All posts tagged: love

Goodbye, Spinster

Hello my loves, Thank you for joining us for the final blog post of Queer Spinster. I’ve spent nearly 5 years documenting my life on this blog, as well as sharing powerful and hilarious essays by guest writers–but most importantly, this was a space for us to connect, to discuss our lives and the lessons we’ve learned through heartbreak, falling in love and finding ourselves. In dedicating time to heal and examine my life, I hope that I have brought you comfort in some way. I’ll always be here, open and available to chat. Seriously. Like call me, beep me if you wanna reach me. I love listening. I am so deeply honored to have had this platform and for us to grow as human beings together. I love you all. You have no idea. I wanted to take this last opportunity to share 9 lessons I’ve learned throughout this blog journey that I may have not already yet shared:  1. Anything we want from someone else is something we can provide for ourselves (but …

Why I’m Ending ‘Queer Spinster’

As some of you may already know, the final Queer Spinster blog post will be shared on July 3, 2017. And some of you may be wondering why. I began this blog (as Diary of a Gay Spinster) in late 2012 at 20 years old with a quest to relieve myself of feeling embarrassed by my own spinsterdom. In my first post, I began a simple call made of self-deprecation, to “claim the darkest parts of myself and find the humor in my own tragedy.” In an official introduction post, I wrote: “The purpose of this blog is to connect with at least one person, a lost soul who has a free ticket to the Hot Mess Express. Well if you are that person, I’m here for you. I know what it’s like to be a single, career driven college student without prospects. I’m probably just dramatic, but the drama of it all (not stupid high school drama, I mean the glamorization of your own failures and successes) is what fuels my desire to make …

RUNAWAY GIRL ♡ PART ONE

I KNOW NOW THAT THE DARKNESS I HAD SEEN WAS MY OWN SHADOW. * * * Cut it off, run now. Don’t look back. You must go missing for him to learn how to miss you. I pack my proverbial suitcase and head for the door. I look back and know that what is left will not be the same if I returned. But returning is not an option, at least not now. I must learn to keep my feet moving past the door, out to the street, into a cab and set dynamite across the bridge as I cross over the canyon. Never to return. Without him, I may never know if this house we painted pink would have ever been a home. With him, the walls breath in staggered paces, huffing and puffing as if their lungs had been filled for centuries with the toxic fumes of my own self-loathing—gasping to make out the word: “Run.” * * * But I do stop running. I return. From winter in Phoenix to a 79-degree night …

The Difference Between Fear and Trusting Your Gut

Fear is all consuming—it hits you like a ball of fire, it’s instant like foil sparking in a microwave. It’s blinding—chilling—leaves you avoiding all sense of who you are. Your gut allows time for you to analyze the situation. It’s a feeling that your foundation is at threat whereas fear is an avoidance of your foundation. Your gut collaborates with your brain. It allows it time to catch up. It’s patient at first but until you take notice it will continue to throb slowly, sending signals through your body to help wake up your mind. If fear is the devil, then God is your gut. Your gut says, “I love you, but you need to get out.” Fear has you out the door before you can even process what just happened. Fear is gunfire; your gut is a cease-fire. Your gut is knowingness. It doesn’t need a gunshot in the air to get your attention. It needs you to listen. It’s waiting for you to join it in silence. It’s calling you to stop what …

5 Things I Learned from Therapy

Editor’s Note: I was deeply moved by my dear friend Austin’s video on therapy and how it’s helped him deal with anxiety and depression. Beautiful to see he’s sharing his story, honored to be sharing it with you.  “I don’t think I need therapy. I view it, kind of, as a weakness.” The most common, and annoying, thing people say about going to a therapist is the above statement. Obviously in different ways, but you catch my drift. I think people are fearful because being explicitly honest with someone can somewhat seem taxing on a person, but I’m here to assure you that it’s not. In my recent sessions, I have left feeling empowered, joyful, and ready to take on this insane world. I never thought that I would be able to wake up and root for myself again. I thought my life was going to end up as that iconic scene where Alice is falling down that black hole of confusion forever. What is my point? What does this all mean? Well, I’m not almighty …

April Book Club Pick: Love Warrior by Glennon Doyle Melton

Welcome back, #QSBookClub friends! For this month’s book club pick, I wanted to share with you an incredible memoir that may seem like just a book about redeeming a marriage, but really, it is a book about self-trust, facing pain head on, and opening your eyes to the light within you to heal. This author has truly become a guiding light in my life and she has no idea. By sharing her journey, the authenticity of her work and genuine intentions have led me to my own truth and have brought me closer to my authentic self. It is because of this book that I have begun to manifest the desires of my heart, and find peace through struggle. April 2017 #QSBookClub Pick Our April Book Club read is LOVE WARRIOR: A MEMOIR by Glennon Doyle Melton! Where to Buy the Book Love Warrior is available wherever books are sold and the hardcover is currently on sale at Amazon for only $11! Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Target <<SIGN UP HERE>> Live Book Discussion On Tuesday, April 25 at …

Running Toward the Light (Part One)

The continuation of When Sex Becomes Validation.  Wild thing…let me stand in your light, show me what it’s like to be free. I roll my neck and close my eyes. Liberation sounds like you. * * * The concert was lovely. Magical, even. I had never listened to that band before but I knew any band that David loved, I would love too. It had been a long day of adventure in San Francisco. Day two crossed off the list. Night two was next. David knew I wanted to be bougie and take an Uber back to our temporary home, but he knew how to save a coin. We arrived at the bus stop. “Think about all the money you’ll save,” he says. I’m down to take the bus. I’m down to take it with him. And while I had just gotten promoted to Senior Account Executive with a salary increase and Christmas bonus, I chose to save that coin, only because it’s easier to do with David. The night before was exhilarating, but I played this game before. …

The First Cold Night

There is an airy silence tonight, the kind of silence that comes as snow falls lightly on a morning commute. I lie awake wondering if the morning will bring heart ache and regret or happiness and relief. This was the moment I was dreading, the moment that could cause so much pain but set me free so I could move on with my life. Newly 19-years-old, I had felt stuck ever since that night he took me out for coffee. I’ll never forget the text he sent me during Psychology class senior year: “Would you like to go on a date with me tonight? Love, Parker.” Oh, and he added a smiley face and a heart to the end of that text, as if it wasn’t bad enough already (so 2010 of him). The alarm clock in my head woke me up instantly but I decided to hit snooze and fall back asleep. In the clouds, of course. Robert is never the one to be realistic. So there I was, on a Thursday night, sipping a white chocolate non-fat …

When Sex Becomes Validation

He finished inside me. Got up, pulled off the condom and took it with him to the bathroom. I lied there naked, alone in the dark. I heard the shower turn on. As he washed himself off I pulled my clothes back on. I tried to find my underwear but it took me a second to locate them in the darkness. I pulled the curtains open just a bit to let the moonlight pour in. I found them, next to my side of the bed. He came but I hadn’t yet. He didn’t help me out there. But it’s OK. He’s the best I ever had. I don’t know any better. When he comes back to bed, he no longer wants to hold me. He turns away. I lie back down and find myself staring through the crack I made in the blinds, drawn to the moon glow illuminating San Francisco. He’s quiet. And within a few minutes, I know he’s asleep. My heart is full but my mind is clear. He’ll be the worst …

Your Purpose Does Not Inform You of Your Destination

This is Lesson #3 of the Year 25 series. When I continued to ask the question, “When is it going to happen for me?” I grew increasingly restless. Fall to the floor praying to God-out for a run-two cups of coffee-and back on the floor again-restless. “When is it going to happen for me?” Where am I going? What is my purpose? Do I even have a purpose? All of the begging and pleading for direction had me acting hella extra. One night, I was overcome with these doubts. I thought that perhaps I should quit writing. I thought that maybe I’m not meant to have a blog and that I should move on to something else, maybe just focusing on being a good career girl. I could do that. I could be good at that. I told myself, “Nothing has ever happened with your blog. No one really reads it, just let it go.” I thought if I just worried about my day job, I wouldn’t have this problem. But something inside me said, “NAH.” …