Reclaiming Myself

"All [you] ever do is let me down."

One tear-filled night at the end of 2023, I angrily scribbled these words on a random scrap of paper:

People had been telling me over the year to be careful of how much of myself I gave to you. Looking back, every 'helpful' comment, every subtle stab (I know the term is jab, but stab is more accurate), every time I chose you over me, every minute around you was another step into the mirage you called friendship.

It wasn't until tonight I figured it out, this is the desert and you've been draining out all the good, eager to leave me to die all alone.

I hate I allowed it to get to this point, where I'm crying over the pain you caused and the guilt of how long I let this toxicity seep into my life. Mom tells me to not beat myself up; sometimes we have rose-colored glasses on and it takes something like what happened today to rip them off. All I can do is leave, learn from this, and grow.

So I'm done with you and the person you tried to make me into.

Right now, I'm taking the real me back.

And that's what I did.

"I could finally breathe...I think I am finally clean."

I didn't do it alone; something like this can't be done by yourself. It took my family and finding friends who really love me to help out get here on the other side, and the journey's not over.

Oh, them and music. (That is why we're all here right?)

Music has always been an essential part of my life, a constant friend walking alongside me to celebrate, strengthen, and comfort me through everything. This year wasn't any different with countless playlists, accompany me for the rollercoaster ride of emotions along this journey.

"[I was] up-and-down and barely made it over, but I'd go back and ride that rollercoaster."

Losing the toxic weight

"I lost a hundred seventy-five pounds...it was easier than they made it sound..."

I wish I could say it was as easy as Wé Ani talked about during the song.

There's a big difference between knowing something or someone is bad for you and dealing with it. When you finally cut them out, people don't always warn you how much you have to adjust to the loss.

And depending on what went down, that adjustment period comes with a lot of anger.

I keep screaming lyrics at your ghost, so I can purge some of this red-hot anger running through me. I could just scream at you, you're not dead, but really, that won't solve anything, just like talking to you didn't solve anything.

So I guess I'm going to blare Happier Than Ever in the car again today.

"You ruined everything good, always said you were misunderstood, made all my moments your own, just [go on and] leave me alone"

Thankfully, in time, the anger subsided.

But as anyone who has tried to lose weight knows, sometimes, you fall into old habits, gaining back the pounds you worked so hard to lose.

"It was so nice being friends again. There I was, giving you a second chance."

This time, I went in with eyes open. When it was obvious things weren't going to be different, I followed Taylor's example, and "took an axe to [the] mended fence," and spent time around those I consider real friends.

After the final cutting off, it felt like a freedom I hadn't known in a long time and while I still interact with them (we run in similar circles), it is limited to cordial conversations.

"I feel so much lighter like a feather with you out my life."

They aren't worth leaving on read

"Love that you like to assume I'd waste a single second on you, but I've got better people to leave on read."

Setting boundaries has never come easy to me. Saying no to someone, especially if I loved them, is occasionally the hardest thing I can ever say to them. However, it was obvious I needed to learn to do so or else I was going to keep getting hurt, even if I became the villain.

When I was a kid, I always thought being selfish was a villain's trait.

But I would never call Captain America a villain, even as I watched him leave behind his friends, including his childhood best friend, to go and finally live the life he never had. Yeah, one might call him selfish, but didn't he deserve to give something to himself after everything he done for others?

Don't I deserve to care about myself a little more, even if I become the villain in doing so?

If setting boundaries means being one, so be it.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but you gon' make a villain outta me."

Part of that care included what was going on in my mind; was I really moving on if I was thinking about what they were doing all the time? At a certain point I had to forget about caring about them so intensely so I forgot to care at all, not because I hated, but because they weren't all the extra mental stress.

"I forgot that you existed. It isn't love, it isn't hate, it's just indifference."

So what did I do with all that extra space in my head? I spent time relearning myself, who I was without someone whispering manipulations into my ear. A peace trinkled in, and like I am of my family and friends, I became protective of it, determined to never let anyone come in and take it.

"DND. DND. Don't mess with my vibe, don't mess with my peace."

What makes ME happy?

Part of relearning myself meant figuring out and doing things that made me happy, the kind of happy that made me feel like I could float away to, well, I'll let Pharrell tell you.

"I'm a hot air balloon that could go to space, with the air, like I don't care, baby, by the way."

Something I learned, or more was reminded, was as much as I loved to interact and spend time with people, I loved to stay home. Not only could completely relax, I could allow myself to disappear into worlds unknown as I curled up on the couch with drinks, snacks, and my Kindle.

"I wanted books that'd keep me up all night...forgive me if I'd rather stay in my own little universe."

Another activity I fell back in love and found happiness in was dancing. I'm not trained nor would I want to be, but I've always loved how the body can show a person's interpretation of the music in such gorgeous performances. I hope someday, I'll feel comfortable enough to do some dancing in public, but right now I am happy to keep it to the privacy of my home.

"I feel like dancing, I feel like dancing."

And of course, I can't forget about writing.

"In isolation my imagination has run wild and this album [folklore] is the result, a collection of songs and stories that flowed like a stream of consciousness. Picking up a pen was my way of escaping into fantasy, history, and memory. I’ve told these stories to the best of my ability with all the love, wonder, and whimsy they deserve. Now it’s up to you to pass them down." - Taylor Swift

I saw this post recently and thought about where I was in my writing during isolation. Writing back then was more about purging my feelings so they didn't overwhelm me. It took time for things to shift from a sense of desperation to truly just enjoying writing, having it be something I wanted to do because it made me happy.

"Rebekah rode up on the afternoon train, it was sunny. Her saltbox house on the coast took her mind off St. Louis..."

I'm enough

If I was going to choose any song to best describe my year, it would be this one:

"Buried myself into somebody else, shut out some parts of me, did it so casually...I lived my life without me, I never allowed me to."

Like Kelly (except it was a friend, not a lover), I gave so much of myself for them, living my life more for them then for me. Now, I know I deserved so much better than that, and the real me is enough. If people couldn't appreciate and love me, it was better to live my life with no one than with a hundred people who keep trying to change me.

And that included my body.

It wasn't like not loving my body was a new thing for me before I met you. When the thought came for the first time, it was like an unwelcome guest coming, tearing up the house, laughing as I just watched from the corner. They would leave eventually, but until then I had to wait it out.

But it never left until I left you.

Looking back, being critical of my body seemed like a rule. You only told me I looked great when you started it off with "you've lost weight." When I said I wasn't thrilled with my body, you would toss out a "you're perfect," and "I should be ashamed for thinking such things."

You may have never outright said "you're overweight" but it was hidden in between the lines.

I still struggle, and probably always will, but I have more days where I love and appreciate my body. The days I don't, I'm not worried that my family and friends are going to be extra negative voices to join mine. That is something I've gained back this year, taking back how I view my body.

"I got a belly and I got a bum, but I can't be jelly of all the other ones, so I'm falling in love with my rump-ump-ump-um."

Most importantly, bit by bit, I've spent the year reclaiming my power and confidence, and I can't wait to see what I'm able to do with it in the future.

"You should you see me in a crown. Your silence is my favorite sound."

And the biggest lesson I've learned this year?

No matter what I do, people are going to say something about me and what I should do, regardless of anything I do (or don't do). So why should I care so much and let them dictate what kind of person I want to be?

Really, they should just take me as I am.

"I know the part I've played before.

I know the [stuff] that I've ignored.

I know the girl that you adored,

she's dead, it's time to [go and] mourn.

I can't spoon-feed you anymore,

I can't spoon-feed you anymore.

Dinner's served, it's on the floor,

I can't spoon-feed you anymore.

You'll have to eat me as I am!

You'll have to eat me as I am!"

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Below is the full Reclaiming Me playlist on Youtube. In order to access the full playlist, click on icon next to the title at the top of the video display. Enjoy!