TAYLER ROXANNE

Tonight I heard someone say something very interesting.  That person said “I believe there is only one person for each of us, and I’ve already had mine. There won't be another love like it for me ever again.” 

This hit me hard.  Think about it just for a moment, even though we’re told not to think about this concept.  We’re told there are plenty of fish in the sea!  But think about it, for just a second, how special it would be and how important it would be for the human race, if we really had only one person out there for us.   Either you found them and it worked out, you found them and it couldn’t work out, or you never found them at all.

What if we met the one too soon, or that one special person too late in life?  Would we view it the same way?  A regret or an acceptance.  What if, during our own journey, we never find the route taken straight to them, but we know not to spend so much time searching?

When I was 22 years old I believed I had found the one. It really was love at first sight.  When I saw him, I knew he was everything I had been waiting patiently for.  When I first met him, every single moment with himwacs like a dream. A month and a half after our first date, he was involved in a serious automobile accident.  I didn’t know it at the time, but he was seriously injured and could've easily been killed.  One of the things he told me a few nights after the accident was that as it was happening, he thought of me.  All that came to his mind was me and how it wasn't fair for him to go yet because he had finally found me, and he was terrified that this would be it for us.  I spent the next 6 years of my life after that trying to find eternal happiness with him.  But life changes, uncontrollable circumstances, even timing proved victory over our potential eternity, and we ended our relationship last spring. 

This past summer I met someone who had met their own soulmate at an even younger age.  She was his best friend, she was his first love, and she was his future.  He had found the one. On a tragic night there was an accident when they were both 22 years old, the same year I was when I met my love.  His love died in a freak accident, and to this day I know he hasn’t recovered. He still keeps pictures of her on his wall and carries her with him permanently, closest to his heart.  

“What if’s” get quite a bad reputation.  We’re told not to explore “what if’s” because they can only bring us feelings of regret and false hope.  But the “what if’s” can suggest an easier universal thinking.  An alternate way of perceiving even time and what we cannot control. 

If there is, indeed, only one person for each of us, how utterly amazing would it be to find that person.  We wouldn’t take for granted the time we had with them.  Gratitude and peacefulness would burst through the atmosphere.  The ultimate feeling of content prolonged.  Every minutes of every day would not be spent thoughtlessly and every thought of every small hindrance or negativity would fall to the waste side. If I had known, if I could trust that I had found my “one,” would I have worked harder on our relationship despite the strains.  If he was aware that she was all he would ever need, would he be able to cope with her loss today, trusting and finding comfort in the fact that he had found her and they were able to love as they did, even if for a shorter while?  Would it make it easier for him to move on, understanding that he had found the one true love, and though that time was over, he was thankful and wiser for it?

I wonder too, if I had truly found my one person, and it was over, would I stop searching so desperately for the “next one.”  Would he be able to accept he isn't ready to find his “next one” and to know that this is okay?

In contrast, after “the one,” is the “next one” enough?  For example, how can my friend find the next one without the utter despair that this new love isn’t his first?  The “next one” will always be compared and tried against a certain bar that has been previously set by her.  For me, how can I allow my next love to grow organically when I know what needs to be controlled and manipulated in order to not have the same mistakes happen again? When you feel you’ve lost such a love you’d do anything to prevent that loss from happening again.  I’m terrified of repeating my mistakes, even if they weren’t in my power to make or unmake.

Maybe we really do only have one person out there.  Maybe we don’t and there will be plenty of “next ones.” But what can’t be lost here is the impact that love has on us as human beings.  Love is so powerful, so strong, no one love can ever be the same. I don't think I’ll love someone again the way I did when I was 22.  I don’t think my friend will ever be able to replace his tragic loss.  However, I think we need to realize that this is okay.  Maybe my friend will find someone who makes him smile in a new way.  Someone who makes him feel warm and safe in a new way, different from what he received before but not any less fulfilling.  I choose to believe that I will fall deeply in love with someone again, but in a different form, as I have grown and changed and my relationships have too.  

We may not have the fiery adolescent naivety in love ever again.  What we had with our firsts was truly one of a kind that cannot be replaced.  Whether we have the “next one” in store for us or not, we have loved and we should find peace in understanding how beautiful it is that we did. 

"The greatest thing you'll ever learn Is just to love and be loved in return."

Where you come from tells the story of who you are.  People like to say that the past does not make you who you are, but where you're going- that labels you.  I disagree.  Your past will always know you better than any future plans could possibly measure.  Why do we like to pretend that the past parts of us are gone, and all that really matters is the future? Is it ego, or the false promises of a millennial generation? A promise that tells us no matter how poor or disappointing you are, your tomorrow will always make up for it.  A promise that the bigger picture is not as great as the day to day details of your ambition.  The participation trophies for all. We like to vow that tomorrow will reveal us and prove who we really are.  I say who you really are is how you behaved today, right now.  How you behaved yesterday, and even years ago.  

I am 26 years old.  The average life expectancy this day and age is around what? 85 about? Why is it then that the following 59 years (approximately, if I’m lucky) that I have left will tell who I am, and not the previous 26?  The years leading up to my life now are who I am, not who I am pretending I’ll turn into in the next half a century. Why do we hate that? Why can’t we just accept that this is who we are and run with it? Instead of pretending that soon we’ll be who we really want to be.  Because it can be fucking depressing thats why!

Why would I want to believe that I am and always will be a codependent. That I am and always will be a food addict, sugar craver, and over eater.  Or that I am lazier than I thought, an opter for the Netflix and chill rather than a “less than 4 hours of sleep and true Hustler” kind of a girl? Why would I want to believe that I am in a one way relationship, and that I always will be #2 or #3 to this specific spouse that I have chosen? Who the fuck would want to believe that none of that will ever change??? 

Every day that is a “happy” day is the day I turn a blind eye and pretend I have no problems whatsoever and that I'm so damn perfect and awesome because I skipped meals and hit the gym, ran a bunch of errands and burned 2500 calories. Woohoo Tayler, that must make you like the most accomplished person in the world today... #sarcasm.

NOW, I am in no way saying that my glass is half empty. Because it is so full its overflowing. Just because some of the excess is negative, does not mean my cup isn't also concentrated with greatness.

I write music, I play the piano, and I taught myself how to play the guitar in less than 2 days, I can act the fuck out of a scene, I snowboard, surf, self taught myself professional makeup skills, have a brilliant memory, and I sing pretty good as in I can at least make pitch and even harmonize.  I care more about the well being of every good soul I meet more than I care about myself, I save the mentally ill, I go to school for nursing, AND every minute I have, that I’m not spending working or studying, I devote to my spouse and family. I am in no means perfect but I am in no means a waste.

Someone very close to me told me I was “boring”, and that notion is completely unacceptable in my mind.  I am an extroverted introvert. I listen much more than I speak.  I forgive much more than I blame, I allow someone else constant spotlight while I take the shadow, so they are happy too. THIS does not make me any less interesting than the one who cries for attention, the class clown, the show off.

My past? My family, old friends, and childhood enemies. THEY would never classify me as “boring.”

My past knows me.  My past remembers my hours of music writing, and felt my tailbone bruise as I broke my first snowboard shredding down the mountain.  My past loves my laugh, and would do or say anything to hear it. My past thinks I’m so goofy and sees how I really could find humor in the stalest of jokes. It remembers when I’d stay up in my room at night, on the floor, with old eye shadow palettes, mixing colors and taking photos for my “portfolio.” My past even goes back as far as my kindergarten classes, alerting the teacher that other students were feeling sick, or sad, or needed them.  My past loves me, the real me. Not tomorrow, where I plan to be the person I “really am.” 

In reality, tomorrow, I’ll harmonize in my car on the way to work “Ever Long’ by the Foo Fighters (because 98.7 plays it every 10 minutes), and give a pep talk to a suicidal patient at the hospital about how it gets better and that they're woth it.  I’ll memorize every name and need of every patient I meet within the first 5 minutes of my shift. I’ll be day dreaming of my upcoming trip to Mammoth mountain and the fresh powder I’ll be gliding through.  Tomorrow I’ll eat really healthy until the end of the day when I crave a starburst or two. I’ll miss my piano, and go over the new verses I just wrote in my head. I’ll be thinking of acting every once and a while, and how much I miss the feeling of being in a production. The papers and assignments I have due on Monday will give me a little anxiety burst when I remember they need to be completed on time. And I’ll be thinking and missing my boyfriend every second of the entire day. 

These things will all happen, and some seem like they're in my control and subject to change. But there is one thing will never change, and that is that tomorrow I will be the same person that I was today. Tomorrow I will still have all these amazing qualities about myself, as well as the struggles and weaknesses.  What I am starting to realize is that it doesn't matter who you say you're going to be in the morning. You are who you are, and that will never disappear just because sometimes you hope it will. I think what we all need to start understanding is that it’s not who you say you are going to be tomorrow that will change your life. It’s which parts of you, which already exist, are you going to light up and blaze fiercely? Which parts of you will you choose to utilize, moment to moment, to have the most successful day possible.  I use the word “success” cautiously, because we all also need to start realizing that success is different for each person.  It can have so many limits and aspirations that have nothing to do with the person you compare yourself to. What “success” is to one person will NOT be success for you.  And that is okay.  Success does not always have to be characterized by having a six pack and a million dollars in the bank.  Because, for fuck sake, thats not reality and you need to accept that. Success is made that much more possible when you tailor it to yourself, who you are, and your own needs.  There’s nothing wrong with reaching for the stars, but the moon was closer and more fun to bounce around on.

So lets stop pretending that tomorrow will bring what you've always wanted when you become the person you think you're really meant to be. Looking in the mirror at this very second will tell you that. You don't need to go to sleep and pass 8 hours of time to turn into the unicorn you think you are.  Look through the photos, remember the old times, because that is who you are. 

I am that 10 year old girl forming a 90′s girl band in my childhood friend’s bathroom.  I am the girl blasting sublime, crushing on Shaun White, and headed up to bear with my season pass. I am the cinderella, giving up my pretty pretty princes crown for the lesser cool earrings, just so that the other little girl can have what she thought she needed to make her feel most special. These are what I need to look to, not to the “motivation” to become someone who isn't “boring” and the someone who people really want.  Someone who will be rich, and have all the new clothes, and have abs and much smaller thighs, because “tomorrow will bring it.”

How many times have you gone too far, said too much, spilled out that unattractive word vomit? And how many times will it take before the mistakes and regrettable action's lessons are valued and solidified in your soul?

Feelings are adequate. Feelings may be felt. That is not the issue here. The issue is the methods in which our newer generations have chosen to express themselves, their opinions, and their beliefs. Using violence and unintelligible means of injustice to raise awareness of their unhappiness with violence and injustice. How does either bring solution to the latter?

It may be as small as taking an argument out of context in the heat of the moment. As big as looting small business and threatening others with harm towards themselves and their families. How will either of these things bring you answers? How will the vast spectrum of wrong doing make the ultimate right doing? 

I'm plenty guilty of saying things I didn't mean, doing things out of spite I should not have done. We all have strong emotions which we no longer fear, as a younger generation, to express. But we are forgetting to learn from the generations before us. In order to make the most of who we are, to prove our intellectual capacity is greater than most give us credit for, we have to think above how we are behaving now.

Write, campaign, pause and reflect on what it is exactly that is eating you up inside and strategically apply your energies to expressing the values and rights that you believe so heartily in.

Remember,

"You can't succeed coming to a potluck with only a fork."

I think we've forgotten that there are so many other ways to get your message across. Collaborate, bring more to the table to offer to others besides yourself. Your brain alone can birth so much more than illiterate exploits and tyrant antics. But as someone told me before, feel and act from your soul over your heart, and your heart over your head. 

Wake up, generation Y. Think before you act; Convey your hopes and dreams properly, so they may be truly heard. 

I'm just in awe of how much people can grow and change in such a short amount of time. If you asked me 5 years ago, where I saw myself at age 30, I definitely would've told you I saw myself driving the boys to t ball practice, in my escalade, then playing with my family in the back yard of my white picked... BLAHBLAHBLAH! My how I have grown up! The other night a man at a bar asked me where I saw myself in 10 years. Im almost 25 now, so with where I plan to be at 35- I gave him  my answer. Traveling. Everywhere. Greece, Italy, Spain, Costa Rica, Sweden, Russia, London... No Kids yet- OH NO NO NO. Just learning, soaking in every bit of knowledge this world has to offer. Preferably with my future best friend. No suburban married couple life for me anymore. I want to be with someone who shares my passions for exploring, art, culture, and spontaneity. I want to own my own home, settle with someone and build an empire of course- but theres so many things to be done with this life- how dare I stay inside the box lined with white picked fencing!

I really find it enticing- the fact that someone can stand on the outside, peer in, and see something entirely different than the person on the inside, looking out. My friends and family tell me they saw something a part of my life as a negative, when all I ever did was disagree, churning it positive in my mind. I told myself over and over again that we were different, I made myself believe. Remove the biased oculars and we were no different at all.

"And you sat sidelined? For all of that?"

"I know. I know."

I'm an enabler, it's what I do. I've only ever looked for the light in people, ignorant to their darkness. I believe that everyone deserves a first chance with kindness, respect, hospitality, etc. This has left me seeming innocent, gullible to a fault. Its gotten me into trouble; danger easily finding me. However, I will always believe a person is good, no matter how evil their actions brand them. 

About two years ago I tried to save something. I'm a saver. I'm always trying to save people, save feelings, save memories, salvage relationships. Two years ago I destroyed something. No, not something- someone. I destroyed myself and even worse, I destroyed myself for someone else. I was superwoman. I was one bad-ass Bitch. I was bossy, motivated, aspirational, powerful, stubborn, icy- a true force to recon with.  I was a stone, you couldn't reach my heart with a jack hammer. The walls were so high- guaranteeing my pursuers an impossible climb. And I loved that about myself because I knew that it meant I was destined for nothing less than the ultimate greatness. But then I fell in love.

"A wise girl kisses but doesn't love, listens but doesn't believe, and leaves before she is left." Then she went and fucked it all up.

You know how they always tell you- "don't change yourself for a man"? I hadn't planned on it. 

I fell in love, but it wasn't a love to be taken lightly. It wasn't lust and it hadn't stemmed from a one night stand. It wasn't a lie or put on for dishonest intentions. This was real, I-found-the-one love, for both parties. But over time, my walls, my motivations, my work ethics, my strength taxed my new lover. He couldn't deal as the things that once attracted him to me became things he now detested. Choosing work over shooting the shit with his friends, choosing sleep for a final the next day over drinks at the bar. All of these decisions, these choices I made for my career and my dreams, but he only saw them as priorities proving him not to be one of mine. (Ionically the tables turn in the end yet he is not what I am. Not a saver nor an enabler.)

It wasn't until the day he left, that I changed. It was like a switch, so easy and THAT SUDDEN. click.

Its amazing what the heart will do to save something. I changed completely. I was suddenly a beggar and a pleader. My walls- they came crashing down. I stopped my work, I gave up my sleep, and became a lesser, damsel-in-destress victim- just the girl he thought he wanted. Until he didn't want that either.

So suddenly I didn't know who to be. The strong, untouchable female was wrong. The weak, needy damsel was wrong. What was I to become for him to love me again but an empty shell, desperate to be filled with exactly what he wanted? Which of course, he didn't even know.

I think back a lot now, to what I could've been if I had never met him. Kept moving forward, RELENTLESS and unstoppable. What could I have had now almost three year later? Damn would I have made it by now? Been successful by now? Doing the thing I LOVE for a living by now?

I wished, wished, wished I had never met him. Until I realized what I would never have gained if I HADNT met him.

I remember one night, one of many in the very beginning, when we were together, around his table, playing games, drinking and having a good laugh. I remember I went to use the bathroom. I washed my hands and stood up straight, checking myself in his mirror. I'll never forget this- I paused and took in fully that I was finally happy. I couldn't believe it, I was so happy and I was so thankful that I held my hand to the ceiling and said thank you! At the time I was looking up to God and THANKING HIM. I couldn't believe what he had finally brought to me. This man, the one man to do this to me: shatter the ice, make my heart flutter, show me TRUE LOVE. Proving this ridiculous notion was a real thing. It was the greatest gift, I thought. 

Now, in the present, none of it was enough. Ah if only love was really all you needed. But it's not. 

I was taken for granted, I was ignored, I was left behind. I sat "sidelined." I support you, I'm here for you, whatever you want, you you YOU.

I gave up everything for you and it wasn't enough?

I haven't decided if it was all worth it yet, by the way. Was it really better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all?

When a woman loves you she will never forget how it felt to love you. But break her heart and she will never, ever let it go.

I haven't blogged on here for a long time,

Mainly because when I do blog and vent, it's come from a darker place, from my depression, or anxiety. And lately- I haven't had any.

I have been recovering from Depression for about 2 years now, and I can say that I've finally reached a point where I feel like I've beat it.  Sure Depression will always be there. I really feel like once you've had it, you're always at higher risk for a spell.  But right now I'm happy. Not always but mostly happy :) I also believe that my eating disorders are gone.  Yes, don't know if I've bluntly written it out before, but I have suffered from poor body image and Binge eating disorder- all spurring from my depression.  I don't binge anymore.  In fact I find myself rarely even thinking about food- because my tummy growls and I'm like- Oh yeah, food. I also workout a lot more, releasing those insanely healthy endorphins. Keeps me in check with food too because I need to fuel my metabolism and remember not to slow it down whether that entails over eating or starvation.  

People ask me now how I'm doing. How my life is.  Lately my answer has been "great in some areas, shitty in others." But I never let the shittiness over power my good areas. Because truthfully, I'm happy in EVERY area BUT my finances... my finances are shit. So, if I let myself dwell on my finances, I'll be depressed. If I let myself dwell on my current job situation. I'll be depressed. I'm not acting for a living. YET. And thats where my happiness comes in, and makes this month stand out above the past.  Finally I've been feeling the hunger to follow my dreams more than ever.  I'm writing, creating, and working now to take my next steps.  My life starts with me and what I put into it. And because I'm happy I really believe that.

"Does it ever go away?  No, I don't think it does. Not for me, it hasn't - has gone on for eleven years. But it changes though. How? I don't know... the weight of it, I guess. At some point, it becomes bearable. It turns into something that you can crawl out from under and carry around like a brick in your pocket. And you even forget it, for a while. But then you reach in for whatever reason and - there it is. Oh right, that. Which could be aweful - not all the time. Not that you'd like it exactly, but it's what you've got instead of your son. So, you carry it around. And it doesn't go away. Which is... Which is what? Fine, actually."

When I was 19, I lost my best friend. It was sudden.  I was helpless.  I remember so vividly, the feeling of something being completely ripped from me. Leaving this gaping hole in my body, my stomach, my heart. I cried myself to sleep for a few weeks. I took those 45 minutes showers, clutching the cold tile wall while the water poured over me, comforting, warm, and soft.  I don't think I ate anything for a few days. Nothing felt worth it, there was no taste, no satisfaction that could replace what I was missing. My mind swarmed with past times, especially during the first few days. I couldn't stop obsessing over the moments I'd never have again. Talking to her when no one else would understand, taking endless photographs with her, re-living special times together which could only be found in my private memories. I think the strangest part of my healing process is forgetting what she looks like.  It hit me a little over a year later.  I couldn't remember the simplest things about her.  How she felt to hold, her voice, her tendencies and little habits. Right now, almost 5 years later, I can't even picture her at all.  Just some faint, distant shadow of a memory.

But, it does get better. You will never forget how much you loved her, what she did for you, and all that she meant to your life. She may be lost to your touch, but never to your heart. She'll always be with you, no matter where you go her gaze will follow you. Watching, waiting, loving, and protecting you. 

As for now,

Days are up and down for me. Sometimes I feel like I'm finally happier than I've been in the last 6 months. Sometimes I look back and miss the old days and think maybe I'm not strong enough yet. But either way there's one thing I've finally learned and come to fully understand. Your heart will always be right. And your mind will always be wrong. It is the truth of love, beauty, and life itself. 

I remember when I first wanted to tell you that I loved you. There were several moments. One night into the beginning of us I wanted to tell you when I held your hand for the first time, on the beach. Four days in you wanted to tell me you loved me when you bought me a tooth brush for your place and replaced your old sheets with new ones. One week in I told everyone but you that I loved you when some asshole kissed me at the bar. Two weeks in you wanted to tell me you loved me when you burst through the door after work and rushed straight to me with the warmest hug because it'd been a whole 5 hours since we'd seen each other. All of these moment created because we felt something so great and powerful we were unable to form the feelings into words and instead turned them to actions. "Actions speak louder than words" is a saying because actions come from feelings and words come from thought. My brain couldn't fathom how much I loved you. It couldn't even begin to contain it. But my heart could.

Before I could think or move my lips to say anything, I could feel it all. Before anyone can ruin their feelings with over thinking them, inhibiting our true nature with hindering thoughts, we can feel.  

And that is why your heart will always be right, and your brain will always be wrong. What you feel is what should be. So before we decide that our thoughts of uncertainty, mistrust, and analysis breed what should and shouldnt be, we must always choose what we feel instead.

Throw back Thursday:

"Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, glory in the flower, we will grieve not; rather find strength in what remains behind"