I am a bad friend.

I fell asleep during our text conversation and I meant to message you back the next morning. I was excited to catch up with you and hear all about the awesome traveling you’ve been doing. When I woke up the next morning, it was a bad morning. my anxiety was through the roof and I hadn’t slept well. So I tried to throw myself into work and promised I would get back to you when I was in a better headspace. I didn’t want to bring my negativity to the conversation.


Oh, my dear friend. I’ve been meaning to email you. It’s been so long since we talked. We keep doing drive-by “hellos” in Hangouts, promising that we’ll catch up. I want to. I want to call you and hear your voice. But by the time I’m in a good place, you’re asleep. And the cycle begins again. Every time I want to break it, anxiety fills me, reminding me I’m a bad friend and I shouldn’t bother you.


I see your posts on Facebook. I reach out with a private message. In that moment, I’m in a good space and can give you the attention you deserve. Sometimes, that can change in a few minutes, shifting my focus on the conversation.


We finally make plans to hang out. It’s on the calendar. I am stoked! The day comes and I wake up excited but then, work overwhelms me. My focus shifts, making me struggle to get things done in time. I have to cancel because I am drained. I stay up until 2 am finishing up the work I couldn’t do at 2 pm because my anxiety derailed my productivity.


I care. I do care. But you see, I’m not myself. I make promises, and my intentions are pure. I truly want to catch up, to see you, to write you long emails. I’ve got stationary and I want to write letters like we used to.


You’re a new friend, and I want to spend time with you but then the guilt fills in. I should be spending this time with friends I’ve neglected who’ve been patient.


I try.

I try.

I walk around in a fog most of the time, and it’s been even more difficult since the election. I can’t focus on anything but the news and work. So I throw myself into work. I take on too much and fill my hours until I am too tired to think and can have some peace.

I’m nervous. I’m overwhelmed. I’m anxious. I’m worried that any conversation we have where I’m not giving you my all isn’t enough. I’m not enough. I’m paralyzed. Emails are abandoned after I type in your address and the hello.

Text messages stare at me, unanswered. Too much time passes. It feels disingenuous, even though I genuinely miss you and want to talk to you.

You’re on the other side of the country. You’re on the other side of the world. You’re down the street.

You’re in my heart but my heart is under attack. My brain is trying to find the balance. Thoughts try to escape but scatter into dust as the fog gets heavier.

I’m sorry I can’t do better right now.

I will try.

I hope you’ll still be there when I do.


A Seaside Getaway

What happens when two writers decided to have a weekend getaway and their first real bonding experience as friends?

Not as much writing as you would think.

When Jessica and I planned this little getaway, life was kind of kicking both of our butts. We’ve been working a ton, she’s got a toddler, and me – well, I’m a hot mess. We promised that this would be a relaxing weekend full of laughter, bonding, drinking, and sleep. Lots of sleep.

What I didn’t expect is just how much we’d bond, and how she would just bring out the ridiculously silly side of me. As one of the first friends I made in Seattle (thanks Twitter), and as a fellow writer, Jess holds a special place in my heart. I was a little worried because we’d never spent 1:1 time that lasted more than our Restaurant Week dinners.

“What if she hates me? What if I’m annoying? OMG WHAT IF WE RUN OUT OF THINGS TO TALK ABOUT? WHAT IF I TALK TOO MUCH? OH MY GOD” Read more A Seaside Getaway

The Thing About Endings

I have so much to write and I wish I could say that I’ve started this blog a bunch of times. The truth is that I wrote most of this in my head when I was driving cross-country and then let it go. When I got to Seattle, I wanted to just sit down and write but I was honestly too exhausted.

But I do need to write, because I am crossing into a new chapter in my life. As I’ve always done, I have to remember how I feel, how I process things, and share this with you because for the last (almost) decade, that’s what I’ve done.

My blog is an extension of me.


During my drive, I stopped in Chicago to see Jenn. As I was leaving the city, I happened to drive by the beach. All of a sudden, I found myself overwhelmed with tears coming down my face. You see, I haven’t talked too much about the end of my relationship because I was trying to focus on work and making it somewhat of an easy transition for A, and just other people’s feelings in general. I never fully mourned the end of my relationship and honestly, people made me feel like I had no right to be upset because I was the one who broke it off.

The thing is, my heart broke too. It was the hardest decision I’ve ever made, and while I don’t regret it, I do regret the way I handled certain things. It was my first break-up. First serious relationship. First significant heartbreak with double the pain because I was also hurting a person I still care about very much.

So as I drove by the beach where he and I shared an awesome weekend last summer, my heart broke again. While we had our problems (and obviously, the relationship ended for a reason), the last three years were full of great memories. So I had to stop and acknowledge the end.

I had to mourn the end of my relationship. I called A and apologized for calling him while I was crying but there was no one else I could talk to in that moment. As awful as it felt for me, something he said stuck with me. He thought that I didn’t care – that the last three years didn’t mean anything to me because I didn’t seem sad when things ended. I was sad but I couldn’t let myself be sad.

So I cried.

I took a deep breath and continued on my journey.

The Drive

Let me tell you something about driving cross-country for the first time by yourself – you don’t really want to talk on the phone. At least, I didn’t. I had planned on calling a few of my friends, but I was honestly enjoying my drive too much. The last few years, I’ve really isolated myself and you would think that I had enough alone time, but this was different. I’ve always enjoyed driving. It’s always been my time.

Strange as it was, though I was leaving my comfort zone behind (oh hey, we’ll talk about that scary thing later), I was at peace in my car with the open road ahead of me. I wasn’t even really excited, per se.

I just was.

I didn’t feel any different, except in control. It didn’t really hit me that I was taking this big journey and driving away from my comfort zone until somewhere in Montana. Or it could’ve been North Dakota, I’m not 100% sure. I had this overwhelming feeling of failure.

What the hell was I doing, moving to a brand new coast, let alone a new city?

What if I am a complete failure at being independent? What if I can’t get an apartment? What if my friends end up hating me after a week?



*deep breaths*


It’s OK. I can do this. I WILL BE OK.

Because I tried. Because I’m doing it and if I didn’t, I would regret it for the rest of my life.

So I kept driving with McLovin by my side.

(To be continued)


When I’m talking to my best friend online and she says “Fine” as a reply to something, it immediately makes me wonder if she’s upset.

For the longest time, the word ‘Fine’ as a reply had been associated with “I’m annoyed at/with you and don’t really feel like dealing with you.” (Or something similar). It was tied to a negative feeling.

I know that’s not the case with my best friend (She will tell me when she’s annoyed with me) but that gut wrenching feeling still jumps at me at times. Like yesterday. My heart just sank because I honestly thought she was upset and wasn’t telling me.

I hate that feeling.

We know words are powerful but the way an association can linger for years is amazing.

The way one single word can take us 5 years back, just like a smell can take us back in time to a moment.

Complete with all of the feelings, whether they’re good or bad.

“Fine” is only one of the words that I’ve proactively worked on disassociating with a time in my life. It’s not always easy because if your guard is down, your psyche will jump up and attack you at the most unfortunate moments.

It’s amazing what a single word can do.

Re-defining ‘Home’

Source: Pink Sherbet Photography on Flickr

Over the last few months, the fact that I don’t have a ‘childhood home’ to go back to has been hitting me hard.

When Andrew & I began dating, and I went to his parents’ house for the first time, I stepped into the time-warp that was his bedroom.  He had grown up in that house, and could tell me stories from when he was little.  Maybe it’s because I live 3000 miles away from the apartment where I grew up but it made me even more homesick.

Over the last 2 years, I’ve been doing my best to make D.C. feel more like home than it has.

Funny thing about living in an area for 15 years is that there are days the memories around every corner begin to overwhelm you and make you want to run. The next thing you know, you’re walking past a building that used to make your heart stop without even acknowledging it. You feel a familiar twinge subconsciously but not enough to make you stop and re-live any memories.

Because you’re only passing it on your way to your new apartment where your fiance is waiting for you.

I’ve lived in the area long enough to celebrate my birthday at the same restaurant 4 years in a row because I was a lunch regular; long enough to memorize the street cleaning schedule and know when it changed; long enough to spend 6 years commuting from VA every day; long enough to pinpoint my comfort zones; long enough to know where to go for avoiding familiar faces; long enough to call it home.

There are memories that hit me every time I stepped foot outside my door.

Memories that would catch me off-guard if I wasn’t paying attention.

Memories that drowned me in tears.

Memories that made me avoid certain parts of town.

These days?

Those memories have been pushed to the past where they belong, by the new memories I’ve made by moving forward.

I learned that the best way to move on isn’t to run away from the memories. They’ll still be there waiting for you when you get back.  The best way to move on is to continue living and making new memories.

Now when I run into familiar faces, they can tell, without even speaking a word, that I’m not that same girl.

They may see me in a familiar place from a dark period in my life but know that I am just passing by.

I may not have a physical home that holds my life between its walls. When I have a child, I won’t be able to take them to the house I grew up in – but I’m learning to be OK with that.

Home is where the heart is, and a piece of my heart will always be in D.C.

*This is my 500th post on this website. Thanks to all of you who have been reading, whether it’s been a day or 2 years. Much love to you all.*

[Reverb10] Appreciate & Friendship

(I am combining these two prompts into one post because finals have me falling behind on Reverb10.  I will obviously do the 5 minute prompt on its own.)

Victoria Klein asks: What’s the one thing you have come to appreciate most in the past year? How do you express gratitude for it?

Down-time. All my life, I’ve always kept going. School, work, family, extracurricular activities, friends – lather, rinse, repeat.

Who has time to relax and actually do something they enjoy versus something they need to do, all the time?  There are not enough hours in the day at times and even after I lost my job this past summer, I felt like I needed to be doing something constantly. Must network. Must apply to jobs. Must attend all events to make connections and just keep going.

I learned this year that taking a break is essential to moving forward.

So I learned to appreciate down-time.  Taking the time to eat breakfast in the morning. Taking the time to workout, read a book, walk around the city, just listen to music…

Very rarely do I get to relax without having a million things hanging over my head.

So I learned to appreciate and began to seek out down-time. Now, before I crash into bed, I take the time to read at least a chapter of a book that is NOT required by school.  It does wonders.

Martha Mihalick asks: How has a friend changed you or your perspective on the world this year? Was this change gradual, or a sudden burst?

My friends that have been around for the best & the worst haven’t changed me this year.  They changed me years ago by humbling me and accepting me with love despite my flaws.  It’s the people who left my life this year for various reasons that changed me.  I was actually talking about this with my Dad and made the observation that some people just cannot be happy for you when you’re happy.  Some people feel that they have the right to be angry about the decisions you make in your life which do not harm them (or yourself).

Then I realized that I no longer feel the need to justify my decisions about my life to anyone. The old me would’ve tried to explain myself to a person who has talked about me behind my back extensively and has decided that the life I’m living is not worthy.

I then took a look around to the friends I have who love me unconditionally while being honest with me if they feel concern with a decision or the way my life is going.

That was the moment I changed my perspective on friendships.

It’s not how long someone has been in your life but why they stand beside you today that matters.