Where The Love Resides

It is written in the cards for you.

How can someone as gentle, kind, and beautiful as you not live a life that reflects that? Have you ever wondered that?

Pray for a life that reflects your heart.

Not your fears.

Not your wounds.

Not your trauma.

Your heart.

By the way, San Francisco is cute!!

I asked myself, “Do my spirit team think I’m ungrateful?”

I live in Hawaiʻi. I have financial stability now. I’m flourishing. I have friends. People love me. Yet I still experience pain. I still find myself going back to the past.

I hope they don’t think I’m ungrateful for the life I have, because I’m not. I wouldn’t trade the life I have today for all the “what ifs.” I just… feel everything, you know?

I think I’m finally processing a version of myself and the life that girl dreamed of. I wanted it all. Hawaiʻi, my first love, my mother, and her.

But I can’t have it all.

I had to choose myself. But just because you choose yourself doesn’t mean you automatically heal yourself. It doesn’t mean you’ve processed the version of yourself who desperately wanted to be chosen.

This entire time, I thought I was mourning a first love, when I was actually mourning myself.

I grieve past lovers, but I never truly grieved myself. There is a part of me that is still that young, 20-something-year-old girl, the girl who loved freely and innocently, the girl who had plans with someone. I’m starting to look like her again, just a much more mature version of her, a version that is wiser and more guarded.

I guess I was bitter because how could someone who abused me get a happy ending? How does he get married and have a child when, at one point, that was something I wanted too? The difference is, I don’t want that anymore. I’m grieving the version of myself who once believed that was the life I was going to have.

I wouldn’t trade my current life, though. Trust me. I love where I am and where I’m heading. But that young girl from my early 20s, the girl who went to college, the girl who had dreams and plans, is still hurting. I never truly processed her. I processed the men, my mom, NYC, and everything else, but I never processed her.

Right now, I’m in pain because I’m finally healing her. I thought I already did, but I didn’t. So here we go. :’)

May I finally release this. Thank you for reading. 🫂🫂💚

I love her. I love me. And I love you.

Thank God I left. Thank God I go where the love resides, and thank God I’ve put in the work and continue to go to therapy. I’m not a shitty person at all. Something I struggled with growing up was wondering, “Why am I always being bullied?” But I’ve learned why. Even before social media, I always stood out.

I’m super grateful for everyone I genuinely love, and I’m grateful for the people who see me and choose to be kind to me online. Thank you!! My inner child appreciates it more than you know :))

The old me would’ve deleted everything and never posted again, but nah. We’re not doing that!! Heheh.

Much love!

That’s why I don’t do social media( I’ve never did). I just post and update you all on my journey if you want to read. But for my mental health, constantly being exposed like that isn’t worth it. I’m still shocked I have an audience.

I still make money on here too. I won’t tell y’all how much, but I’m chilling. I’m literally just a simple-ass girl. I’ve also learned to gatekeep the things I truly love. I’m so loved in real life and genuinely content, so it’s okay!!

I experienced being wine drunk and OMMGGG. 😭😂 Why do I suddenly feel sooo sexy?! And why do I wanna fck somebody when I’m wine drunk?! UGHHHHHHHHH. 😩🤣

But most importantly… I genuinely feel sexy. Like… I like this version of Melanie. 🥹✨

I was so freaked out when I was in a relationship, so honestly, this makes a lot of sense.

I’m half Guyanese, and I’ve wanted to learn about that side of myself for so long. An older Guyanese woman is going to host me, and I honestly can’t wait. I was supposed to go last year when I was in Colombia, but life had other plans.

For those who don’t know, Guyana is in South America.

People have been telling me not to go alone… but people also told me not to go to India alone and not to move to Hawai’i alone. 😭 Clearly, I don’t listen.

Life is about traveling, experiencing different cultures, building community, choosing love over fear, and allowing yourself to be changed by the places and people you encounter.

Did you grow up wiping her tears, angry at your father because you couldn’t understand how someone could tell you they loved you while hating the woman who gave you life?

Did you watch your mother beg for love? Watch her compromise herself? Hear her tell you never to have children? Watch this beautiful woman become insecure because of men?

Did you watch her carry big dreams, only to never pursue them because she had children and spent her life chasing love, not realizing that everything she desperately wanted from a man already existed within her?

Sometimes I sit in a dark room and cry for her.

I was her once.

But I got out.

I can’t be that woman. I’ll never be her again.

They tell me I’m going to end up alone.

Okay.

Alone? On an island, living in a treehouse? I have friends. I have community. Love resides within me. I’m kind. I smile. My life is full of love because I built it that way.

My money is for me. I don’t have to consider someone who probably isn’t even considering me. I can dance until 5 a.m., come home, and no one makes me feel guilty. I can simply live.

I am living the life every woman in my family before me dreamed of, especially my mother.

This isn’t just for me.

I’m not leaving Hawai’i. I’m not sharing my treehouse with a man. I’m not compromising the life I’ve built. I’m not risking my life to have children, only for you to switch up one day. I’m not sharing my bed. I’m not sharing my space.

I enjoy your company. The sex can be amazing. But I don’t want to be your girlfriend. I don’t want to be your wife.

I’d never show you my favorite waterfall spots. I’d never take you on my trips. Those parts of my life belong to me.

I love my freedom. I love my solitude. I love the power that comes from being completely comfortable in my own company.

You will not get close enough to take that away from me. This works for me.

I hate that women who are seen as “innocent” or “good girls” aren’t allowed to be sexual or embrace that side of themselves without people acting shocked. It’s like people think women can’t evolve, become more comfortable with themselves, or exist in more than one way.

Women are allowed to twerk, cuss, be ratchet, be sexy, be sensual. None of that takes away from our kindness, intelligence, or character.

People project that image onto me too… until they see me shaking ass, find out I listen to Sexyy Red, or realize I enjoy sex. Then it’s, “OMG, who are you?”

I’m me. I’ve always been me. I’m allowed to exist in all my complexity.