Yours truly,
Erin Terese
Written in the Rain
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Author Archives: Erin Terese
A Rose By Any Other Name
“A rose by any other name would smell as sweet”
Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, 1600.
A rose by any other name would smell as sweet. How very true, this notion that it doesn’t matter what you call something; it only matters what it truly is. But do we all apply this in our everyday life?
Let’s say for example, we have a woman named Jane. Jane grew up in Ohio, has two loving parents, three siblings, is a widow with a four year old son, and is wickedly smart, funny and kind. She is a wonderful friend and the kind of person that would give her jacket to a shivering stranger. Now, what does Jane do for a living? Jane is a Politician. Jane is a Pediatric Nurse. Jane is a Preschool teacher. Jane is a Preacher. Jane is a Prostitute. Is Jane by any other name, still as sweet?
Think about that for a second.
Did you hesitate for a moment on any of those occupations? And if so, why?
People are complex. It can never be as simple and as black and white as you may like it to be. We all possess many character traits, attributes, strengths and weaknesses. What is important to remember, is that you should not discount someone or their character because of one thing. It is not black and white. One thing does not cancel out another.
Jane is wickedly smart, funny and kind. She is a wonderful friend and the kind of person that would give her jacket to a shivering stranger.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am going to carry this thought with me today.
Yours truly,
Erin Terese
The Amazingly Resilient Heart
He: Baby, I need to talk to you tomorrow night. Can I come over after work?
Me: Whatever it is, just tell me now.
He: You aren’t going to like it.
Me: Okay, now you really need to tell me. What’s going on?
He: I don’t know what to do… I slept with this girl, she’s pregnant, and she’s keeping it. I really need you to be my friend right now.
Me: Wait. What? What are you talking about? Hold on a sec, I need to pull my car over real quick…
Gasp. Sob. Scream.
In the month preceding this conversation, he had been asking me on an almost daily basis to marry him. Baby, I can have a ring for you next week if you want one. While I loved him greatly, deeply and what I now understand is an unhealthy amount, I was hesitant. We had only been back together for a few months and I wanted to make sure that he had in fact changed, and that we were still a good fit. Something was off though, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. As it turned out, what was “off” about our relationship was that he was unsure of my love for him and had been seeking comfort in between the legs of his neighbor.
With a shaky voice, he told me all about the other girl and the baby on the way. Choking back tears, he begged for me to understand, to be his friend and to please stay with him. Like fools we tried to make it work. For two months we stayed together. I tried to forgive him, he tried to explain and together we discussed how this was going to work. Would we get married and share custody? Would we try for full custody? Day in and day out, I sat by as he went to doctor visits with her and canceled our plans every time the phone rang with another one of her “emergency situations” – she was a bit of a drama queen and trouble maker.
Finally, my heart hit the wall and I could not stand any more pain. Two months of fighting back tears at work, crying myself to sleep every night and living in a constant state of anxiety, almost broke me. For the sake of my sanity and realizing that I deserved better, I gathered my strength and walked away.
His son turned four this week.
My biggest fear was that I would become bitter and build a wall around my heart. What happened was the opposite. Sure, I was bitter with a wall up for a while (a long while actually), but ultimately my heart healed itself into a bigger and stronger version. I feel like I have the heart of a champion now. I swear! I constantly surprise myself with my ability to be vulnerable, open to love and simultaneously, open to rejection. What could have ruined me and made me a bitter old hag, has actually softened me and made me more compassionate. I could have forever hid behind a wall or shield around my heart, but I long to feel loved again and have faith that I can heal again if I need. I am not giving myself kudos here; I am simply stating that the heart is amazingly resilient. That if you allow it time to heal, and really and truly want to move forward, you will – and you will be even stronger when you do.
Just a little reflection on where I am now versus were I was four years ago at this time: in a drunk puddle of hysterical tears.
Yours truly,
Erin Terese
P.S. Yes, it got worse before it got better. Read this.
Once Upon a Plane
We embraced. I held her in my arms, gave one last squeeze and released. The cab driver grabbed my luggage, tossed it in the trunk and gave me a glare that seemed to say “Hurry up, Miss. I haven’t got all day”. Sadly, I slunk in the back of the cab and waved goodbye to my best friend. We had just spent an amazing week together exploring the boroughs of New York and it was time for me to return to the land of perpetual sunshine and surfboards. As the cab pulled away, I watched her fade into the distance. There she was, standing in front of a beaten and bruised brick building in Brooklyn, adorn in a brightly patterned dress and about to walk back in to a room filled with artists and life enthusiasts. And there I sat, about to head home to a place I couldn’t have been more disconnected from. My bright eyes dulled by a city of people wanting nothing more than to conform to the norms of society.
Tears filled my eyes as we pulled on the freeway. Slowly, the city started to escape me. I could feel my friend growing farther away from me and the city fading away, as if it were only a dream. My heart and soul screamed inside me, begging my mouth to speak. Wanting my hands to pull at the door handle and for my legs to sprint back to the city that felt more like home, but all I could do was try and stifle the tears. My fear of the unknown kept me from charging after the life I so badly wanted and kept me paralyzed in the stale smelling cab heading to JFK. Brimming with tears and not wanting to cry in front of the cab driver, I tried to think of happier thoughts. Then the rain began to fall. With each drop that landed on the window, it became more difficult to contain them. The rain grew in its intensity and with it, my emotions. Finally I gave in, and slowly and quietly I let the tears roll down my cheeks, matching in rhythm the rain drops that were washing away the dirt and grime on the streets of Manhattan. By the time we arrived at the airport, I barely had the strength to thank the driver, grab my bags and head inside. It was as if my heart had become filled with lead in an attempt to anchor me there.
I checked my bags, made my way through security and melted in to a worn chair in the terminal. Secretly I hoped that the rain would become a storm and that the flight would be canceled. To my dismay, the woman over the loudspeaker assured me not to worry, that the flight would depart as scheduled. When my section was called, I gathered my things and made my way to the plane. Typically I would scan the aisle intently, searching for the most handsome man or most interesting person to sit next to. This time, all I could manage was to look for an empty seat. Front, back, aisle, window, I could have cared less. As soon as I was situated, buckled and strapped in for the long flight back to San Diego, the speaker announced that we would remain on the tarmac for another 30 minutes while we waited for the rain to lift. What a tease! Torture. The city was holding me in her grip. A half answered prayer, I was allowed 30 more minutes to dream, yearn and reminisce on my week there. I drifted out of the moment and in to a vision of museums, parks, Broadway Shows, night clubs, lost purse adventures, exotic men, oysters at Grand Central Oyster Bar and laughter and dancing with my best friend and partner in crime. Damnit. Leaving her and leaving the city was harder than I expected.
Achoo! The guy sitting next to me sneezed. Without thought, I responded “God bless you”. A few minutes later, he asked if he could borrow my phone to make a quick phone call. Extremely embarrassed, I told him I didn’t have my cell phone with me and explained that I left my purse in a cab the first night I was in New York, basically gifting my iPhone to the cab driver. He smirked, gave his sincerest condolences for my loss, and thus began our flight long conversation. From take off to touch down, we spoke on nearly every topic imaginable. We talked about our childhood, discussed our education and what was lacking in it, complained and shared hopes for our careers. When it came to our shared passion for music, I think we babbled on for two hours, maybe more. He, a song writer, guitarist and cello player. Me, a singer and lover of most genres. Album names, specific songs, feelings evoked, memories attached – all of this explored as if it were part of a very serious social experiment and study. We continued on. We shared our stories of falling in love and tales of heartbreak. We both had experienced betrayal in our heartbreak, and we shared the dirty details. Details that may not have been shared with more than a few close people in our lives. We unleashed ourselves. For nearly seven hours, we shared our stories and were completely vulnerable knowing we most likely would never meet again.
When the wheels touched down, I felt renewed. I had found someone that understood every word I spoke and I was confident that I would find more like minded souls to join me on my journey. Somewhere in the sky, I had found peace. Maybe it was over the Rockies or during the rant about our shared disdain for laundry; but somewhere along the way, I became calm and comforted. This was the first time I was able to pinpoint in the exact moment why someone was sent to me. I knew it then, and I know it now. When our conversation began, I was sad and discouraged. By the time we hugged and waved goodbye at baggage claim, I felt like a brand new person. My worries and doubts were gone. Any sadness that lingered in my heart was over powered by the beauty of our connection. It was a first glimpse at the simplicity and power within our connection as humans. That moment captured me and stays neatly tucked in the corner of my heart.
Life is a series of moments. Some fated. Some serendipitous. Some happenstance. In each of these moments, there is an opportunity to learn a life lesson and more about yourself. That rainy April day, I learned a lot.
Yours truly,
Erin Terese
P.S. My airplane friend and I remain friends to this very day. In fact, I awoke this morning to a message regarding a new album recommendation. Thank you, my friend!
A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words
Sober October – Personal Quest
Alcohol is part of life in Wisconsin, where I grew up. Like many states, countries, cities and cultures throughout the world, it is part of most social engagements. Wine on a romantic dinner date or ladies night. Beer during the football game or on a boat on the lake. Champagne to celebrate an anniversary or promotion. Cocktails at a concert, at a ski resort or on a lonely Friday night. There is always an excuse to drink. It is no wonder I started at the age of 15, which was actually not as early as some of my friends that started at 12. No one thought it was odd; it was almost expected. My parents would have been disappointed to know this, but I knew kids in my High school whose parents bought them liquor and let them have friends over to drink illegally. Who were they to judge since they had a six pack or more a few days a week, children to care for, and drove? This set the stage for my relationship with alcohol.
I didn’t start out drinking in moderation – I binge drank. Drank until I puked. Drank until I blacked out. Made out with boys I never in a million years would have kissed sober. Very classy and respectable, you can imagine. Ugh. Once I had a boyfriend, I slowed (a bit). Clearly it is not attractive to be that sloppy in front of the man you love, so I tried my best to contain myself. Sometimes I succeeded! Sometimes I failed, which resulted in a much dreaded talk about my drinking and behavior – all with red eyes, a fuzzy head and nauseous stomach the next morning. Oh joy. I have had more than enough shining moments that should have caused me to stop completely, but instead I have tried to find a balance so that I can keep it in my life. I love it!
When I maintain the balance, which I am much better at now, it is really wonderful. The warm sensation and robust flavors in red wine seduce me and please me in so many ways. Wine is my vice. There are so many varietals of wine, so many flavors to unlock and secrets to taste in every sip. Adventure and exploration roll over my tongue as I try to uncover the distinct flavors and subtleties within the glass. I could definitely abandon the tequila, vodka and gin, but oh, I would hate to abandon my red wine! She and I are besties. We have been through thick and thin together. But just like any friend, we have our ups and downs. Sometimes I see her daily, weekly, for hours on end or not for weeks at a time. Every once in a while, we spend way too much time together and I need a break from her. She tires me and makes me need some time alone. Time to reset and remember who I am without her – that as much as she enriches the moments in my life, I exist without her. I thrive fully on my own and she just makes my days brighter. She is not a necessity – she is a bonus.
I disagree with the notion that you cannot live without someone. Attaching yourself that much to any person or thing is not healthy. When you tie your happiness to someone/something else you limit your potential happiness and open yourself up to horrible disappointment and grief. Happiness lies within – I know this now. I have learned this from my mistakes and I do not want to make the same mistakes again. I do not want to feel dependent on any person, any one thing or any bottle of red wine. I can be happy on my own, without it, and it is important I remember that. Plus, my wine habit is hard on my liver, my wallet, my productivity and on my waist line. For these reasons, I have given up drinking for the month of October.
Giving up alcohol for the month directly coincides with my goal for 2012: to make better choices in my life. This is no small task and I keep tripping and stumbling along the way, but I am trying. I am finally at a place in my life where I am truly happy with who I am and am fully aware that my circumstances are a direct result of my thoughts and actions. I have no one to blame. No one that can act as my scapegoat – there is just me. If I want something to change, if I want something to be different, it is up to me to make it happen. And as we know, it all starts with the power of that first thought. Then we take that thought and dream about it, envision it, and we make it grow into our action and our future.
I started a business this year. I recorded a song with a friend. I had a poem and article published. I have met some amazing new friends, strengthened existing relationships and let some friendships take a backseat during this process. My dating life has been a bit all over the map, but I have tried to be open, honest and much more patient that I normally would be. I feel confident, capable and worthy of the good things in my life. But I want more good. I want to write more, sing more and really grow my business. I want to have more energy and lose the 5lbs I gained over summer. How do I plan to do this? Sober October! My bestie (Red Bottle of Malbec) and I have been hanging out too much again, so this month she is taking a backseat.
I put up a simple post on Facebook and from that post I started a Facebook Group Page with over 40 members and about 20 of us that are really taking this Sober October seriously. Together, we have committed to a month of healthy habits. We are eating healthy, working out, focusing on our work and side project, and not drinking. So far, we all feel great! We are sharing recipes, workout trends and success stories. Taking a month off is not as difficult as I expected and it certainly helps to have cheerleaders along the way. Together we are moving toward the future we want for ourselves. Together we are sharing our ambition and helping one another to succeed. Together we grow in our strength, our motivation and in our personal quests.
A simple thought. Envisioned. Shared. Action. = Future!
Yours truly,
Erin Terese
Hello, My Love.
Hello My Love,
I am writing in hopes that your eyes land on this letter. That you read my words and know that they were meant for you. One small thing… I do not know who I am addressing – partially yes, but not in the way most people mean when they say that they know someone.
Let me explain.
I can feel you. I can feel your heart flutter when you are nervous and excited. My cheeks warm as you become heated with embarrassment by a joke made at your expense. My lips curl and twist as your mouth exhales laughter and sarcasm. Perhaps it is most apparent when I am outside and a breeze washes over me. As it first sweeps over me, I become aware of the coolness. Letting the brisk air roll over my arms and through my fingers, I ever so gently tilt my head back and allow it to pass through my hair. It lifts and separates the strands, releasing the heat that was building beneath my long flowing locks.
These moments once escaped me. I did not notice the beauty around me or the joy in that moment – the connection to you and the world around me. Then one day, I felt it. I felt you. As I began to notice it was evidence you exist, I let myself embrace those moments.
Near a trolley station or in a park. In a grocery store parking lot or walking to grab a cup of coffee from the local café. When the breeze picks up, I know it’s you. Whether you have sent it for me to say hello, or it is the ripple effect of your laughter or tears, I know it’s from you. I revel in these moments. They bring me such joy and peace. Such hope and relief. Knowing you exist, that you are out there, I send my love to you.
I send my love to you often. With the purest intent, it is sent out into the universe to find you. I quiet my mind and focus my feelings of love and care and send it your way. Under my breath in a crowded room, I whisper it. I cannot hold it in or deny that it exists. I can feel you and know that you are there, sending your love to me. Your intention for me. Thank you.
I wonder if we have met. Were we in the same café in Europe? Do we both read in the same park? Have I passed you on the street? Have we met? Have we spoken? Will we ever meet? While I would love to know the answers to these questions, it is enough that I can feel you and know that you exist. Whether or not we ever meet, I am so grateful that I am able to bask in your light. You experience life in a way that makes my days brighter. You are truly amazing and I adore you. I send you my love and hope that you receive it. I send you my love and hope that you feel worthy of it, and believe that it is true and honest. I send you my love and hope that it warms your heart and makes your eyes sparkle and dance, the way you do for me.
Thank you. Thank you. I love and adore you.
Yours truly,
Erin Terese
She Thinks Too Much
She thinks too much. Time and time again she has been told this. Yet time and time again, she doesn’t care. It is as much a part of her as an olive in her martini. Without it there would be no point. She would have it no other way.
To her, the sun shines brighter. Some days it dances in her eyes. Some days it seduces her, beckons her and slowly guides her out in to the world. Other days, it is cruel to her, bearing down on her without apology or remorse. But she would rather the seduction or the cruelty, than the abandonment when the sun finds shelter in the clouds and hides itself from her.
True, she could have her martini dry or lemon flavored with a sugar rim – but to her there is no other way than with her trusty friend, the green olive. A little bitter with a touch of salt and burst of flavor, it complements the clear and straightforward gulp that follows.
She thinks too much.
Yours truly,
Erin Terese
Are you openly affectionate?
There is something that intrigues me. I am not quite sure when or why this happens, but I feel like most of us are victims of this. We fear showing too much affection.
Why is this? Why do we hold back? When did it start?
Although most adults ration their affection, there is an exception I have noticed: people love to love on babies. It is common for strangers to walk up to babies and speak to them. To tell them how pretty they are. To ask if they can hold the baby. Okay, maybe not everyone shows so much affection toward just any baby, but imagine the baby is your child. Your niece or nephew. Your grandchild. Your best friend’s baby. Do you hesitate to hold the baby? Do you tell the baby how beautiful and smart they are? Do you pet, cuddle and coo with the baby? For most people, there is little hesitation. Most people are much more openly affectionate with babies and young children than other adults in their lives.
While showing affection to children is wonderful, absolutely necessary and a very beautiful thing, why don’t we show that same amount of love and affection to everyone in our lives? Why don’t we tell our friends, family and lovers how beautiful and smart and perfect they are? Yes, I know we say it, but not as openly, freely or frequently as we do with young ones.
It has taken me years to get comfortable with being openly affectionate. I regularly tell my friends and family members how much I love them, why I love them and how greatly I appreciate their presence in my life. I hug them. I touch their arm when I speak to them. I gently rub their back when they cry. Yet I know that sometimes I still hold back. The fear grips me that it might not be reciprocated. That it may be perceived as insincere if I say it too often or show it too much. That it might be mistaken as romantic interest rather than the simple affection I intended to convey.
When did simply showing affection become so complicated and convoluted?
Regardless of the fear. Regardless of the assumptions others may make. Regardless of the outcome. I vow to be openly affectionate. I will try my best to show my affection for others as freely as I do to that of young cooing, cuddling, adorable, perfect little babies.
What do you think? Do you hold back? Do you know why?
Curious.
Yours truly,
Erin Terese
Grieve It and Let It Go.
After receiving some very heartfelt comments on my last post and reflecting on my personal experience with grief, I would like to discuss the importance of grieving loss. It took me twenty years to let go of a sorrow I had not dealt with properly. While trying to heal my broken heart from a failed relationship, I discovered I had not properly dealt with the death of my grandfather. Here are a few words on what I learned:
Grieving loss is extremely vital in the healing process. In order to move past the loss and approach life with passion, zest and a solid sense of self, we must address the loss we experience. Whether the loss is the death of a loved one, the death of a marriage (AKA divorce) or a life altering illness (death of a planned future), we must face and acknowledge the loss and deal with all of the emotions that come with it.
Mourning and grieving affect people differently. Some people cry. Some people argue. Some people drink. Some people have sex. Some people shout from the Facebook Mountain Top! While all of these things may help release tension in the moment, what is most effective long-term is taking time to think. Time to reflect. You need to uncover why you are so sad and lost. Are you lonely? Do you feel abandoned? Are you afraid you will never be loved again? Do you feel unworthy of love? What do you really want out of life? What would truly make you happy? As you address these questions, you may need to dig back, way back, through your life to get to the root of the answers. This is one of the reasons people often feel as if they are moving backward in the healing process; the feeling of being more lost and more lonely than before the healing process began. This is totally normal. Really, it is!
Here is what is happening: as you uncover why you feel a certain way about something, you are able to see how that has affected your life. These deep seeded issues affect how we treat others, how we treat ourselves and how we view the world. It is common to feel guilty that you didn’t recognize and address this earlier. If you find yourself holding on to guilt, you need to let it go. Holding on to it benefits no one. You need to forgive yourself. Part of this process is apologizing to those you have wronged. People may be receptive to your apology or they may not; and that is okay. The point is that you are taking ownership over your choices. You are taking control over the direction of your life.
Now, if the person you have wronged is yourself, then issue a heartfelt apology to yourself. Vow to make a change. Promise yourself you will treat yourself better. Forgive yourself and move forward. Continue on the healing path and allow yourself as much time as you need. Each person heals in their own time; there is no standard time frame. The important thing is that you keep going until you are able to release all of the things that have been weighing you down and holding you back.
Reading this, hell, knowing this, will obviously not change things overnight. The change starts with you. You have to want more for yourself. You have to be willing to take a hard look at your life and your choices. But honestly, you are amazing. You are. If the world hasn’t acknowledged you for it, it’s only because you are still holding back. You are amazing and you need to get comfortable with that fact. Be your authentic self and tackle your issues. I promise that if you move forward with the intent of living a life filled with love, passion and purpose, peace will find you. Just keep moving. Do not be discouraged by the length of time it takes. This process will yield one of the greatest gifts you will ever receive: inner peace and a deep love for yourself.
Yours truly,
Erin Terese
erin terese 