The monster that isn’t in the closet

Tags

choices, coaching, dieting, exercise, expat life, fat, fitness, growing up, love, parents, relationships

so I’ve been pretty afraid to try my best at things, because that has often been linked to rebound eating, hunger, bingeing and overdoing whatever behavior it was that I was trying to curb when my inner self destruction, mean girl, inner critic, what have you, Demon of Low Self-Worth appears on the scene and ruins whatever I was trying to create.

This feels deceptively like a very authentic part of me, like something that is fighting for the real Megan to come through, to be loved for her faults/with her faults in a way. It is deceptively human, and humanizing. I think, I deserve to be loved for not being perfect, I deserve to not be perfect, and I deserve to indulge myself. loving becomes indulging and is more about giving in to impulses, especially when they are ill-considered and unlikely to actualy satisfy true need.

Like sure, have that hamburger. If you give yourself what you want, you will be happy and authentic. If you do something you don’t want to  get a result you claim to want, you are a cold bitch Machiellian, so eat the goddamn sandwich or next time i will get you with a dozen cookies two sandwiches and a bread bowl.

I have long, lonve feared this part of me. Because this part of me is what gave me limits, and comfort.

But i didn’t want to let it go, it felt too much like home. Not that my family isn’t proud of me in their way, but they are people who have built their lives with trying to be happy with what they have and mostly focusing on relationships, friendly and in their marraiges.

so what I am doing is completely authentic , to leave, and not even for a relationship, which also wouldn’t have been tolerated from me since my role in the family these days is badass independent woman adventurer- is she selfish or just fearless?

does she even really love us?

She only sees us once or twice a year but she always finds the money to travel.  When we’re gone, then she’ll regret it but i wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

But i’m a dutiiful daughter and that didn’t happen to me, guess there was some perks of staying at home.

No wonder she can’t find a man if she’s always traveling and never stays in one place. SHe cares too much about her career.  Acually she doesn’t care enough, all she cares about is travel, and what is that but an escape- where is she escaping to, isn’t France enough?

 

She was always the strange one anyway- that’s why she fits in so well with the frogs.

It makes me sad that i think people do sometimes thin this way about me, and even more sad that I can particularly

remember the instances of some of the above coming out of someone I respects male. Ouch, that hurt.

No wonder I don’t want to go back, and I”m not sure if I want to go home for Christmas.

But I do because I love them and they love me, and a lot of this is just my inner critic talking- who they did in fact help create, much as they will say I always had that “drive” and they didn’t expect anything great out of me.

But they did, I think, and this life while fun to tell the neighbors about is not what they expected. Oh well, sucks for tehme.

 

As for me,  know I do well enough in the making people jealous of my life contest.

Because I don’t give a fuck anymore.

My childhood babysitter says I’m not the little girl she used to take to the library- now I’m out traveling the world. I”m ure no one would have seen me doing it, least of all me.

I feel like I’m speaking out of turn, too much about me, too much about what’s importat to me than what category I fit into, and if I’ve checked the boxes, and if there can be some schaden frude about the fact that I, while living a prety authentic life ahat I really enjoy, have not crossed off all the milestones yet

 

ANd I will sometime. That I feel pretty confident abou , because it is a part of what I desire. A part.

Maybe f I was a full time traveller I wouldn’t like it as much.

 

I am happy that i’ve been going on quests of my own now, rathe rthan just oging to see something that didnt know what I wanted.

 

But anyway, back to the demon.

The demon is the tempestuous God outstairs who bangs the broom on their celing to disturb me when I”m having sex, or a moments peace.

That’s just how it is.

But no more.

There is no more reason to be afraid of the demon than there is to be afraid of the monster in the closet.

But you will continue to be afraid of the monster in the closet unless you can see that it’s not real.

Like the creatures in M N Shaymalan’s the Village.

When you are loved by people, and truly taken care of, it helps light back up the star within you. And I’m not talking about validation, I’m talking about love, the kind of love that can be tough and adjust you back on your right path. The love of a coach or teacher, not a sycophant, not a positive affirmations specialist, not that person taht doesn’t respect or care for you enough to tell the truth. More than likely this person will witness both good and bad things about you, and will reassure you you that you are only human and it’s ok, and you are still worthy of effort and love.

And little by little, your spark will be reignited, and you will start to be shiny.

And only by your own lifht, which it might take months and years to grow, will you see that there never has been anything in the closet–

That when you came out of the closet of your own making, of your limitations others false beliefs and iill intetions imposed on you, the revenge of the weak amongst the strong, the resentment that causes you to write a song like Jenny from the Block because your success threatens everyone around you, especially if they have helped you on your path. It stings, and if they are not entirely happy with the life they lived and they lacked the courage to live the one they wanted, which more or less might resemble yours.

And love is making love in the light of a dying fire, of being together in a rough corrugated metal shack, two souls in the middle of no where, just feelign each other.

And love is when you have to trat yourself better than you have ever treated yourself, because someone believes in you and has invested in you.

And you know, because of them, that you really deserve it. And you don’t do it for them, you really truly do it for you. And that’s a reason.

You stop wanting to change the world adn start wanting to live your life. You stop grasping for control and want freedom more than power.

And that my friends’ is how to tame the green eyed monsters, inside and out, wherever they may be.

 

Pssst turn on the light.

PS and maybe it’s all called into being by dualism, and the beleif there has to be an eternal battle of dark and night, live and sun. And es, all is well.

 

Best,

MJ

 

Tags

buddhism, imperfection, life, love

I don’t think love will be neat and clean-edged, a bingo game,

crying out to Wheel of Fortune that you’ve solved the puzzle,

no neat Monopoly pass go and collect 200.

 

I think it will be sweet, not quite so cruel as nature-

But a force too sttrong to understand, nonetheless.

 

I don’t think he will always make me happy

but he will mostly try.

I don’t think I will always be his dream come true,

but I will support him.

 

I don’t think we will have everythign in common

But he’ll be my best friend anyway.

 

Maybe I won’t tell him all my secrets-

but he’ll guess them, and forget them,

And love me in all my splendour, not blindly.

 

Maybe i won’t know rom teh first time I hold his hand

That he’s meant to me mine,

or that we will always be happy.

 

But I think I will always want him laying next to me,

And that migh tbe all I need to know.

Neither flowers nor birdsong

Tags

buddhism, dating, love, philosophy, poetry, spirituality

Maybe love is not a walk in the park

On a summer’s warm bright sunny day.

 

Maybe it is a hurricane

That makes dry leaves swirl in its path

 

Maybe it is the Fall

That makes the fruit ripen on the vine

 

Maybe it is a mountain lake

Deep and cold

 

Or a brushfire

Destroying everything in its path.

 

Perhaps it is as cruel, and real

As Life

 

As sweet, as ephemeral–

 

A force of nature.

Love without clinging Part III- Bliss

Tags

bliss, buddhism, children, clinging, dating, deciding to be a mom, digital nomad, happiness, letting go, life, love, motherhood, philosophy, travel, twenties, vows, wanderer

I take to the internet, asking a group of digital nomads the eternal question-

Should I stay or should I go now?

Stay, and build, and get citizenship maybe. Go, on a new adventure, hoping that somewhere else is better, and maybe a bit better paying.

The answer was overwhelming “STAY”

A kind soul took the time to message me directly- “It’s not about France, it’s about you. What do you really want to do? Write that memoir. In the time it takes to get citizenship you can have sold the book and be planning book tours.”

And i can get to be a hotshot in content marketing and social media and enhance my professional reputation and pay off date and get that passport that will let me come back to France, always. Because I still love it and always will- even if at some point, I let go.

I talked to my good friend, who has also read the Alchemist a thousand times.

“Right now you’re the shiney shop guy who wants to go to Mecca, because you are comfortable and it might be good or bad”

So what is my Mecca- everywhere and nowhere, the road.

Space without center or limit.

Freedom.

Living out of a suitcase.

Being able to experience the world in all its diversity and beauty, and owning next to nothing.

At least for a time. To go, and support myself as I go, to have roots in the earth itself-

after having spent my youth in France incha allah.

 

As for the man and the  baby? If they come to me, when I am my full, lovely, enchantress, free spirit, arms wide open, travelling fool aspiring surfer girl and mountain mama self, why not?

If someone can take me with my philosophy, with my Buddhism, with my extraversion, with my sensuality and all my fire, YES.

But I am done trying to fit into a box- whether it be for a man or money or motherhood.

I am not an earth creature. I come from the fire, I fly in the sky. The earth is my friend, not my property. I flow like the ocean, in big waves, and sometimes in alpine lakes tucked high in the clouds.

I write and I speak and I tell my tales.

So I realized I’ve been to forty countries, and I hadn’t even realized it at the time.

“Your blog is about seeking and finding,” said my wise friend, my guardian angel.

I would rather have forty countries than forty blocks of gold. I want to be rich, yes, rich in experience and luxury and full of abundance and true prosperity.

YES money, but so much else.

So maybe I don’t want a cat and or a baby in such desperation as I thought before, even if I think babies are cute.

And as for a lover, I’m ready, but I’m not waiting for anyone.

I’m not a nun or a monk or anything like that, but I am vowed to the sky quand meme.

I am radiance, come what may, and that’s more important than trying to snare a man or rushing to be on time for a baby.

If they are mine, they will come.

And maybe I won’t be in the mood to roam forever.

Nothing is forever, all compounded things are impermanent.

And I am a Buddhist, whether I have taken refuge in the Buddha or not.

I have taken refuge in the sweet sad impermanence of the beauty, ugly, and ever changing world. I take refuge in the path, that never leads exactly where we think. I have taken refuge in joy and wonder and most of all, surprise.

I have taken refuge not in a country, but in liberte, egalite, fraternite

Joyeux fete de la Bastille

May we storm the prisons of our minds and gain victory every day.

 

Namaste

MJ

 

 

Love without clinging Part I- Meeting a stable guy who wants to settle down

Tags

dating, expat, free spirit, love, marriage, men, Paris, real estate, twenty something, wandering woman

I made plans with friends from work to go to the Fete de la Musique in Paris on 21 June, a special day for me since it’s also the birthday of a family member.

I hopped in the subway with one of the work friends, who had invited someone to come out with us that I hadn’t met. “Do you like him?” I asked my friend, who had recently gone through a breakup.

“No, not at all, he’s just a friend.”

We started drinking beer on a terrace during the very hot day, and then the friend showed up. He looked to be in his early thirties, and cute, but when he started smoking that killed a bit of the attraction, being that he was North American on top of it, so it’s not quite the same as a European smoking.

We talked a lot about the French real estate market, and how now was the time to buy. “I’ll help you figure it so you can buy something,” he told me. “It’s ok if you spend half your income and stop going out as much, it is a great investment. And you’ll feel differently about traveling so much, home ownership really changes you.”

I made a joke about wanting a rich husband instead, and he said something like, “Well I’m not rich yet but my parents are.” He had also made a pretty penny from selling his house before moving to France.

We talked about France, and when we switched to wine I refused to pour for myself, because French custom is for women to be served. He started serving me.

Next thing I knew, we had gone to a much crazier area where people were packed in dancing like sardines in the gay district. “These guys must be gay if they are not hitting on you,” he said to me, “and I would be really jealous if they did.”

Mere hours later, we were kissing on the Place du Trocadero as the sun came up, and he was telling me how he is ready to have a family (read baby)  in the next two years, and how he has had his eye on me in the corridor at work (I never noticed him, but then I kind of have my head in the clouds a bit, wouldn’t you believe it) for months and has been waiting for the opportunity to talk to me. I am his dreamgirl, and he can’t believe his luck. He wants to see me for lunch, take me out for dinner, and puts me in an Uber to go home.

But he is worried that our mutual friend is jealous and doesn’t want to hurt her feelings. “We’ll have to find her someone before coming out,” he says, and he wants to take it slowly, and not do anything physical, because he is really serious and wants to get to know me. Although he does mention- “My apartment is just there, maybe you’ll come live with me iin a few months.”

He texts me around noon “Wow that was amazing”

Radio silence over the weekend- he is meant to be elsewhere in France looking at real estate but in the end he doesn’t go. I get up my courage and ask him how’s he’s doing, an dhe explains he just rested up after the long night on Wednesday/Thursday (he’s not much older than 30 by the way).

We meet up during the week, before he has to go to a house showing and before I’m meant to go to the gym. He explains he wants to take it slow and start as friedns, that he is wary of the fact that we work in the same company in the same building, and and that he just got out of a relationship three months ago with someone he met at work and it was hell once the coworkers found out. The conversation started out cold and then towards the end he could barely stop himself from kissing me despite his imposed just friends rule. He told me about all the times in the past few days he saw me around but restrained himself from saying hi because he wanted to have this talk first, and he told me how pretty my dress was the day before.

I was too late to make my gym class, and messaged him, but he was already gone to look at the house.

Then I invited him to a picnic with my friends later in the week, at the last moment so he wouldn’t feel pressured- he had plans with friends but would go if things didnt work out- as it turns out it was rained out anyway, and then wished him a good weekend to no response.

About a week goes by and no contact is initiated. Is this what he means by taking it slow?

I saw him around the office complex, made a point of saying hello to him when I pass by his desk, and outside the building. I pass him in the convenience store and he waves and smiles but doesn’t take a few minutes to talk.

I’ve had enough, and feel like something is not right. I wonder if my friend, who has actually acted quite jealous and claims we both disrespected her by wanting to date because it will put her in the middle, and the fact that it was spontaneous and he didn’t ask me for a date at another time, and claiming it’s that she feels uncomfortabel because of work though she herself has many of her close friends coming from work and has dated guys from work and parties with her team at festivals, it seems a little disingenous. Needless to say, I am disappointed my friend can’t be happy for my seeming good fortune.

So I message him that I am no longer interested in anything friendly or romantic besides basic politeness, he agrees that he feels the same and thanks me for clearing up. He starts asking me how work is going, I explain (in tears) that I don’t want to talk to him really and he has really disappointed me and hurt my feelings by talking such a big game and not following through, and that I deserve more than to be ghosted essentially. He agrees, apologizes, tells me there’s something I don’t know that he dared not say because it would only disappoint me more, asks if I want to cut ties (I already have,  I defriended him on Facebook) but that there’s no need for awkwardness in person. He apologizes, and the conversation just seems to go on and on. I check back a few days later, thinking maybe at the least he could let me know if something opens up in his department, as crazy as that sounds, and I can no longer message him and conclude he must have blocked me.

As for my jealous friend, I am sincerely disappointed because I thought of the person who would come pick me up in the middle of the night if I ever needed it. And I realize that, consciously or subconsciously, she has done just the same as my family in exerting some pressur eto follow her path, of being single and childless and with a big apartment and fancy job, and maybe she’s not so happy with it, and maybe she doesn’t want to end up single alone, or doesn’t want me to find my person first. She is a bit older than me and I”m sure it wouldn’t be the first time a girlfirned’s priorities changed once she found a man. And she skinny shames me for ordering a salad when she wants to get a dessert and threatens to change her order, so I get a hot dog instead.

Conclusion- time to move on….

And if you coldn’t tell in the beginning what was I even thinking of doing with this guy? He’s not like me, and he’s a bit boring and odd. But I thought,a fter 8 months of celibacy and meeting him on the summer solstice, that my ship had finally come in.

Needless to say in my frustration, the celibacy streak was broken since we were just friends and he wasn’t doing anything to make me fall in love with him…

For my handsome stranger/ beau etranger

Tags

cross cultural romance, lost, love, twenties

I never imagined a future with you–

not even breakfast.

I thought I loved someone else, far away,

a daydream I thought was real.

 

 

I pushed you away as I drew you to me,

Telling myself it was just lust and your kindness.

I never imagined four years later it would be you, that

I’d shed

pure, clear tears

of sorrow.

 

I always thought love was knowing

And beautiful dreams, and a perfect match.

 

I never thought you would conquer me,

I never imagined our future.

 

I remember when we parted

The same pure tears

A crystal stream,

A clean wound

No disappointment, only sadness.

 

Maybe it was love because it was only for a moment

No expectations.

But I pushed you away as I clung to you in passion,

Afraid to love you too deeply,

to feel.

 

When finally we met again, I really loved you-

seeing you for the first time.

I would have followed you anywhere

I knew you were worthy.

 

I thought perhaps, your heart doesn’t really belong to her.

Your eyes are still the same when you look at me.

 

And maybe they will always have that same luster,

but you’re not mine.

 

The love I never looked for,

The one I couldn’t get back.

A clear, pure light.

 

 

I miss you, friend.

 

 

 

 

 

I know I need to change my life

Tags

abundance, adventure, career, contribution, job, love, passion, profession, travel, twenty something

“It’s a terrible thing, I think, in life to wait until you’re ready. I have this feeling now that actually no one is ever ready to do anything. There is almost no such thing as ready. There is only now. And you may as well do it now. Generally speaking, now is as good a time as any.”- Hugh Laurie

“For what it’s worth… it’s never too late, or in my case too early, to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit. Start whenever you want. You can change or stay the same. There are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you’ve never felt before. I hope you meet people who have a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of, and if you’re not, I hope you have the courage to start over again.”

― F. Scott Fitzgerald

“Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us, or we find it not.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

 

So I want to do something amazing in addition to my regular job, something that comes from the heart, and I want to improve my regular job, and probably change within a certain period of time. I want to work from the heart. I want to do something I am proud of on my deathbed. I don’t want traveling to be the only thing that keeps me going, and I want to have wow moments in my professional life. I don’t want to struggle financially, and I want to have everything I want and need. I do believe I am incredibly blessed and things are quite abundant, but I could use a big more abundance ot become debt free and have more money to travel and save and do interesting things with like invest in projects that are important to me. I want that money to come to me and I want to keep it, or invest it wisely.

I’m not really sure exactly what I want to do, but that’s an exciting thing. I am coming from a place of openness. I am likely to make some discoveries along the way taht could change everything. I want my life to be full of surprises and adventure and yes, abundance.

There is more to me than I give the world now in my professional life, and I want to make a bigger contribution, and receive more abundance starting now to help me make that contribution and pass it on to others.

My life is really good, but I want to really make it rock and give it my all to live consciously happily abudantly andjoyfully.

I want a man who loves my fire

Tags

fierce, fire, independent, love, women

You cannot use someone else’s fire; you can only use your own. And in order to do that, you must first be willing to believe you have it. Audre Lorde

Once, rising from bed, the proud goddess that I am, my lover caught my eye, and he saw my light. I could see it reflected from him. I felt myself, in all my strength and independence and power, and I could see that it attracted him. But he wasn’t quite strong enough for it, and it was not his to catch.

In fact, he appreciated my strength but it also repelled him. He wanted a woman who gave chase, who didn’t love him too much, who didn’t have any more emotional courage than he did. Once he told me, he would do another to be with the woman he loves but he wouldn’t know what to do once he had her.

That woman is not me.

A few weeks ago, seeing an ex-boyfriend from years ago, I realized what it means to have someone look at you as if you were magic. I saw him again, and I was my shining, saucy self. Today I’ve just dedicated an essay to him, and sent it to him. Yes, I am chasing him, a bit. But if he isn’t repulsed by it, if he’s been waiting to know for sure what I want (he does have a girlfriend), maybe he will make that change and cherish me instead.

I deserve a man who worships my fire but doesn’t completely bow down to me. I deserve an equal who will only fan my flames, not snuff them, not tell me I am crazy or out of control or that he doesn’t like how I dance or how many lovers I’ve had.

I deserve a man who is not scared of me, who is not going to try to hack off pieces of me to get me to fit into his mould, who wouldn’t change a thing, who will still love me when I’m no longer young, and in the brief moments my spark falters.

I want a love that will set my world ablaze, and me with it.

I’m happy when I think about you

Tags

love

I hope you feel the same.

 

The Valentine I didn’t wish out loud

Tags

cross cultural relationship, ex, ex boyfriend, love, Paris, romance, twenty something, valentine's day, wisdom

Johnny Cash on Paradise:

This morning, with her, having coffee.

 

Hello Sweetheart,

Today I missed you more than usual. We talked on gchat though, but you aren’t mine so I didn’t send you any kisses.

To be honest, when we were together, I didn’t think you were that special. I mean, I didn’t think you could ever be the one, and I thought I might like you just because you were there, and it had been a long time since I’d had someone nice in my life. We didn’t stay up till all hours talking, you were (and are) really cute and the sex was usually pretty great so I wasn’t sure it was a real soul connection, just two people enjoying each other.

The truth is, I did know someone who felt like 7th heaven and the most intimacy I’d ever known for a brief moment, but he was never really mine the way you were. The one night I had with him, I thought his snores were cute and our cuddling bodies fit perfectly. The nights I spent you with, we knew our days together might be limited but they were also just everyday days.

My favorite moment with you has nothing to do with the magic of our meeting, or the best sex of my life, or even when you met my family and they loved you and you loved them and I was jealous of how much you played with my dog instead of spending every second with me.

My favorite memory is the first time I came to your house, and you made me dinner in return for the few times I had made you dinner, at my request, so I could try a typical dish from your country. It was tasty enough but my cooking is better.

We were done eating and having sex and were just sitting on your couch together, in your tiny house you lived all alone that was the same size as the house I grew up in. You put my legs on your lap and I leaned on you and shut my eyes while you watched boxing. I knew I was happy in that moment, but I didn’t realize how special the moment was until after.

And that even though you weren’t the perfect scantron boyfriend, you were really the best I ever had and the one I thought was the One would never be more than a dream, and probably out of kindness completely walked out of my life when I wouldn’t let the dream go. I fought for the dream but I didn’t fight for the imperfect reality of you.

You are not a perfect person to be sure but maybe I did drive you away with my distrust of you ever really liking me. I don’t think I ever gave you a chance to really love me, when I assumed there could never be nothing serious since you didn’t check the boxes and we didn’t come from the same background.

It was really difficult to know we’d have to say goodbye in two months from the moment we met, and I’m not mad we didn’t try to do long distance but like everything, I felt it as a rejection and that I wasn’t good enough.

I missed you so much, and I was so mad every time I doubted you felt the same way.

To think for three years we could have seen each other and neither thought the other was willing.

I can guess why you didn’t want to see me, with the last time we saw each other beign with my prejudiced friend warning me against you and telling me I could do so much better, and I assumed you didn’t really want me anyway.

Well now, here we are.

Maybe we will get another chance someday, maybe we won’t.

But please know, even if I didn’t know it at the time, I really loved you that moment on the sofa. And that time we had breakfast together, awkward, knowing it would be our first and last time to wake up together in your house. You were so beautiful and carefree and it was so sad and you were a little more serious than your usual happy go lucky self I was just beginning to know. And I loved you while you waited for the metro with me, holding my hands in the cold, kissing me with your slightly awkward wolfish kisses that made me feel like a lamb, respectfully though, just for me and not to show the whole world we were together. I didn’t feel the power of your kisses the way I felt the night of kissing with the one who was supposed to be the One, but maybe that was because I was young and not very wise. I didn’t know if you were so precious because I was lonely and it was an experience for the memoirs or because I really liked you, when we had really fallen in love at first sight and I decided to trust you before knowing you then got scared.

It was so much easier to put you in a box, to say you didn’t really want me and I wouldn’t want you for a longer term, and the One was going to work his way back to me and my life would go on as I had planned it. I thought you were a souvenir, and were too precious and rare and strange to be my everyday cup of happiness.

I’m sure if I want paradise, I will have to throw away the original box that has the cushion for the memory and ensures it can safely be displayed but just for the season.

I’m so happy you fell off the shelf and into my life once more, and so happy these precious moments weren’t so fragile, after all this time.