How I Left His Harem and Rediscovered Myself
They don’t wake up planning to hurt, manipulate and cheat. Narcissists are emotionally damaged. But their story is not our responsibility — and reasons are not excuses.
After my text to him, I shut my phone off to hide. My life felt suddenly over. “This is good for you”, I reasoned aloud. “You did the right thing.” Words I tossed into the ether with the cadence of Carol Brady. I imagined her talking Alice off the orange linoleum ledge after leaving Sam The Butcher. I was alone in my apartment — heartbroken but safe — wrapped in Colgate and coffee-stained terrycloth. My house robe was now a makeshift blanket providing comfort as I sat on the kitchen tile. …
Could A COVID-19 Layoff Be Exactly What You Need?
Empty boxes are like open doors. You need to fill them with your old life before starting anew.
I’ll never forget my nearly 20-year career with a company I love so much. Our parting ways felt more like an amputation; neither one of us wanted it but for the survival of a bigger picture, it had to be done. As a result of the global pandemic, I’m simply the latest employee casualty— another layoff; another brick in the COVID-19 wall that’s been chipping into the rubble around the globe.
Since being on lockdown in March and working from home I’ve missed seeing my work family in the office. But now, after receiving an empty box (pictured above) from my employer to return my office equipment, the grief of being let go has crystalized. …
If you ask this question, read on.
I was told in conversation that ‘Only losers quit’. This struck me as hostile and had I wished to unpack the statement, I’m certain there’d be a story.
I decided to smile and change the subject.
I respected their beliefs but wasn’t on board. With respect, sometimes there is silence. Keeping our personal thoughts to ourselves is the kind thing to do when no positive outcomes are on deck.
Quitting (or, Letting Go) a romance, job, hobby, personal or professional goal, after a valiant effort illustrates immense confidence, humility, and courage in being honest with ourselves. …
2020 has been hijacked by a global pandemic and our mental health is at stake (in addition to our lives). As of today, there is no cure for COVID-19. Most of the world has been on lock down for portions of or most of the year. Millions have lost their jobs (including myself after nearly a twenty-year career). I could go on, but why? These statistics are tattooed in our psyche like poisonous venom we can’t piss away. Hilarious, right? Not even a little bit.
So, what’s the ransom for our health and freedom? Following orders suggested by the World Health Organization and legit doctors and scientists while trying not to lose our minds in the process? Living a life of normalcy again — if this is even possible? Sounds great but also bleakly familiar — with so many of this country still not doing its part — resulting in minuscule progress compared to the rest of the world. …
As the fourth and final song faded, the DJ in our club at the north end of Waikiki kept the crowd pumped for another set of nude women on stage under the flashing black lights. These men were mostly military dudes who were barely legal (21) to drink alcohol on the island, on their way to or coming from Desert Storm.
I collected my money and made my way off the center stage. The balls of my feet were throbbing and I couldn’t wait to release my toes. Beads of sweat tickled the small of my back and my cocaine-fueled heart was thumping inside my chest. …
May 2020 marks the 3rd Anniversary of Cornell’s death. This was, is and will always be my love-letter to his family and musicians/music lover’s everywhere.
My wheels crawled along the asphalt and I breathed in the afternoon sky. Brushstrokes of cotton candy melting with fireside abstracts served my daily commute home from work well. How could I possibly mind rush hour when my drive literally reminds me to appreciate the view? Time pushed as traffic crept along the California coastline and so did I. My thoughts swirled around nothing and everything as my eyes took deliberate turns between sky and road. …
The first time I heard Madonna sing she was telling me to get up and do my thing. I was 14 and dancing with Mitch Ruben, one of my many high school crushes. We were barefoot, dancing on the grass in the backyard of Lori Morgan’s house. I couldn’t make eye contact so I just swayed to Madonna’s “Everybody,” looking at the clouds, the grass, the sky, my feet. My mouth closed, I traced my braces with the tip of my tongue underneath my upper lip, snapping my fingers and feeling alive. …
The rabbit hole of truth. It seduces me with promises of knowledge. It haunts me when I cannot look away.
It is raw.
It is ugly.
The agony weighs me down until my tears lift the cloak of despair.
My tears have been born from heartache with too much consumption: social media hashtags of racism and hate.
Call it shock.
Disbelief that human beings can be filled with such hate. My addictive brain feeds off the toxic wheel of on-line information. It’s hard to walk away.
After another day of immense pain, I have a talk with my heart. Channeling wise souls who’ve helped guide me to where I am today after a lifetime of struggle. …