Forgiving Others and Yourself in 6 Steps

So this is just the first part of a series I put together on the subject of forgiveness. It’s something that many people struggle with, no matter what age.  Simply my point of view on forgiving yourself, friends, family, and others people in your life — and how learning how to forgive can make you happier in the long run.

Lesson #1 – Forgiving Yourself

I’m not going to act like I know everything about forgiveness because I definitely don’t. I’m not going to pretend like I understand all types of pain that warrant or don’t warrant forgiveness either. However, I do know a bit about coping. I know about resilience. I know about growth. I know about strength. Everyone has their own experiences, but I really believe that if you want to be able to forgive others, you must be able to forgive yourself first. Of course, while forgiving yourself is important, you still want to own up to your actions and take responsibility. Don’t be a dick and blame others for your own poor decisions. Understand why you did what you did, make amends, put a plan in place for the next time you find yourself in a similar situation, make peace with it, and move forward with your life.

Here’s my recipe for forgiving yourself in outline form:

  • Feel Your Feelings
  • Take Responsibility
  • Understand Why You Did What You Did
  • Accept that Some People Won’t Forgive You
  • Put a Future Plan in Place
  • Make Peace With It

Whenever I had a disagreement with someone in the past, I would only see red. There was no room for empathy, just blame and resentment. Whenever I did something wrong (and I knew I was wrong), I’d go to the complete other end of the spectrum and wholeheartedly blame myself, sometimes burying myself in self-hate. There was no deep reflection, there was simply blame, anger, sadness, negativity, and a feeling of entitlement almost…and all of that was suffocating. It led me nowhere.

pexels-photo-256658.jpegFEEL YOUR FEELINGS.

I used to have an issue with cheating on my partners. In one relationship, the entire affair blew up in my face, and I was forced to tell my boyfriend at the time that I cheated on him. No surprise, but we broke up, and I felt…EVERYTHING. I felt remorse, sadness, guilt, anger, self-pity, and most of all, I felt shame. It was the first time in my life that I had to directly deal with the consequences of my actions. It was a reality check! It haunted me, and I think it was supposed to haunt me. The look on his face. The judgement and humiliation I felt from my friends. His friends. The overwhelming feeling of shame that kept me from talking about it for many years. The anger I felt towards him for telling my friends and family about how I cheated on him. The sadness and regret from losing someone important to me for something so fleeting. All that good stuff.

Make sure you feel all your feelings. Just feel, don’t act.

Many people will tell you that it’s not ok to feel angry, especially if it’s your fault. Some people might even say that you deserve to feel shitty. I’m telling you, feel whatever the fuck you want to feel for a few days, get that out of your system, and then start looking at the bigger picture. You fucked up, so stop making excuses, stop feeling bad and harping on it, what’s done is done. It’s time to pick yourself up.


This was never the hard part for me. I’ve always been pretty good at owning up to my mistakes and taking responsibility for my actions.

I grew up in a strict Chinese household, where every “mistake” made was harshly punished. There was no room for cockiness, clap backs, excuses, smartass comments, or disobedience. If you lost your cool, you’d get hit — even if you showed remorse. Because you’re willing to “take your punishment,” it built character and humility. I’m not knocking on my Chinese heritage, but that mentality truly fucked with me growing up, especially going into adolescence and adulthood. It affected all my relationships and made me look at the concepts of right and wrong in an unhealthy and extreme, black-and-white kind of way. Ironically, it also made me look at things that were “morally wrong,” such as cheating, lying, or stealing, in a “well, if I don’t get caught, it’s fine” kind of way. Of course, when I got caught, I’d react the same way I did as a child…I’d cry, accept my punishment, blame myself, and never talk about it again. BLAH.

Anyways, I was so good at taking responsibility, I’d even start putting myself down. Blaming myself for everything, even on faults that weren’t mine.  This self-punishment helped me feel better. People react differently to each situation, but my method only took me so far. What’s the point in taking responsibility for my actions if I might just do it again in my next relationship? I needed to do something about it.



Instead of pretending those weak moments never happened or drowning yourself in self-pity, you need to dig deep. Remember all those feelings you felt earlier? Look at each of those feelings, and try to understand why you felt that way. I could see why I felt remorse and shame, but why did I feel anger? Why did I cheat on my previous boyfriends before? Was I bored? Were they assholes? What brought me to that point in the first place? When did I start feeling differently about my boyfriend?

This self-exploration took a long time to figure out. In short, I was a very passive aggressive and nonconfrontational person. I was a coward. If a boyfriend didn’t treat me well, instead of communicating with him or breaking up with him, I’d cheat as my sort of secret “revenge.” Cheating is much easier than having to deal with a difficult and real conversation. However, after dealing with the fallout, I realized the consequences weren’t worth it. I needed to stop being a wuss and have that difficult conversation instead. Hurting someone by ending a relationship is a much better alternative to hurting someone by cheating on them. Having real talk means you’re being fair to yourself and to the other person, but doing so also takes a lot of balls.

People respect good ole’ integrity and balls. They don’t respect cheaters. That brings me to my next point.



I lost a lot of friends during that time I went through that cheating fiasco. At first, I was sad and thought I deserved it, and maybe I did. Then, I was angry and held a grudge, telling myself that these people who don’t forgive me don’t deserve my friendship anyways. Eventually, I learned to let go of all the spiteful thoughts, and simply accept it. Some people might judge you for your transgressions for the rest of your life, and that’s perfectly fine. People have the right to their own opinions. Their decision to not forgive you may even be justified. In the end, you gotta let these things slide.

You cannot control the actions of other people, you can only control your own.

The point of forgiving yourself is that you do it, not others. At this point, you should already know in your heart that you will be a better person moving forward. That you will NEVER go backward, in fact, you’ll work on being better with every day. If other people can’t see that right now, that’s just the way it is. As long as you know that you’re going to change.

And how will you know that you won’t make the same mistake again?


I’m going to emphasize this part. You need to follow through on your future promises or else you’ll find yourself repeating the same bad decisions over again. You already know how to put yourself in a bad situation, now, the plan is to avoid getting yourself in that situation ever again. In my case, I already knew I was never going to do that to someone again. But how did I get there in the first place? There was a point in my relationship when I started accepting friend requests, a guy would message me, and I’d flirt. That was the beginning of it – and that was the part I needed to stay alert about.

I put together a freaking mantra ya’ll. Seriously. I repeated to myself, “The next time I’m in a relationship, and it comes to the point where I find myself craving attention from someone else, it’s time to either communicate and try harder OR break up.” I made that promise to myself, and I’ve kept it ever since. There’s nothing worse than lying to yourself, so you must honestly commit to yourself first. Use your mistake as motivation to be stronger and better in the future.

Finally, MAKE PEACE WITH IT. pexels-photo-310983.jpeg

I didn’t realize I was over my cheating shame until I started dating my current boyfriend. I told him I had cheated before, but that I had stopped forever (something like that). At first, he got mad, and did the whole “how will I know you won’t do that to me?” ma-jig. Understandable question, but I wasn’t that same person from before anymore. I knew who I was, and I knew all the hard work it took for me to get here. I also knew the role that cheating thing played in my life and how it’s shaped the person I am today.

I didn’t feel the need to defend myself, and I didn’t feel the need to explain the entire situation. I told him, that person was a different me. I paid my dues, put myself through hell already, and if he can’t get past judging me for who I was 10 years ago, then he can move along. I told him early on during our dating phase. It was a delicate conversation, but he let it go right away. He could see and hear my conviction when it involved my self-improvement, and best of all, he still trusted me because I was honest about it.


If you actually want to follow through and become that best version of yourself, you’ll understand that change doesn’t just happen overnight. I’ve struggled with the concept of forgiveness for a long time. Whether it’s being forgiven or forgiving someone else, conquering the art of forgiveness is an essential step towards moving forward with your life, letting go of resentment and grudges, as well as pushing yourself towards growth and improvement. The whole ordeal can be frustrating and nerve-racking, but at the same time, it can also be strangely cathartic and empowering.

*Note: This post addresses “regular” life stresses and should not be applied to serious traumas. If you find yourself in a super traumatic situation and don’t know how to deal with it, I strongly suggest seeing a professional to help sort out your feelings.

*Second Note: I have no idea how to match images with captions, so some of them might not really make sense.

Take care,

How to Let Him Down Gently

So you’ve been dating someone for a little bit, but you’re not really into whatever you guys have for whatever reasons. I’ve been through several, several uncomfortable breakups, from long-term to casual, and although I might not have dealt with some of them correctly, there are others that ended quite well.

Here’s a rundown of some of my most memorable breakup experiences along with some commentary from my student-therapist self.

The Pushover: I dated this guy for a year, and honestly, the relationship was good. We had plenty of good times together, and I really cared about him, but I wanted to see other people. I wasn’t physically attracted to him, and I never got those *butterflies* around him. Whenever we fought, he would throw in the towel, agreeing with everything I said, regardless of whether or not I was right. I was restless and felt *stuck* in a relationship that didn’t give me excitement and I wasn’t even old enough to drink yet.

The Break Up: I told him I didn’t want to be in a relationship anymore, and we both cried like babies (because we were babies). I was kind, and there for him, but felt an immense guilt about hurting him. It also didn’t help that I immediately began dating again less than two weeks afterward. He heard about it, and it didn’t only ruin my friendship with him, but also our mutual friends.

Advice: When you’re breaking up with a guy you’ve been seeing for awhile, even though you’re tempted to date other people, it’s still important to give yourself some time alone. Even though I was already mentally checked out of my relationship, there was no rush getting into a new one so quickly. Dating so quickly afterward was a sign of disrespect according to some of our mutual friends, and it was really a disservice to everyone, especially myself. Not to mention, your new guy does not want to feel like a rebound.

The Fling: Dated this guy for a total of one week, and even though I was extremely attracted to him towards the beginning, I started to notice some bad habits of his that immediately turned me off. He was clingy. He overstayed his welcome. He would blast his alarms for hours in the morning at MY APARTMENT (note: I’m not a morning person). He was obsessed with Good Charlotte (He’s a grown ass man listening to music I listened to during my highschool emo phase). He had terrible credit. He was a cheapo.

The Break Up: Honestly, I ghosted.

Advice: While ghosting someone is nonconfrontational and super easy to do, this doesn’t mean it’s the right thing. Again, it’s a respect thing, and you’re basically showing someone that you’re an asshole douche when you ghost them. This guy had no idea what happened, and made numerous efforts to spark something up when nothing was there. Don’t ghost, just be direct, and say, “Hey, I don’t want to lead you on or waste your time, and it’s been fun hanging out, but I don’t think we’re compatible.” Blah. Something as simple as that illustrates more class than a ghost.

The Guy You Love But It Won’t Work: I went out with this guy for about half a year, and I was crazy about him from the beginning. I thought he was perfect, but I could see all the red flags. He was handsome AF, charming, intelligent, confident, and a generous philanthropist. YOU THINK A GUY LIKE THAT IS ONLY SEEING ONE GIRL? Well, there are some guys like that, but he wasn’t one of them. This guy “ended things” with me for another lady the first month we were hanging out. When things went sour between the two, I wanted to play the “cool girl” to get him back. And he did come back, but it wasn’t the same anymore. Even though he pushed me to be a better, more successful, more considerate person, at the end of the day… there was no trust in the relationship. This, and a whole buncha other issues too, such as jealousy, insecurity, and terrible communication.

The Break Up: I broke up with him through a text message, “I’m sorry. I’ve been busy. I also started seeing someone else, didn’t know how to tell you.” As you can imagine, this was not the best way to end things with someone I cared about. I still believe I sent that out of spite because he did that to me towards the beginning of our relationship. What I’ve learned from my painful and mindfuck-y divorce was that if someone isn’t right for you, don’t force it. You cannot force love, kindness, respect, communication, and trust. But especially trust. These are the building blocks of any healthy relationship.

Advice: I should have waited before sending that text message. I should have texted him something more honest. The real reason why I didn’t want to see him anymore was because we weren’t right for each other, timing-wise and maturity-wise. We wanted different things. We always had an issue with communication, and that dysfunctional-ass final text message pretty much illustrated exactly how fucked up we were with discussing about our feelings. I actually messaged him back months later explaining that I think about him often, and hope he’s well, but I wanted something more serious, and seeing him was not helping me move on. He appreciated that text a lot more, and even commented on how much I’ve “grown.” Pssh…

The Longterm Relationship: Dated this guy for four years, and we lived together. The relationship was great, if you didn’t count the fights, which happened quite often. Towards the end of our relationship, we were fighting daily. Big ass fights, not physical, but we would just verbally attack each other all day. He traveled about a third of the year, so I was alone a lot. Whenever I tried to tell him I missed him, it built up to a point where he straight up told me I needed to get a life.

The Break Up: I wanted to break up with him for a month, but didn’t know how to say it. I started hanging out more with friends, spending more time at work functions, and simply going out to cafes away from him. I didn’t have the courage to tell him, until we both went out drinking one night, and he asked me, “Do you still want to be with me?” and I answered “No…” Then he went through a crazy fit, first insulting me, then begging for me back. The whole thing was painful AF. I started dating another guy a month afterwards.

Advice: There’s clearly a trend here! And it’s basically… I don’t like being alone. I like being in a relationship (clearly), but I don’t want to be in a relationship that is boring or makes me unhappy. Ending a longterm relationship can really shift your world into instability for a bit, and again… dating so soon afterward is not only a betrayal but shows others how much you (don’t) respect someone you supposedly “love.” I should have given myself time to at least find a permanent place of my own, fully moved out of my ex’s apartment, before dating again. I remember my mom told me I should have just stayed in the apartment by myself…but at the time the idea was too depressing. Going out to bars/clubs/living dat single-girl life so quickly after a break up is also setting yourself up as easy prey for creepers. After this breakup, I met the biggest creeper of my life, and ended up clinging to him because I didn’t have a solid handle on my own life.

From my experience, being direct, honest, and gentle helped me the most. Communication is something I’ve learned with experience (and still learning), but also an awareness of post-dating etiquette. There’s no need to end things on a spiteful or hateful note (unless the dude was super abusive or something), and just remember that you wouldn’t appreciate it if you got dumped by a dude who started dating immediately after you. In the end, we can all learn to be better.


More Posts to Come Soon!

Apologies readers! I must confess, I have been pretty busy for the past half year. In the span of about 8 months, I managed to do a lot.

Here are some highlights:

  • Started seriously dating and now I’m in a new relationship!
  • Landed myself two new writing jobs, both remote and part-time!
  • Applied, got accepted, and started attending grad school!
  • Found a good divorce lawyer and finalizing my divorce!
  • Managed to train my dog new tricks such as “paw”, “down”, and “up”!

I’m still getting into the swing of things, which is why I’ve been MIA, but I swear I’ll post some awesome posts when I’m on break. I’ll write about all that good stuff (mostly my frustration with my past and with love), and even more. Since I started school for clinical psychology (to become a therapist ha!) I’m learning so many new things that I would love to share. Hopefully you’ll find it helpful.

You can see from the above bullet points that I’ve reached a bunch of milestones in my life.. so of course I have many things to say about it. I’m excited because now, whenever I say some shit like “Why do I keep making these bad decisions?” I can actually analyze the shitaki mushrooms out of that statement, look at my past, and I dunno, pull in some theory from Freud, so you know I’m not just talking out of my ass.

Unfortunately, I have class in an hour, an article to write after I post this, a dog to walk, and a date later tonight. It’ll have to wait a bit, but I wanted to give you a quick update and let you know… I’M STILL HERE!

STORYTIME: Lost My Cool With Potential Dream Guy

Dog toys were scattered everywhere at Troy’s place (the dude in this post: Who Keeps the Dog? Stealing Simba Back From My Crazy Ex). He had just gotten home from work, and I was at his apartment babysitting our dogs. He whipped a cigarette out from his pack of Marlboro Reds, and *chkkkh* (that’s the sound of his lighter lol). I take this as the green light to take out one of my cigarettes, and I join in on the smoking.

I updated Troy on my day, told him his doggy was good at the dog park earlier, and that both dogs should probably stop by the park one more time before I go home. He nodded and looked out the window. *Puff puff*

We got along pretty well (think of this relationship as a bro/sis relationship!!!), and in the middle of our chat, the subject of dating came up. I told him I’m casually dating, but not looking for anything serious because of my situation (at the time, I was still married, unemployed and lame). I needed to focus on other things such as my dog, my apartment, and finding a job.

Troy: So, I don’t know if you’re looking for dudes, but I know a guy who lives in my building who seems like a real ladykiller.
Me: Oh yeah? Well.. I’m a maneater! (I’m not)
Troy: I can introduce you guys, but don’t get mad at me if it doesn’t work out.
Me: Huh? Who said I wanted to meet him? Don’t introduce us! I’m not in the right place to meet guys, and there are so many other dudes in my life already. I can’t.
Troy: *SHRUGS* OK, sure. Up to you, let me know when you change your mind.

And that was that. Until we finished our cigarettes and went downstairs to the dog park.

Troy went ahead with his dog and flew past me! Meanwhile, I struggled to hold on to my fur baby Simba (he sucks at walking on a leash by the way) as he pulled me towards another direction.

I remember seeing someone else heading towards the dog park with their dog. I remember fighting to keep Simba next to me. I remember Simba pulling me towards the other person and their dog. I remember Simba running circles around me and the other owner so that we were tangled up. I remember apologetically looking up at the other owner, and I remember being pleasantly surprised.. thinking, “Wow.. this guy is fucking hot.” Then it clicked.


Anyways, Troy’s beautiful friend’s name was Jonathan. I don’t even want to give him a nickname because his name is so darn common. But yeah..homeboy had me flustered. Something I don’t often feel for a dude.

Honestly, whenever I’ve interacted with guys of Jonathan’s “hot” caliber, I usually tried to play it cool as if I weren’t interested AT ALL. *sigh*

Back to my story, after we untangled our doggy leashes, we were both all smiles when we finally joined Troy at the dog park.

I found out that Jonathan was not only tall, dark, and handsome.. he was also smart and athletic. He was also successful. He was a year older than me, a busy guy, social, stylish, with a smug swagger about him. Not to mention his dog was incredibly well-behaved.. especially compared to my nutcase of a fur ball.

I didn’t really have much to say about myself. I told him I was freelance writing. He responded, “So you’re unemployed?” Ouch. *insert insecure reaction here* I mean. Yeah, I was unemployed too, but damn. SO EMBARRASSING. Smart guys pick up on everything. THIS WAS WHY I DIDN’T WANT TROY TO INTRODUCE US.

Although it was a bit awkward at first (we both knew that Troy was setting us up and I’m a lame-0), we eventually hit it off.. and ended up talking about dating apps out of all the subjects. Jonathan told me he recently bought this dating advice website, to which I responded, “I probably read it before.” He laughed lol. Yes. Success.

Next thing you know, we ended up chatting for about three hours. If you’re a dog owner, then you’ll know that being at the dog park for three hours is an obscenely long time. AND WHERE THE EFF WAS TROY?!!? We looked around, and Troy was GONE *POOOOOOF*. How convenient.

Anyways, I guess Jonathan enjoyed our chat. Or maybe he found me boring but physically attractive, but we ended up trading numbers, and I went back to Troy’s apartment. I was in the middle of scolding him when I received a ding on my phone.

Jonathan hit me up with a text, “What r u up to?”

Within three text messages, I was at Jonathan’s place doing stuff. Yeah. Stuff. With Netflix playing in the background.. and that was the beginning of our little fling. UGH I’M A WEAK WOMAN. That night, I remember he said I was welcome to stay over, but I decided to go home. I didn’t want to stay over, c’mon. I know what I look like in the morning, and Jonathan didn’t need to see it. After we did our business, I slept a little bit in his arms, said my goodbyes, and quietly left.

Thinking back, going upstairs to his place the first day we met was my first mistake. When I realized that this guy was Dream Guy material, I should have played my cards WAY differently. Oh well.. what happened happened, and at the time, I didn’t want a relationship, so I ended up throwing opportunities like that out the window.

Everything happens for a reason, right?

Bringing My Dog on a Hike

Life has been a lot better now that I have my dog back (See Related: Who Keeps the Dog? Stealing Simba Back From My Crazy Ex). I’ve been hanging out with friends, getting my court papers in order, and getting settled into my new apartment. I’ve also been trying to get back into working out and being active, so I decided one day to go hiking with Simba.

We went to one of those dog-friendly hiking spots, just me and him. Since my little fur baby was getting older, I wanted to try  taking him off his leash just to see if he’d behave. Well…right now he sucks. His normal while he’s on-leash is to pull, pull, pull. However, when I set this fella loose into the park, he ran around me like some little maniac. Then another owner and her dog walk by, and Simba began following that doggy.

When I mean “following”, I actually mean chasing!

First of all, I was confused and didn’t know what to do. This was a new thing to me. I guess Simba zoned out too because at one point he ran STRAIGHT AT ME, or rather, THROUGH ME.


Like some kind of cartoon character, I was swept forward onto a faceplant. In front of my new friend Monica too!! That’s the name of the other dog owner — the one Simba was chasing. Anyways, she tried really hard not to laugh but girl busted out laughing. Double ouch.

I didn’t really care about the embarrassment, it was pretty funny. But DAMN. It fucking hurt. I now have scratches on my hands, elbows, hips, and I’m definitely going to bruise tomorrow.

Simba: 1, Homegirl: 0

Self Reflections On My Balcony

There was this whole drama I went through when my mom kept accusing me of being a drug addict. When she came to take me back home, my ex had told her that I’m addicted to marijuana. Probably true, but I honestly don’t think weed is bad. My mom on the other hand.. she thinks that shit is like heroine or meth or crack. Bleh.

Troy (The dude who helped me in this post: Who Keeps the Dog? Stealing Simba Back From My Crazy Ex) gave me some weed to take home, so I’ve been smoking a pinch of weed each night at my apartment to help calm my stress nerves.

Oh yeah! I moved into my new place! I’m almost settled, and it makes me feel somewhat stable. So much so that I feel like I’m in the clear to smoke now. Afterall, marijuana is legal in California. *wink* don’t tell my mom though seriously.

The only thing keeping me off-kilter now is my pending immigration interview with an immigration officer and my ex. My mom wants me to go through with it. I don’t. Decisions, decisions.

I’m still broke…and hemorrhaging money everyday. Just my car alone, going back and forth seeing Simba (my dog) from my place to Troy’s. I guess it could be worse.

The important thing is that I have my own spot now, that’s truly mine in a drama-free environment. After a year and a half of struggling, either couch-surfing or living with a fuckboy, I finally have MY OWN APARTMENT AGAIN. Roommates, whatever. It’s a great feeling, and if I wanna smoke a bit, fuck it.

I was smoking a cigarette on my balcony, gazing around my neighborhood. I was listening to an ad for Walmart of Target or something on YouTube, and realized the song was pretty good. It was one of those feel-good, optimistic, dreamy slow songs. While listening to it, I noticed the door open from one of the apartments across the street. A man holding a bright pink shopping bag walked out, and a woman was saying her goodbyes. They embrace. He follows her a bit back in, it seemed like he had something to say. I see a three-year-old kid, only wearing a diaper, happily jumping up and down on the couch behind the opened door. The man said bye to the kid, and that was it. The door closed, and I watched as he went down the stairs, walking away on the sidewalk with his pink shopping bag, checking his phone. I don’t know. It’s interesting to watch people.

I’m learning more things about myself, why I act the way I do. I think about whether or not I should change. All my life, since I was a kid, I’ve looked at guys like a conquest or a crutch. Ever since I was 12-years-old, my mind had always been wrapped around boys. Whether it was boy bands, school crushes, boyfriends, hookups, or dare I say–FUCKINGhusbands– I always prioritized it. That’s bad.

I managed to get by in my own life while being boy-crazy the whole time. Seems like my life is number two, while boy life and my romantic happily ever after was number one. Or perhaps being involved with someone else helped keep me in balance. I don’t know.

What do I want though? I had a lot of time to think about it.

I want to be recognized. I want to make a difference. I want to be respected career-wise. I want to be rich and successful and happy on my own. No man. To me, that is the ultimate dream. After I feel like I’ve reached this point, then perhaps that would be the time to consider something serious…

But how can I stop my feelings? Sometimes, I wish I had the ability to turn my emotions on and off like in The Vampire Diaries. Maybe only when it comes to the opposite sex. AH, a girl can dream right?

Who Keeps the Dog? Stealing Simba Back From My Crazy Ex

After moving back to SF (See: Moving Back to SF and Jump-starting My Car), I didn’t have much. I didn’t have my own place yet (I’ve since moved into my new apartment), I haven’t moved out of my old apartment with my crazy ex (I’ve since received a police escort to retrieve my immediate things), and I was unemployed (I’ve since started freelance writing). Things were falling back into place except for one thing.

My dog. A beautiful golden retriever puppydog named *Simba.

I was on the fence about what to do with Simba. The apartment I currently lived in didn’t allow pets, but with the right service paperwork, I could keep him. That would take time though. The other option was giving him up to a nice family. Sad.

After chatting with my old co-worker about possibly finding another owner for Simba, she instructed me to send a short doggy bio and attach pictures, so she could forward it over to the appropriate people.

I sat in front of my computer staring at the cutest pictures of Simba, and I just didn’t have the heart to do it. I could not give my baby away. So I ended up thinking very hard.. and came up with a third option. I needed to find someone who could temporarily foster Simba. Someone with dog experience who lived in SF.

It took about an hour, but I finally found someone who fit the criteria. His name is *Troy and he was an old acquaintance from college.

I didn’t go into detail, and I honestly didn’t know what he could do for me, but I contacted him. After a few minutes, this dude responds, “I’ll help you.” DUDE. He didn’t even know what I was going to ask for!

Troy: “If you’re desperate enough to ask me, then you’re probably in a bad situation.”

Wow. What a good guy. He didn’t even want to hear the entire story, respected my privacy, and was willing to help foster Simba. I owed him a huge favor.

I realized I owed a lot of people huge favors. All my life, I prided myself in not needing anyone for help, and here I was depending on strangers and friends to keep myself afloat. I will repay them in the future for helping me go through this tough time in my life, I swear.

I happily emailed my old co-worker telling her that I found a solution, and I’m going to keep Simba forever. I’m in it for good now. She was happy. I was happy. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

Even though I officially had a plan for Simba now, I was still worried. My ex kept threatening he was going to sell him on Craigslist. He kept complaining so much that I was concerned about my dog’s safety. If I know my ex, I know he’s irresponsible and inconsistent. He would overfeed Simba one day and another day completely “forget” to feed or even bother walking him. He’s threatened to give him away before, but when the buyer asked for Simba’s paperwork, it had MY NAME on it as his owner. HE’S MY DOG YO, so my ex couldn’t legally give him away without my express permission.

<^>(0_0)<^> The hate is real.

Anyways, I met up with my friend *Lily, and we went on a mission to save Simba from my ex. You see.. Simba lived in my old apartment. I was so scared to enter without a police escort, but the time to call them had passed. I needed to get in there. My ex knew this, which was why he held onto Simba in the first place.

My ex was under the impression that Lily was going to come pick up our dog alone, so he would need to wait outside to let her into the apartment. Nope. She didn’t want to interact with him at all, so we both went stealth-mode in my car. We spied him waiting outside the building, and I snuck in through the side garage, out of sight.

The plan was to get inside undetected, and grab Simba and his things as fast as we could before my ex returned. Unfortunately, Simba threw a fucking wrench into our plans when we got there. Did I also mention that my ex owns a parrot? This parrot might as well been a guard dog because that little thing was squacking away.. drawing so much attention.

To top things off, Simba PEED all over the place from excitement. Does my ex not walk him? This dog peed a fucking ocean in the apartment! So here we were.. parrot screeching his lungs out as I scurried to clean up the pee-pee mess. The trashcan was empty with no bag or anything. I glanced out the window, and MY EX WAS TURNING BACK TO GO INSIDE. Fuuuuuccckkkk.

So in a rush, Lily and I left the mess on the ground and RAN. Barely missing him, I bolted out of the garage and drove AWAY!

We did a victory cheer on the way back to Lily’s place. I believe I even went into my canine-state and began howling. We walked Simba, he did his potty business, I thanked Lily for her time, and I drove straight to Troy’s apartment to drop off Simba. Everything was getting better, bit by bit.

Troy and I came up with a plan: I was going to come by during the day, while he worked, and he could watch Simba at night. I would be around to help as much as I could, and I could also write at his place. Probably better that way.

I was very grateful to everyone who helped me without asking for anything in return, and it’s something I’ll always remember. I’m happy I got my doggy back.

Bumped Into An Old Tinder Match in Real Life

The following Sunday after ending things with Ronny (The dude from this post: Falling for an Unavailable Guy While Still being Married), I spent some quality home girl time with my boo-thang Josie (The girl from this post: Moving Back to SF and Jump-starting My Car). We decided to hit up a local bar to catch the football game and grab a couple beers.

Of course, boys were on my mind, but I mostly wanted to kick back and enjoy the game with my friend. I was (am still) in the middle of finding myself, exploring what I really like, doing things that I want to do without the influence of a man. Yup.

And apparently one of the things I really like doing is watching *hometown* sports games at a *hometown* bar in San Francisco full of obnoxious *hometown* fans. Makes me feel like I’m at home even though I’m actually 3000 miles away. The only bad thing about me watching *hometown* games is.. well.. I’m cursed. Every single football game I’ve ever watched these guys play, they’ve lost. Even when they were still up. Even when they had gone undefeated for the season. I was working on breaking my curse.

About one beer and a bathroom break later, Josie and I walk towards a different corner of the bar, and I immediately recognize this guy.. Steve. We matched on Tinder a couple years ago, but we never met up. He was tall and cute and educated and from the East Coast like me. We both had a love of *hometown* sports, which is how we ended up running into each other.  Like the creep I am, I remembered him. I remembered his name too WTF?

Working my girly swag, I emanated sexual energy. I let that shit radiate off of me. I’m just kidding, but my hair looked great that day. I avoided eye contact and concentrated on the football game, but only after I told Josie about him. She was watching Steve like a hawk, reporting his every movement under her breath to me because we’re sneaky like that.

Josie: “Oh, he just saw you.. He turned around.” (A minute later) “He turned around again, twice, three, he definitely sees you. He’s coming.”

Love that feeling when a guy you find attractive approaches you. More guys should do it. I totally totally encourage that.

Next thing you know, Steve is next to us and starts talking. My initial reaction? He’s not the best conversationalist, but he was my type… physically. He was very cute with them dark eyes, and he ended up inviting us over to his table for some drinks. Unfortunately, Josie didn’t want to join. She was busy working her game on this dude she called “Hapa” (pretty sure this is a derogatory term referring to mixed-Asian dude). Sadly, I failed to notice Josie’s flirting, and I ended up cock blocking her, dragging her to Steve’s table instead. Womp womp, sorry girl.

Let’s be real though. I don’t care how oblivious you are, women usually know when a guy is interested. Steve was definitely interested. Simple hand brush on my lower back. Caress on my arm. His overall proximity. Of course, his interest was kind of obvious since he approached us first and invited us over to his table. Duh.

Blah blah. We were all happily watching the game, it was close. Next thing you know, during a crucial play…*Quarterback throws the ball to *Tight end, who is in the end zone…and *Tight end drops it. Game over. We lost. My curse still exists. So sad.

In a depression, Josie decided to go home, but I told her I was going to stay for a bit to sober up. It ended up being me, Steve and his buddies. When he heard I was planning on driving, he told his friends to go ahead, he’ll come back later. He ended up grabbing some water and ordered a plate full of buffalo wings for me. Man after my heart.

Yes, the way to my heart is food. Lots of delicious, fattening food. We ended up chatting, getting to know each other during this sober-up meal. Talked about his job. Horoscopes. My dog. Schools we went to. The basics.

After an hour or so, I felt fine, so I offered him a ride home since he Ubered out. When I dropped him off, he really went in for a kiss. Man. Good kisser. We traded numbers at the bar already, so he told me to text him when I got back safely. I took a peek at my screen and saw Ronny was still blowing up my phone. I was ignoring him though.

When I got back home, I parked, sat in the car for a bit, and smoked a cigarette while listening to Tove Lo’s “This Time Around” because I’m an emotional mess. Steve was texting, blah blah. It was chill, and he asked me out for that upcoming Thursday night. At the moment, I was interested, so I said OK.

Fast forward to a few days later.

Radio silence, and it was already Wednesday. I got shit to do ya know, so I texted him to confirm. Hours later, he cancelled saying he forgot he made plans with his work buddy.

Whatever, all I heard was FLAKE FLAKE FLAKE. So I didn’t respond.

My photographer friend posted amazing pictures of me and Josie on Facebook shortly after I had finished chatting with Steve. Not gonna lie, we looked like a couple of American Apparel models. You know what I’m talking about, dress real sexy on the top, and then offset the sexiness by throwing on a pair of sneakers instead of heels and proceed to act like fools.

Anyways, I guess Steve was curious about who he cancelled his date with, and BAM. I’m pretty sure he saw my pictures and realized what he did. AIN’T NOBODY FLAKES ON A DATE WITH ME WITHOUT REGRETTING IT LATER BIZNOTCH. CAN’T BREAK THIS CONFIDENCE.

He tried to spark a conversation about one of the pictures my friend posted, but I was pretty dismissive. C’mon. Ain’t nobody got time for that for real. He asked me out again for Friday (hours later) to grab drinks with him and his buddy. He added that I could bring along Josie if I wanted, but I told him I had other plans.

I did not have other plans, but I also didn’t want to hang out with Mr. Flake anymore.

Whatevers. Guys exasperate me.

How to Identify Toxic Relationships

I was reading the latest edition of Psychology Today (the magazine, is there a difference?), and it was about dealing with difficult people. I thought it was really informative and interesting. It made me evaluate family, friendships, and other types of relationship I’ve had in the past, and how I acted with them.

First off, what is a toxic person?

You know what I’m talking about.. It’s that friend who’s June Gloom all year long. It’s that co-worker who’s criticizing what you do no matter how hard you’re trying. It’s that ex who blamed you for every problem. It’s that family member who compared you to a sibling or cousin or friend’s kid. A toxic person is someone who drains your energy, and whenever you leave the room after spending time with them, you consistently feel more negative about yourself and your own life. Perhaps YOU’RE the toxic person *gasp*.

How to Identify the Red Flags? Mmm. Lots of ways.

1) They talk about themselves a lot. No interest in your life at all even if you’re going through something heavy in your own life. Subject is either changed with a swiftness or completely ignored.

2) They are negative, negative, negative Nancy. Down, down, down. Sad face emojis all over the place.

3) They blame others for their problems. Friends, family members, exes, their upbringing, their past, their boss, the person sitting next to them on the bus, the Starbucks barista, Blah, blah. Anyone but themselves, maybe even you.

4) They have an addiction or extreme lack of self-control. Drugs. Alcohol. Sex (like, several times a day everyday sex, or maybe I’m just doing it wrong).

5) They’re manipulative bastards (or bitches!) And you won’t know what hit you. They capitalize on your feelings. They know how to use you.

6) …and lots of other stuff I can’t really recall right now, but you get the gist. 

So basically it’s me!!! Just kidding, but I do have those moments.

I used to think that if a person’s heart was in the right place, and they were THERE for you as a friend.. Then their cons didn’t really matter. I don’t believe that anymore. I really believe that if you decide to keep a toxic person in your life, their bad vibes will not only spread to you (that shit is contagious man), you’ll also have a tough time maintaining your own sanity. If you think that you can take care of them, handle them, or even change/”fix” them, you really need to ask yourself WHY you feel the need to do that. That’s a YOU problem m’dear.

I remember a dear friend I had in college. Let me start by saying we’re not friends at all anymore. We were close, practically besties. We were there for each other when we were struggling, and she helped me out of some shit while we were growing up. We chatted everyday online and hung out regularly. Throughout the years though, our ways of thinking changed. I noticed some things.. She was extremely self-centered, shallow, materialistic, hateful of others, judgemental, insecure, flaky, and she didn’t really empathize well with others.

I was starting to notice that whenever I finished chatting with her, I felt extremely insecure about my own life. She would insinuate things like how I was not good enough. How my then-boyfriend was not good-looking enough. How my other friends were kind of lame. She started criticizing my appearance (my face, my body-shape, things I couldn’t change about myself). Instead of being happy about my promotion, she would say something about how my raise could have been better, or it wasn’t that hard to get promoted. She would ask questions, “how come you sound so much smarter in your writing than you do in person?” Or make comments like, “No offence, but guys approach you because you have a slutty face.” She would blatantly flirt with my boyfriends when my back was turned.

We also went through a lot together. When I was dumped by a boyfriend the day before an important exam, I totally shut down, and she covered for me. She was always available to come over when I was sick or needing a friend. When she found out she had a cancerous tumor growing, I was there for her if she needed anything at the hospital, at home, work. A number of things — we talked about her sucky boyfriends, my sucky boyfriends. Yeah we talked about boys a lot gimme a break.

But it came to a point where our conversations hit a wall. She started judging my other friends on things they couldn’t change. AND she became helllllaaa religious yo.

I finally cut off our 5-year relationship after she told me that all gay people were going to hell. Like she genuinely meant it.. knowing who I was, what I stood for, the good friends I cared about who struggled with their sexuality. I was livid she would say that.. After she had been through what she had been through in life.. She could judge others like that? She even said it didn’t matter whether or not they were good people, “the Bible says it.” OK. The Bible also said some other pretty specific things that she was guilty of.. What did that say about her? In my eyes, she was a hypocrite! Bleh.

It was a friendship that was meant to end, but I hope the best for her.

I haven’t spoken to her in many years, but I’m clearly still thinking about her. Not everyday, but there are some memories. Like any relationship, we’ve had our good times too.. even though most of our moments together were either weird or just plain awkward and bad. This was someone I cared deeply about. Cutting off a bond with someone is not an easy thing to do, but when it comes to your own mental health.. you gotta do what you gotta do. If you’re someone who finds cutting ties easy.. Yikes!

Now that I’m a bit older, and especially after going through my experiences with My Toxic Husband, I’ve learned that sometimes you need to let your brain take control. If you let your heart run around making rampant decisions, it might turn out OK, but most of the time, you’re just hurting yourself.

Out With the Old, In With the New

I’ve always been a relationship girl. It’s kind of a huge issue. For the past decade, I’ve been in back-to-back long-term relationships. Most of them were good but boring, while a few were straight up toxic love kind of romances. I had about one or two well-balanced relationships where we could have gotten married, but I dipped when things started to stagnate. Since my freshman year college, the longest I’ve been single was for 3 months.

It’s almost like it’s impossible for me to be truly alone. Anyone who knows we well enough knows this all too well. With that being said, no one was really surprised that by the time I moved back to SF after being “single” for a month and a half, I was already talking to two dudes.

One dude was Officer Cheddar, and the other dude was Ronny. For the past couple weeks, I had already been chatting with Ronny almost everyday. He kept saying things like how we should meet up now that I’m finally back in town. Honestly, I wanted to because I liked him.. but for more obvious reasons, I mostly didn’t want to. I mentioned this several times already, but dude has a girlfriend. I don’t ever take these kind of guys seriously because a) grow a pair of balls and either fix your relationship or break up, and b) if he can do it to her, he can do it to another girl.

During this point in my “healing process” (Related Post: Moving on the Unhealthy Way), I was a big fan of “dispersing my love.” This is a technique that emotionally unavailable people do while they’re dating to guard their heart. If you put all your love into one person, you’re bound to get your heart broken. However, if you put a little bit of love into multiple people, the pain of heartbreak and rejection isn’t so bad.

So here I was.. dispersing my love between two guys. After texting Officer Cheddar back, we ended up chatting throughout the day. Our conversation started off innocently enough, but I think we were both in a place where we weren’t looking for anything serious at all. Not only was Officer Cheddar in the middle of a divorce, he also had two kids. Ahem. I’ve never dated a cop, a divorcee, or a father. I was in unfamiliar territory here.

The fascination of possibly going on a date with a cop kept me occupied for most of the night. I was so obsessed that I spent an embarrassing amount of hours Googling shit like, “What is it like to date a cop?” or “Dating a divorced father of two” or “Personality of a police officer” or “Are police officers jerks to date?” or “Sex with a cop.” If you were to look that shit up on Google right now, trust me when I say that I’ve read through all the top search articles. The thirst was real.

Officer Cheddar was a bold and direct guy though. He asked if I had a problem with tattoos, and I said nope. Shortly after this exchange, I found out he was almost completely tatted. Yummy. Tattoos on both arms, his chest, back, leg. Woof! This was gonna be fun. Perhaps I was caught up in the haze or missing attention, but it consumed me for a few days. I didn’t want to do anything! All I wanted to do was flirt with cop guy all the time. We planned a date for two nights later. Cheddar said he was going to handle everything and get reservations — all I had to do was to look beautiful, relax, and bring myself. I liked that. A man who could step up and not have me worry.

I was honest with Ronny and told him that Cop guy asked me out. Ronny’s jealous monster personality reared its ugly head after that, which was annoying. It was alright that he got jealous.. I mean, it’s a normal reaction if you like someone, and they start showing interest in someone else. What was NOT normal was when Ronny started saying things like, “Promise me you won’t sleep with him before you see me” or “Are you seriously already going to bang this dude this fast?”

First of all. Cut the crap. You have a girlfriend, and you have no claim over me, what I choose to do with my body, or how I handle my life. I’ve been in a fucking controlling and unhealthy relationship and shitty three-month marriage with the ultimate fuck boy already. There’s no way I was going anywhere near that territory ever again. I was having fun, so let me have fun if you really “care”. What was his story? Am I to assume that Ronny wasn’t having sex with his girlfriend? Geez. He was beginning to irritate me.

Even though he was “there” for me during my struggle times the past couple weeks by giving me some valuable life advice, he still had NO RIGHT to tell me what to do just because he felt like he needed to see me first. Hypocrite. He sure as hell better not judge me or ANY OTHER WOMEN for who they choose to have sex with. I can’t deal with these misogynistic men.

Meanwhile, I was actually starting to get pretty attached to Cop guy when in fact, I barely even knew him. There were a few reasons.. a) I liked the novelty of flirting with a cop, b) I liked that he was an alpha male while still being a gentleman, c) he was helping me handle my police escort case with my ex (Related Post: The Story of My Toxic Husband), and d) believe it or not, I was attracted to him because he was divorced.

One thing about being in a state of limbo with my ex was that I didn’t really know what term to identify myself with. I was technically not single. Technically not married either. I guess separated, but not legally. I was ashamed of my relationship with him, and Officer Cheddar was the only guy who knew about my divorce process and understood the struggle.

I think I’m going to try to cut Ronny loose though. I ain’t got time to deal with petty arguments and drama from grown ass men anymore. It was time for me to listen to Officer Cheddar’s advice.. “look beautiful, relax, loosen up a little.”

Blah, blah, blah. That’s all for now.

Getting Asked Out By a Cop

I woke up the next day on my friend’s couch, but I had some things to do. I needed to replace my battery ASAP (Related Post: Moving Back to SF and Jump-starting My Car). I also needed to visit the local police station to file a report, and figure out how a police escort would work. A lot of thought went into my decision to contact the police. I didn’t feel safe around my ex, and there was no way I could go in there alone while avoiding his harassment. I also did not want to drag any of my friends into this mess.. I just wanted to safely retrieve my things from my apartment.

After getting my car battery fixed (I also got an oil change), I went to the police station. I waited a little bit in the seating area before going up to speak with Officer Cheddar (in case you didn’t notice, the name is changed). Officer Cheddar was a big guy, and by “big” I mean.. holy bajeeebus he was the jacked bodyguard type. Not my usual lean type, but if I ever needed protection…HELLO Officer Cheddar.

I guess I was dressed pretty nicely that day. Hair was slicked back in a ponytail, I had on a sheer top, colored contacts, skinny jeans and sensible heels. Shrug.

Officer Cheddar was really friendly. I told him that I needed to file a report because someone got into my car and stole some things. He wrote down my information, and he followed me back to my car for an initial inspection. For some reason, as I was walking back towards the door.. I felt like he was staring at my ass.

Like forreal, that’s what I felt!! I hope I wasn’t walking like a turd.

After Officer Cheddar examined my car, he said there was no forced entry, so it’s likely I left my own door open. His keen eye also caught the stains on my dashboard, “Wow, whoever broke into your car poured soda all over it,” he said. “That sucks.”

My response was an uncomfortable, “Oh.. that was my ex” Which led me to continue, “…so, I came here with another issue as well…” He immediately looked up, and gave me a safe space to be open.

I told him that I recently left my husband a month ago, and you know what this weirdo Officer Cheddar did? He said, “I’m just ending my divorce too, high-five!” It was comical, but a bit insensitive.. but since I needed a bit of laughter in my life, I awkwardly high-fived him and averted eye contact. So fucking weird.

I was asking him for more information about a police standby, while he started initiating idle chit-chat about my personal life. Not gonna lie, I loved the attention. I’ve been to a police station before, and the officers there did not give me this treatment. He told me he needed to re-write my paperwork, and we went back inside the police station.

Officer Cheddar was extremely good at multitasking. He was thorough and took his sweet ass time going over my case, while interweaving questions about my personal life. Getting to know me. “Where are you from? Are you a sports fan? Your ex was a model? You guys would have had good looking children. Are you Chinese?” Dude was flirting for sure. A girl knows this stuff!

After he finished all my paperwork, he told me that I actually went to the wrong station. Since I was in a different district, he couldn’t personally handle my case, but he was going to fax my paperwork over to the correct place. He went back outside to examine my car again (he didn’t need to do this), and he stood nearby to chat for a little bit before going back inside the station.

While I was sitting in my car, I was texted Josie to see if we could meet for an early dinner and do some errands. She replied, “Haiilll ya.”

While GPSing directions to Union Square, I spotted Officer Cheddar coming back from the corner of my eye. Did he forget to tell me something? I opened my door a bit, and he said in a very businesslike manner, “If you have anymore questions, you can actually reach me on my cell phone.. do you have a pen?” Surprised and a bit flustered, I rummaged through my mess of a car for a pen, but to no avail. I shrugged and just grabbed my cell phone and plugged his number in. I asked what his first name was. It was Jerry. He was officially on my contacts list as “Jerry Popo” because well.. he’s a cop.

He went back, and I sat in my car for another couple minutes debating whether or not I should text him. This had never happened to me before, and I was kind of in love with the novelty. I still had a shitload of personal stuff to do like moving out of my ex’s place, preparing for my interview, and figuring out what to do about my hot mess of a life. But I welcomed the distraction, so I caved and texted him, “Hey Officer Cheddar! It was nice to meet you, thanks for your help.” This shit was too intriguing not to follow-up on.

I started driving to meet Josie for dinner. By the time I parked and arrived at the restaurant, I checked my phone. One new text message.

Officer Cheddar: No problem. You’re very pretty.

Just like that we started chatting from there. Bom chicka wowowowowoww. Homegirl just scored herself a cop. A low-key unprofessional cop, but he was hot, and my fascination was piqued.


Moving Back to SF and Jump-starting My Car

After a couple months of living with my family back in *hometown, I felt like I was finally ready to move back to San Francisco. After all, I needed to move out of my old apartment with my ex, and I also needed to be in the city to look for a full-time job. I was finally in a place where I felt emotionally strong enough to face my ex (Related Post: Moving on the Unhealthy Way), and I was ready to build myself up again.

When I moved back to SF, I immediately met up with one of my best friends Josie, and caught her up on all my boy drama. I was excited to share my interest in Ronny (Related Post: Falling for an Unavailable Guy While Still being Married), and she shared her guy troubles as well. We went on a mission to retrieve my car, which was parked in my apartment’s garage. We were supposed to *quickly* retrieve my car, so I would be able to drive myself around.

However, when we got there.. I noticed the driver’s door was slightly ajar, and my coin bag along with some petty cash — stolen. As added icing to this terrible cake, my car’s battery was also dead. Completely dead.

Me and Josie freaked out. The whole point of this whole drop off was so I could grab my car and skedaddle the fudge out of my garage before my ex showed up. To this day, I have no idea what the full story was behind my car. My ex has a history of picking locks and breaking into places. Did he break in and purposely kill the battery so that I had no where to go? Was I in such a state of emotional turmoil before I moved back home that I left the doors unlocked? Anyways, there was no time to wonder. We needed to fix this problem and get out of there.

I texted Ronny  to see what I could do. No use. He was trying to help, but how can a guy with a girlfriend have time to help me anyways? Was he supposed to come meet me? Nope. Not possible. Word of advice? Don’t get involved with dudes with girlfriends.

Me and Josie were racking our heads trying to figure out how to do this. The person who really saved the day was my sister. She sent me a YouTube video on “How to open the manual release of my car” and it was such a lifesaver! I learned that even though my car battery was completely dead, I could still manually put the car into neutral, and pop the release out with something knife-like. Once that happened, I could push the car out so that Josie could jump my battery. Oh yeah, did I mention that Josie keeps jump cables in her car? Pretty damn awesome.

Since we didn’t have anything that resembled a knife, we decided to improvise and use the back of an earring (props to being girls!!!!) I jiggled open the release, and we did it! Take THAT dead battery. After successfully jumping my car (after a few hours), I went back to another friend’s place to get some rest.



Even though the day didn’t turn out as planned, I felt one step closer to fixing my life.

This was my checklist:

  • Get car, replace battery
  • File a police report at the station
  • Request a police escort to get things from apartment
  • Move everything out of old apartment into new place
  • Figure out a plan for rescuing my dog from ex
  • Figure out a plan for getting a marriage annulment
  • End contract with immigration lawyer for ex’s greencard
  • Get a full-time job
  • Change health insurance

OK, so I didn’t really do ANYTHING on this list except for “Get car” but I still felt better. I felt a sense of accomplishment for being able to jump-start and push my car without the help of a man. I was tired of being the damsel in distress–that shit was not for me.

There are clearly so many things in my life that I could stress over, but I wanted to focus on the positives. I was so lucky to have Josie and my sister helping me. I was thankful to my other girlfriend for letting me stay on her couch for a couple weeks. I was grateful that another friend of mine let me take over her bedroom since she was moving out. I can pretend that I’m so independent and I don’t need anyone, but that’s not true. At the end of the day, all I needed were my friends and family. Although my car needed some hardcore maintenance done to it, I could still make it work. It was still operable.

In other news, I checked my email, and I had an interview for a pretty big online company. Fingers crossed on that one!