Tag Archives: friendship

Avoid, Rinse, Repeat. – I am breaking the cycle.

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I struggle with when to stay and when to walk away in romantic relationships, friendships and even in my career.  This is a sensitive subject for me.  In order to discuss this and have any kind of opinion on the matter, I am going to be vulnerable and air my dirty laundry for all to read.  I don’t like this.

So here it goes…

I don’t think I really noticed how wounded I was until I started writing this blog.  I didn’t fully understand how strongly I hold my loved ones in my grasp.  I didn’t realize that some I would fight for endlessly and others I would let slip away as if they had meant nothing to me. To the outsider, it may seem haphazard – but there is surely a rhyme and definitely a reason.

The thing is, it is the same thing every time.  I will fight to save and help and encourage the people in my life.  To no end.  When they call, I am there. Even if it has been years, my heart beats for my loved ones.  I truly carry their heart in my heart.  This is true until this one thing happens.  Until I think that I might be left. If I fear that I may be at fault, have done any wrong and that I might be abandoned, I leave. I rewrite what has happened in my head and make it seem as if it was my choice to be drama free – when really I was guarding my heart.  And wounding it further along the way.

Same story, different boyfriend, lover, friend – every time. Avoid, Rinse, Repeat.

And yes, some of those relationships are better left where they lay.  It was a blessing.  But some could have been nurtured.  Some I could have taken the time to reach out again and listen with a patient heart.  I could have asked to hear what I had done, if anything, that lead to the growing canyon between us.  But my standard response was to speculate and write the story in my head. As if I knew. As if there was anyway I could really have known what happened.

My cowardice in confrontation has left me with lost friendships and lovers that perhaps could have been life-long friends or loves of my life, had I not been so fearful of their judgment.  Had my insecurities and childhood wounds not left me so fearful of being brokenhearted. And on the flip-side, I may not have even been their friend or lover had I not been seeking their approval in the first place.  Knowing this is a trip.

What I have learned from all of my writing, the endless hours dissecting my thoughts, and countless hours learning to quite my mind, is the truth. The essence of me. (And I know many of you are going to relate to this) I have a large heart.  A big one.  I could fill a football stadium with my loved ones. I would fly around the world and scale the highest mountain to help any one of those dear ones.  But have I always given myself that same amount of love and dedication?  Sadly, I have not.  Not until now.

nurture

Now I am going to fight to save and help and encourage myself in this life.  This means that I will lean into the discomfort of conversations to find the truth.  I will no longer walk away when things get scary, I will stay and talk them through and hug everyone on the way out – whether it is for the last time or if I will see them bright and early the next morning.

I am giving up on the idea of never.  The idea that you have to even walk away. It doesn’t have to be a forever goodbye, slam the door in your face and never hear from you again.  It can be a “So long my friend, I wish you the best.  I love you.  Until will meet again”.  Because guess what?  Life is short.  It is crazy.  There are twists and turns and chapters we can never imagine. Leading characters may fade into the back, and supporting characters may swoop in and save the day.

You never know.

To assume and wonder and speculate does no one any good.  Ask for your answer.  Hear it with an open heart.  If you do not get an answer, then do your best to release it and bless it on the way out – “until we meet again”.  Or at least that is my plan.  Instead of “Avoid, Rinse, Repeat” it is “Love, Nurture, Forgive”.

Yours truly,

Miss Erin Terese

Why am I thankful? Let me tell you.

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Last week I gathered with seven of my girlfriends for a lovely Vegan Thanksgiving Dinner.  We have been having meatless dinners every two weeks for the past five months and creating delicious meals that feed our bodies, nourish our souls, and we also happen to have fabulous conversation and wine to wash it all down.  When we first began to meet, we crafted our shared mission, laid out our guidelines and thus began our journey. The thing about journeys, as we have all learned, is that there is so much that is unplanned.  And there in the life and the ish and the serendipity lies the magic.

Thanksgiving is not a Holiday that I normally feel very strongly about.  By now we know that Christopher Columbus was not a very good man and that what was done to the Native Americans was cruel and wrong on so many levels. But we Americans continue to celebrate regardless.  Hopefully most people embrace this holiday as a chance to reflect on what they are thankful for, what makes them grateful and then share these feelings with close friends and family.  I’m not sure about most families, but mine doesn’t typically reflect aloud (although I don’t believe I have ever initiated or suggested that we do). I simply take a moment and say my thanks within my mind, and maybe send a few thankful texts and a Facebook shout out.

During our Vegan Thanksgiving Dinner, my amazing friend Kat mentioned that we forgot to say our thanks.  Wait, people actually do that?  The idea excited me, but I was immediately struck with the thought Oh, crap!  Now I need to think of something quick.  How do you say on the spot what you are thankful for?  Luckily I was second to last, so I had a little time to formulate my answer.  As my friends began to speak, I couldn’t help but to hang on their every word and was completely moved by their answers. Thanks was given for friendship while husbands were away on military leave.  For friendship during breakups and makeups and hard times. For nieces and nephews.  For making new friends, having a safe place to speak and empathetic ears to bend.  For new jobs and traveling adventures. For fertility treatment and twins on the way.  For health and success in business.

While my friends were speaking, I was hit with my answer: I am thankful to be living now, in this day and age.  As a 29 year old single female, I cannot tell you how glad I am to be living in this era.  As women in America, we have the freedom to live our lives as we choose.  Up until recently, women have had to abide by the the lifestyle laid out before them.  This usually consisted of marriage, a lot of babies and tending to the home.  In the last century, women in America have been making great strides.  We can be gay, straight, bisexual, single, married, divorced, educated, fit, overweight, employed, living on welfare, vote, travel, follow whichever religion we choose, pursue whatever career we like, have children, not have children, garden, have a personal chef.  We have the technology, the freedom and the education to play a hand in our fate. We are empowered.

I can choose the life I want and pursue it with little judgment.  Obviously there is judgment in the world, but there is more acceptance and tolerance than ever before.  There is someone in your corner now, cheering you on and propelling you forward.  A century ago, I would have been considered an old hag.  Too old to marry. An outcast.  Or most likely, I would have fallen in line with the steps of society: married, working in the home and having my fourth child. I am so grateful for the life I lead.  My friends and family accept me, I pursue every passion and idea that crosses my mind and strikes my fancy, and I express myself openly and share myself fully.  I know that for every person that judges me, there is someone else reaching out to give me a hug and thank me for being my authentic self.

I am thankful to be empowered.

I am thankful to be living now, in this day and age.

What are you thankful for?

 

Yours truly,

Erin Terese

Renewal

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The Daily Post issued a Photo Challenge asking bloggers to share a photo of what Renewal looks like to them.

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Life is all about timing.  If you ask any one person the same question during different times in their life, you will most likely receive very different answers.

Over the weekend I went on a short trip to Palm Springs with a girlfriend of mine.  We both had a three day weekend and were in desperate need of a mini getaway.  Luckily, it didn’t take long before the fresh air, beautiful scenery and friendly locals had us smiling from ear to ear.  While our bodies were tired from exploring, our minds were alert and thriving on the beauty around us and wonderful conversation.  Before leaving the hotel, we decided to lay by the pool in our clothes and let the sun wash over us.  Grateful for the trip and our shared joy, we laid back and let the sun shine upon us, bathing us in her beauty.

As I reclined in my lounge chair, spirit soaring with peace and renewed energy, I snapped this shot.

Yes, this is renewal.  Fresh air. Nature. A good friend. Sunshine.

Yours truly,

Erin Terese

Once Upon a Plane

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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!

 

Are you openly affectionate?

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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

Lessons in Friendship

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Friendship has never been a simple topic for me. In my adolescent years it couldn’t have been more confusing.  As much as I yearned to be an average girl or even an average kid for my age, I never was.  I was spinning within the confines of my mind trying to make sense of the world around me.

Luckily, my parents were wonderful.  Extremely open-minded and kind, they allowed me to experience the world in her best shades.  They never pressured me to be anything but happy. They encouraged me to think independently.  My opinion was nearly always asked. It was always considered and their decision explained.  I rarely felt slighted or undervalued. I felt loved.

Having such a solid family foundation, it was difficult to relate to children who were mostly judgmental, spoke frivolously and were extremely concerned with impressing others.  Eventually I caved and began to fit the mold.  I had grown tired of standing out and not having close friends.  I made the effort to make friends, and it worked.  I listened to how they spoke, how they acted, dressed and I emulated them.  I faked it until it became my reality.  The real me was always there, but with a pretty little facade I had so carefully crafted to cover my true identity.

For most of my preteen, teenage and young adulthood I shied away from sharing my deepest thoughts.  I only allowed a select few to hear the inner ramblings of my untamed soul and shadows of my mind. Everyone else was happy to know the filtered me.  The one presented to them on a platter of trained responses and stifled thoughts.

Eventually I grew tired and began to speak my truth – to gradually show my many shades to the large group of friends I had obtained.  I distanced myself from the ones that were inhibiting my growth and shared myself more with the ones I had always connected more deeply with.  Surprisingly, my thoughts were welcomed with open arms.  Well, not always, but the majority of the time.  Being the most honest and pure form of myself has brought me such great joy and an amazing sense of connectedness to the people with whom I have chosen to share myself with.

I now find friends everywhere I go. What, may you ask, do I consider a friend?  Someone who is honest.  Someone who tells you how they feel.  Offers an ear to bend, a shoulder to lean on and advice when asked.  Someone who helps you because they want to see you succeed, not because they will benefit from it. Someone who accepts you and loves you for your unique and quirky self. I offer this freely now.  Those that appreciate and reciprocate are like family to me.  I have so many amazing friends and the list is growing.  They fill my heart, enrich my soul and hold my hand from miles away.

I am so thankful for the friends in my life – family included.  The honesty we share binds us.  While it is sometimes a struggle and I fear for the response to my honesty, it really is best.  When it comes from a pure place of love and compassion, the receiver will know it.  Being vulnerable is where it’s at!  Vulnerability is not a weakness – it’s a strength.

Thank you to all my compassionate, thoughtful, passionate and vulnerable friends.  You make my days brighter. I love you.

Yours truly,

Erin Terese