yesterday i listened to a podcast stephanie allynne was on and she said at one point before they started dating she wrote tig this long email pouring her heart out about how she really liked her but they couldnāt date because she was straight and tig just repliedĀ āokay dykeā and iām still screaming about it
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Most Things Donāt Matter: Vol. 1
You know when youāre a kid and you think youāll have such a cool life once youāre 16, then itās 18, then itās 21, then itās, I donāt know, a cooler time in your 20s when you think you will for sure have found your perfect job and soulmate and are loaded and can throw on any shirt and pant combo and look like youāreĀ ānot trying too hardā and then that age gets pushed back further and further until you realize youāre still the same you in a lot of ways at all these ages? Well, that finally hit me. Surprise, surprise. None of us ever reach an all finished, youāve won at life, everything is so great point. Thereās always total shit parts. You just become better equipped at not letting them ruin the other parts of your life.Ā
I talk in run-on sentences. I write in run-on sentences. Just go with it.Ā Ā
These last two years have been rough. I didnāt think they had been that rough until I gathered the sense to start seeing a therapist again and during our first session she saidĀ āoh, youāve been through a lot of trauma.ā In my mind, trauma means getting your limbs ripped off by a shark and having to tell everyone all about it for the rest of your life. (Honestly, which experience is worse? Iām gonna go with telling your business to a stranger who wonāt stop gawking at you in a gas station.)Ā
Anyway, letās begin the highlight reel:Ā
I moved halfway across the country in 2016. Got to Austin on a Friday and got dumped on the following Monday. On the 4th of July, nonetheless. Freedom aināt free, yāall. She wanted to be free. (As I said to myself, crying in bed watching Jim and Pam clips on loop.) This is the tricky part. I think I knew deep down our relationship wasnāt going to work out in the long run. Now, did it hurt when, less than a year after breaking up with me, she was already engaged and living with a taller, skinnier, Martha Stewart version of me? Maybe. I DONāT KNOW. Yes. Yes, it did. I cried in a bar bathroom when I found out.Ā
But really, it began to hit me, we both tried for so long to make something āgoodā into something āgreat.ā Whether you believe in marriage or not, the idea of having to try so hard for so long probably isnāt a a glowing sign for happy days ahead. Things began to become clearer. I wasnāt heartbroken over missing out on my future spouse; I was heartbroken over missing out on my best friendās life going forward. We had been through too much together. I donāt think many people are capable of attempting to build a future with someone for years and then being able to switch it off and be buddies. We had to go our separate ways. The hardest part of ending a romantic relationship for me has always been the person closest to you becoming a stranger.Ā
I donāt let go easily. Iām a packrat. Iām sentimental. I fear change as if itās a life threatening illness.Ā I had to let go.Ā I was killing myself playing the what if game.Ā I let go of trying to figure out if it could have been different, if I wouldnāt have done this, or actually done that. I let go of feelings. I let go of anger. I let go of actual possessions connected to the relationship. I had to let go for good. It was a chapter of my life needing to be closed. A very big chapter. One of the best and worst and scariest and most meaningful chapters of my entire life. Moving on is a process. It takes days and weeks and months and years of making a consistent choice not to get lost in the past and letting it ruin your goddamn present. And yet, somehow, some day, you just start looking at their Instagram less. You start thinking about them less. You stop wincing when you hear their name. You begin feeling lighter. You begin feeling okay without that person.Ā
However, it is 2018. I work in social media. Of course, I fucking creeped on wedding photos and videos. And this is going to sound like bullshit, but I was happy for them. Tears in my eyes, watching the end of a new episode of Queer Eye type of joy, because theyāre happy. Like really happy. Obnoxiously so, too beautiful for words, god this better happen for all of us kind of happy. Two people found each other and as jaded and cold as I attempt to be with myĀ āIām basically Cerseiā exterior, Iām goo inside. Probably queso. Very sappy queso. I love love and I hate it about myself. But I also know itāll work out for me eventually.Ā
This is already becoming much longer than I intended.Ā
Iāve avoided writing for a long time because I knew Iād have to feel everything thatās happened all over again. For me, writing has always been the hardest thing to start and easiest to actually do once I start. Itās sort of the last piece of the puzzle in letting go for me. The nail in the coffin. (That sounds more violent than Iād like, but you get the point.) Iāll save the next bullet points of trauma for next time.Ā
TayĀ
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Thirty, worried but trying.
I've started this post an embarrassing amount of times. Iāve erased so much. Itās been a long time since Iāve felt like Iāve had anything to say that was worth typing out for another human to read. But a couple of weeks ago Tay and I sat on her couch for 5+ hours spewing thoughts on the things weāve learned and felt since the last time we really gave this a go. Itās weird for me to type this at 30 after reading back to the last posts we really wrote years ago. Itās unfortunate to think of how long I allowed myself to believe I shouldnāt write things like this anymore because I had nothing left to say. Well, I do. And Iām 30 now soā¦ that means Iām automatically like a genius. The blind optimism that forced us out of our own heads 10 years ago is still kicking around. Whatās been happening in the interim? Not much. JUST KIDDING.
We moved to LA. We were paid to write. Paid to perform. We hustled and worked. Cried quite a bit. Got some good laughs. Wrote some more stuff. We moved away. (We moved to separate places for the first time in many years. I sobbed the whole way to the car the last time I saw her in her LA apartment.)
My husband and I moved back home to Pennsylvania. It was humbling to come back when everyone is sure youāre here because youāre either broke or pregnant. Itās not a particularly fun or interesting story when it ends with a natural and practical transition.
It was exciting leaving a job I truly hated.
It was tough finding out where we fit in here once we were back.
Itās hard when youāre paranoid you made a mistake.
Itās easy when in your bones you know you made the right choice.
Itās scary starting over.
I took a 6 month ācomedy leaveā now Iām sometimes scared Iām no longer going to be funny or the same. A ridiculous thought.
Iām learning to be more reliant on the people around me. Iāve always been the advice and comfort giver. Itās tough learning how to be on the other side.
Iām pushing myself to try new things. Did you know if you tell people about stuff youāre working Ā on they might ask you about it again and it will make you feel weird enough to maybe actually do it?
Weāre starting a garden this year. Iām getting into painting again. Iām writing new jokes and material. Iām typing this here now.
Iām 30 and I still donāt know what the hell Iām doing.
Maybe not that much has changed.
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the most legendary lyric of my generation tbh
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Films that I LOVE: A timeless work of Beauty. A stunning depiction of the bonds you make with childhood friends. A perfect film.
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