LETTING GO

Loving Yourself

Finally we’re done begging for a seat at a broken down table.
PUH-LEASE.

It’s been, well… just about 20 days since I’ve updated you all.
Life just—LIFE’S.

I usually say I don’t know where to begin, because it’s true, but this time I’ll just let it flow. I’ve been grinding like nobody’s business. This is the first time in my life I have ever done anything for myself like this.

I mean, for fuck’s sake, y’all—I literally do not work, but instead of 7 AM, I now sometimes rise at 6 AM to start my morning stretch, walk the dog, get my coffee, and update the world on my emotional state of mind. If it’s not that, it’s writing. ALL DAY.

I’m in filmmaking mode 24/7. Whether I am subconsciously thinking of it or not—it’s happening.

I went to see ANACONDA and OH MY FUCKING GODDESS.

It was the best date that I have ever had in my entire life.

My abusive past never allowed me to experience the joy that I felt that day.

Before the movies, we went to eat, which alone was a whole ordeal. I pigged the fuck out and got shrimp broccoli Alfredo and a sangria. The sangria was shit. The pasta was mid. Did I care? NOPE. High as a giraffe’s punani, man.

I took a 100mg edible before we got there, thinking no goddamn 100mg edible was gonna put me off my rockers. I smoke day in and day out. I GOT THIS.

NAH.
It got me.

I’m pretty sure I ate until the inside seams of my pants were slightly bursting. Don’t act like you have never done the same!

After that, we went to this dispensary and got us some more goodies for later, and it was dope as shit because, lo and behold, the movie theaters were right beside them!

I quickly took note of what a clever business move that was. Marijuana and the fucking movies?! WHO WOULDN’T?!?!

I excitedly pulled into a spot closest to the main entrance and leaped out.

At this point, I’m smiling cheek to cheek, wind blowing. We get inside and immediately the smell of fresh, oily, buttery popcorn hits my nostrils.

“GOOOOOODDDDAMMMMNNN IT! THAT SHIT SMELLS GOOD.”
I think to myself as I take in everything around me.

There’s not too many people in line, and I’m ready to get my bucket!

As I go to step in line, my boyfriend asks me if I want to get anything—pointing to a shelf with stuffed animals on it. I immediately waltz over and grab the last smiling little Patrick off the shelf.

Hugging him to my chest, the little girl inside me screamed.

We feel seen.
We feel loved.
That’s all I wanted.

The line moves, and so do I. Still scanning the room, I start to notice the people in front of me all have little blankets. It quickly dawned on me that we reserved “cuddle seats” and you could bring your own blanket into the theater!

I was over the frickin’ moon.

“Look! You can bring your own blankets! Omg, that’s so cute!” I exclaim to my smiling boyfriend.

He notices a shelf and points to it. There were little cuddling blankets you could buy. Of course, I immediately grabbed one.

So there I was—Patrick in one hand, my new cuddle blanket in the other.

Falling.

Falling in love with life, with this experience, with myself.

And it was beautiful.

When you experience pain and hurt consistently, it’s hard to trust. It’s hard to feel safe, to feel heard, to feel loved. The kind of things I was healing from—this felt like the world.

I felt sure. Safe. Grounded. I was finally living.

So the line moved forward. We got our popcorn, paid for Patrick and our blanket, and headed to our reserved seats.

The last time I went to the movies, I was 23 years old. I am 36.

I know—that shit sounds insane. But being captive to a cycle of abuse does that. You don’t go anywhere. You don’t do anything. You don’t even really live. You just… are.

It’s no way for anyone to live. I’m so blessed. Truly.

When I was younger and did go to the theater, I always loved the back of the movie theater. I’m not sure why—I just did.

This time, I switched it up.

I did things differently and got dead front middle.

It was quite an experience.

The cuddle chair was like little cuddle couches. You could put your feet up. They have armrests. Cup holders. It was plush and comfortable— so comfortable that the woman beside my boyfriend kept falling asleep.

Also, the chairs were spaced nicely, so you felt private.

The fact that you could order food from where you were sitting? Even more of a plus.

The whole experience was just A1.

The movie itself was absolutely HILARIOUS.

I told myself: watch as a fan first, director second. At this point, it’s hard not to turn off filmmaking or directing in my head altogether. No wonder I’m so fucking dreamy. Us entertainers always are.

I know this was a bit lengthy, but it all remains true. It’s just part of who I am.

I am dreamy.

I do appreciate the tiny things—the little details that people overlook every day or take for granted. We’re not even promised that, so why would you dismiss it as nothing? As minuscule?

Everything has a part to play, whether you think it’s major or small.

I’m really proud of myself lately—for the growth that I have shown myself. The compassion. The strength. The kindness.

I deserve it.

I have allowed too many people to think that certain behaviors are okay. That I will shrink to keep others beside me.

No longer.
I will not.

Those days are gone, and brighter ones lie ahead of me.

I sit a proud woman, able to say NO when my heart says so. I do not owe you an explanation. You do not need to understand why—anything beyond “no” is a courtesy.

So many people misalign and cannot comprehend the true meaning of loving self. We fill ourselves with the things we think we will miss— the things we think are tied to our identity—yet miss the fact that we need nothing to understand who we are.

The understanding lies within.

Within life’s experiences, both good and bad.

When we understand that, we can truly embrace the little joys of life.

I sometimes forget the things I have been through because of where I am now. I think for the first time, it’s not necessarily forgetting—it’s resting.

I am now at a place in my life where I can set aside the things that are no longer meant for me. People. Places. All of it.

This year already brought situations that were a bit hard. Hard—but necessary.

I am grateful to myself for my strength, for my love, for my endurance.

I’d like to end this saying one thing:

You have more than you think you do. You have everything you need to be exactly where you want to be.

I love you,

Nëbbië