, without any experience. Anywhere. (Catch my drift?) He was into Psychology, and loved to analyze every hair on my head. I was interested in psychology and I liked to analyze him right back.  He was a student, he had a car, he had a job, he had a future planned that at times would include me.

I loved him, but had a difficult time showing it. Eventually we got tired of fighting, and we broke up. After a brief rekindle, we broke up again for good.

This breakup rocked my world, and not in a Michael Jackson kind of way. It was more of a “put my tender heart in a blender” kind of way.

2 months later,  last December, I got hit with a layoff.  The job that I was content with, at best, decided that they weren’t content with me, and let me go. The economy was horrible, I had no education, I was getting over a breakup, I was alone.

Everything had fallen apart, and I had no relationship, job, or education to lean on.

Super freakin’ Duper.

I lived the next 6 months in a depressed spending-haze. Unemployment checks would come in, and I’d head right out and buy things that I surely can’t remember or show you now. It felt good in the moment, but as with all unhealthy things, it ends up being something you lean on for support, but it doesn’t really do you any good.

As I spent those days, months, weeks, and years in emotional confusion and turmoil, I really didn’t grasp how much time was passing. Living for the moment worked for me, but I think I relied on that too much, for I didn’t make anything of those moments.

I gave up on opportunities. I started projects and never finished them. I accepted my depression and figured I’d just live with it forever.

I had a moment about a month ago that changed the way I think about everything. I was driving past my old high school, and each time I do, I do a little math in my head and think of how long it’s been since I “graduated”.  I realized it’s been 7 years.

7 years of feeling sorry for myself. 7 years of making excuses of why I would never make it. 7 years of unwillingly sabotaging myself of having a life that I deserved. In that moment I realized that it was time to not only live in the present, but to make the best of every moment.

So, here I am. I’ve made the realization, and am now trying to figure out what I want. I’m learning to be a little bit more selfish and a bit less selfless at times. I’m learning how to find my inner-most desires and making them happen. I’m learning to let go of the past, in order to make a happier future.

I’m learning to be me.

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Injecting a Little Passion in my Life

posted 3rd February 2010    Written by: Heather Rae    CATEGORY: All Posts, Heather Rae, Job/Career/Work, Quarterlife Crisis, Season 2

INTRODUCING HEATHER RAE

As life goes, I used to think I was doing things right.

Now, I’m not so sure.

I went to college, then grad school – I got a solid education.  I studied things that interested me, but I wasn’t necessarily following any great passion.  I was trying to be practical.  I should also confess that I was trying to make other people happy. If I wasn’t attempting to impress a professor, it was a boyfriend or some family member.

After being out of school for a while, life really looked good – on paper, that is.  I worked at a prestigious university, had a seven year relationship with a wonderful man, lived in a sought after zip code.  Yet, I looked around, and something just wasn’t right.  All that time spent impressing someone else left one person completely unimpressed – me.

So I decided it was time to make change.  What kind of change?  I had no idea.  I just knew I needed to inject a little passion in my life.

First things first, I had to figure out what to do about my career.  My job might have looked good on a resume, but it certainly didn’t look good on me.  It was boring.  Really, really, mind-numbingly boring.  The good thing about doing work that made picking my hangnails seem entertaining was that I had a lot of time to think.

So I did just that.

I researched, examined, even tried out, nearly every job that seemed remotely interesting. I read every career guide on the library shelf.  I took quizzes in magazines, had a psychic read my fortune and met with a career counselor.  They all told me the same thing:  my personality suited science and research. 

What? Seriously, that’s what I already did.  The career path was logical, practical and, it seemed, perfectly matched my natural tendencies.  Only, I was miserable.

So in the midst of all this career planning, and a seemingly endless lack of ideas, I did something different.

I stopped looking and took up hobbies.  I took classes at night at a local community college.  I started reading voraciously.  I took hula dance lessons and pole dance lessons.  I took drawing classes and bought books about art.  I started blogging.  I started writing.  And that’s when it hit me.

I fell in love with the idea of creating something. I wanted to write, make art, dance.

Of course, now that I had this newfound love, what was I supposed to do with it?  I’d always been told all this creative stuff made for great hobbies, but it sure as heck didn’t pay the rent.  Only a select few got that lucky.  And I wasn’t one of the lucky ones.

But then I had this thought:  why not? That’s right – why couldn’t I make a career out of writing novels or painting canvasses?  What made me limit myself to jobs that seemed practical?  There was no good reason.  I realized it was all just fear.

I told my fiancé about my wild ideas, perfectly ready to accept the disparaging look he was sure to give.  But instead, he cheered.  He said I should do it.  He was behind me 100%.  Wow, maybe I am one of the lucky ones.

So here I am, staring fear in the face.  I’m turning it all upside down.

As of last week, I officially quit my job.  I’m giving myself one year in which I’ll attempt to have it all (I would give myself a lifetime, but I really do have to eat and pay the rent) – I’m working to finish a novel, exploring the possibility of selling my art and finding time to travel.  I want to sleep under the stars, soak in hot tubs in the snow, go cycling, go rock climbing, go skinny dipping, learn another language.  I want to do all the things I’ve dreamed about but never had the guts to try.

Maybe I’ll fail.  But at least I’ll fail trying.  And perhaps – just maybe – I’ll be wildly successful.

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Can I Have the Last 24 Years Back?

posted 2nd February 2010    Written by: Nicole Antoinette    CATEGORY: All Posts, Nicole Antoinette, Quarterlife Crisis, Season 2, What I've Learned

INTRODUCING NICOLE ANTOINETTE

No one told me my Quarterlife Crisis would come with so much tequila.

I grew up on the move – Los Angeles, NYC, London, back to Los Angeles, back to NYC, back to Los Angeles. A whirlwind coming of age tour in the world’s cosmopolitan wonderland.

I did everything right. Aced high school, worked part time, rocked the extra curriculars, got into NYU, aced NYU (while still working and still rocking the extra curriculars), fell in love, fell out of love, made friends, lost friends, lived the life I had always been told I was supposed to live, graduated (a year early) with $50,000 in debt and a piece of paper that claimed I was summa cum awesome.

And then I cried.

Because I was 21 years old, in possession of one of the best educations student loans can buy, and all I had to show for it was a box of theme party costumes and a big fat hole where my life plan should have been.

The three years between then and now were filled with a lot of shenanigans- emotional, sexual, career wise and the like. I ran a children’s day camp for five summers, helped start a create-your-own cookie shop, worked an inhumane amount of hours, moved around a lot, broke two hearts, made a bucket full of bad decisions, came crashing into the reality of my mood disorder, started a blog, started therapy, and finally realized that the things I loved about my life didn’t outweigh the things that made me want to burrow into the ground and hide.

And then all of the sudden it was August 26, 2009 and I found myself quitting everything to live the life of a professional nomad, traveling around the country, crashing on couches, and trying to answer the big question:

What is authentic happiness and how can I start taking regular intravenous doses of it?

Three months went by; three months of seeing new things and meeting new people, three months of not having a routine, not having stability, and not having a definitive source of income or a guaranteed place to do laundry. The new things were great, the new people even better, but after three months I realized that life at the other end of the super-Type-A spectrum kind of sucks.

So it was back to Arizona, back to my parents’ house, back to slow cooked meals and late night talks with my mom about what, you know, the hell I was going to do with my life.

That was four weeks ago, but in the context of my story it feels like another lifetime. Four weeks ago, I woke up, realized that no one was going to hand me the life that I wanted, got in my car, drove to San Francisco, checked into a hostel, and jumped into the freshest of fresh starts, the kind where there is no backup plan and it’s time to fight like your life depends on it, because it does.

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