Don't cry over spilled milk... or Canadian boys

So, you want to know my most cringe worthy, palms sweaty, irrevocably unforgettable embarrassing moments, eh? Well let me tell you right off jump, I have a lot of them. In fact, my entire life has seemingly been one embarrassing story after another.

My earliest memory of embarrassment was around the age of 6 when I was at the mom-and-pop grocery store in my hometown, spinning around in circles with a gallon of milk in my hand. Of course it wasn’t long before that gallon of milk went flying out of my grip and into the glass case, only to bounce off and split in half on the floor, milk flying everywhere. My mom came around the corner with a GASP! I immediately started crying, and the store owner wasn’t thrilled.

Fast forward a decade, and I’m sitting near the edge of the balcony that overlooked the High School volleyball court, filming the game from the top floor. I was a Junior Varsity player, and the Varsity coach gave me the responsibility of filming their game with only one rule: No drinks in the weight room. At the age of 16, I was a rebel. So, I brought a large Coca-Cola in a paper cup up to the balcony with me, thinking that I would be careful not to spill. So, what happened? I somehow managed to knock my drink OFF of the balcony during the game, and I watched it fall for what felt like eternity. It smashed on the ground and the whole room looked up at me in shock. I ducked behind the railing and covered my mouth as to not let out a squeal. I slowly turned around and peaked over the ledge to see coach making his way to the staircase. The game had to completely stop until the mess was cleaned up, and I was mortified.

So yes, my life has been a series of unfortunate events, like the time I peed my pants in basketball practice. However, none of these stories come anywhere near the one I am about to share with you. The story I am about to share is a not-so-love story that shattered my reality and left me in pieces, utterly embarrassed at my core. However, it is the very story that has made me who I am today, and for that, I have no regrets.

It was the summer of 2016, when I was invited to volunteer at a festival in California called Northern Nights. I ended up taking on a lead position, organizing the Grove camping and checking in the groups of campers who had reserved a spot in the Redwoods. It was Friday evening, and the Grove was getting full, as we had been checking campers in all day long. I was looking down at my map, making note of how many sites were left, when I heard a voice say, “Excuse me, do you have any camping sites left?”

I looked up and my heart literally skipped a beat. I almost felt the wind get knocked out of me. A moment in time stood still as I locked eyes with the most beautiful man I had ever seen. Like, if I could have taken all of the photos of boys on my wall as a teenager, (ie. Heath Ledger, Chad Michael Murray, Freddy Prince Jr.) and put them all into one Canadian, it was him.

I looked back down at my clipboard and played it cool, as if I hadn’t just laid my eyes upon a God.

“We actually do have some space left, right in this area.” I pointed to the corner of the Grove, which was right in front of me. “How big is your group?”

From there, I got him and his friends set up, and then went back to doing my job, fully aware that something had just shifted in my life. It was love at first sight.

Or at least, thats what I thought.

Throughout the weekend, I had a few other interactions with him. At one point, I filmed a video of him and his friends pushing an enormous beach ball up the side of the mountain along the riverbend, where the party people were floating in giant swans and flamingos. I was sitting on the shore watching and filming, waiting for the ball to drop and bounce in the water. I could see the humorous effect they were going for. Unfortunately, their plan went flat as the beach ball rolled down the mountainside, only to stop dead in the water upon landing. Nothing cool or dramatic about it. Not a lot of people laughed like I did, but I caught it on camera for my YouTube vlog so I found it to be hysterical, and the perfect reason to ask for the cute guys contact info.

(I was moving from blogging into vlogging this summer, and this is the first festival video I ever made. My skills have improved drastically. lol)

Our interactions were few and far between, and I didn’t see him before he left, but we became Facebook friends and that was good enough for me. Of course, I was very curious about this mystery person when I got home, so I asked if he had plans to attend any other festivals that summer. It turned out he was going to a festival that I had been considering volunteering at called Summer Meltdown. I emailed the director of the festival to see if they still needed volunteers and she assigned me a position. I guess it was meant to be! I was stoked.

Still playing it cool, (like I was really only there to volunteer when truthfully, I just wanted to see him again), I arrived to the festival and got settled in. I was checking people in at the box office all day until my shift was over, and then I went to the river with my phone to record some videos. It was my first summer blogging about my festival adventures, so I was quite satisfied just being there in my element, taking photos and being creative. At this point, cute guy was just an added bonus to the experience as I connected with nature and my surroundings, but the curiosity and anticipation ensued.

The sun was going down and I hadn’t seen him around yet. I questioned if maybe his plans had changed, but Grammatik was about to play so I didn’t have time to wait around wondering. I made my way down to the main stage as the set started and I was getting lost in the music, when for a moment I turned around and there he was, standing right behind me.

“Hey!” I let out with a big smile.

“Oh hey! We just got here!”

He and three friends had to get off work before they could come, and they had some crazy adventure story about getting in with the gates closed. Regardless, they had made it, and we all danced through the set and had fun. When Grammatik finished performing, we walked away from the stage and started talking.

“We haven’t set up our tents yet. When did you get here? Are you here by yourself?”

“Yeah I came alone. I’m volunteering, I got here yesterday and was working the box office.”

“Oh cool, well you should definitely hang out with us then.”

I spent the rest of the weekend in a mixture of swoon, and my own creative flow. The feelings I was experiencing were intense. I felt like I had known this guy my entire life… but I didn’t really think he felt the same way. He was attracted to me, clearly, or he wouldn’t have pulled me in for a kiss later that night during Michael Menert. Maybe it was the drugs, or maybe it was the endorphins, but whatever it was, the chemistry was there. As the weekend progressed, we spent time hanging out and got to know each other. Things moved fast (for me), and we had super sweaty sex in my tent. Looking back, I can see how disconnected we actually were, and how one-sided the energy exchange was, but at the time, I felt like I was in love.

He acted like he wanted to get to know me. He asked, “When will I see you again?” Vancouver to Portland was only 6 hours, which in my world was nothing. I was frequently in Seattle for work, which is the halfway point between where we both lived, so I thought it was actually realistic. I thought he was actually for real.

I should have known he didn’t mean it when he asked for his flannel back. The one I had been wearing all weekend, looking cute and staying warm in. If he had truly wanted to see me again, he would have told me to keep the flannel, for he would be seeing me again.

But he didn’t.

I rationalized this action by acknowledging that it was his favorite flannel, and I had no real reason to keep it anyway. He wasn’t my boyfriend or anything, and even if he were, it was his. Looking back, it was the most obvious of many signs that I was being played.

It doesn’t end there, though sometimes I really wish it had.

I drove away from the festival and called my mom. She could tell in my voice that something was up. “Did you meet a cute boy?” she asked.

“Mom, I met God.”

She laughed, and I cried. I was overcome with emotions. I felt something so deep that it truly felt like the holy spirit was talking to me. I felt like I had just met my twin flame. My previous boyfriend introduced me to the concept of a twin flame, because he asked me if I thought he was mine. Upon doing some research, I didn’t feel it was true for us. But when I met Canadian boy, I thought it was true. I felt like he was the one for me, and that I would patiently wait for him to see it too.

When I got back to my house in Portland, I told my roommates what had happened. They both looked at me like I was crazy, and they had their suspicions.

“Katie, you can’t be in love with someone after one weekend. It takes time to get to know a person.”

My soul was screaming at them, “yes huh!”

Actually, it was my inner child having her first real crush all over again. I felt like a little girl, all giddy on the inside and excited about the possibilities of the future. Meanwhile, guy had not sent one text, snapchat, dm, or phone call since I had left the festival.

Here’s where it starts to get bad.

My mind began to piece together the future we could have together. He told me that he makes music, so I looked up his Soundcloud and started to imagine us on stage together. One of the reasons why I felt so deeply towards him was that during one of our early morning tent conversations, he mentioned that he had a good singing voice, and I said I could imagine that would be true based on the softness of his tone. I told him that I had a lot of talents, but singing wasn’t one of them. Even though I had dreamed of being on stage and would have loved to have a good singing voice, I didn’t think I would ever be good enough to be on stage like that. Then he said something that completely changed my life in just a few simple worlds.

“I bet you do, you’re just in your head.”

I was putting on my shoes at the time, and I stopped dead in my lace-tying tracks.

I bet you do, you’re just in your head.

My mind repeated the message.

“Wow, thank you for saying that. You’re so right. If you think about it, the throat is really just composed of muscles, which can be exercised and strengthened… and I do believe in the miraculous mechanics of the human body… so of course I can learn to sing. How could I have ever doubted myself?”

I was astonished. It was in that very moment that I went from feeling hopeless about something I dreamed of, to feeling empowered and certain that I could become anything I wanted to be. It was such a profound moment that again, I thought I was in love.

Fast forward 6 months. At this point we have had 3 phone conversations, all initiated by me, and none of them were very deep or long-lasting. I learned a few basic things about him, like that he had an herb garden on the balcony of his apartment, and that he wanted to build self-sustaining communities. Two qualities I found very attractive and desirable in a partner. Though like I said, the conversations were never very personal, and never got very deep. Yet for some reason, my heart was hooked.

I spent my days daydreaming about this fantasy relationship. Sometimes I questioned it, asking myself if I was crazy. I mean, I barely ever heard from the guy, but he followed my Instagram stories and at the time that was good enough for me.

That is until New Years approached.

In December 2016, I was applying to a festival for an art installation I was creating of dream catchers made with crystals and stained-glass feathers. In order to apply, I had to make a sample dreamcatcher, so I decided to make one for the guy and send it to him as a New Years’ gift. In a way, the dreamcatcher was a symbol of my dreams, and depending on his response, I would know for sure if there was something there or not.

I mailed out the dreamcatcher and awaited his response. As the days went by that turned into weeks, I felt my heart begin to crumble. There was no text message, no thank you, no acknowledgement whatsoever. I began to wonder if he ever got it, though I knew deep down, he did. He chose not to respond at all. The door was closed, and I was heartbroken.

Literally, I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces. I was devastated. I cried out to God, “Why did you do this to me? Why did you show me these feelings that have lead me nowhere?!”

I was pissed. Furious! I felt so mislead. There was no way that I felt all of that chemistry and all of those strong feelings over nothing. How could it be so? It just didn’t make any sense.

So what did I do?

I kept believing. I refused to accept the rejection. In my heart, I held him there. I told myself that I would be patient and wait for him to see who I was. I am a very bright, magical being. In fact, it was probably my potent energy that scared him away. All along, I played it cool. I didn’t blow up his phone, I didn’t send him daily Snapchats or DMs… but energetically, I’m sure he felt my attachment. Knowing what I know now about the law of attraction and manifestation, I certainly went about it all wrong. But I was a young mystic then. I had to learn these lessons the hard way to learn who I truly am, and what love truly is (and what it isn’t).

Another six months later and I’m back at Northern Nights. I wondered if I would see him there, but I tried to stay focused on my job and my vlogging. I had to be prepared to see him with a girlfriend, or not see him at all… and it turned out to be not at all. His friends were there, however, and one of them invited me to a campout they were throwing the following month in San Francisco. They said that I should definitely come, and that “the guy” would love to see me.

I was so confused. “What do you mean he would love to see me? He never talks to me.”

“I’m still sure he’d love to see you!” his friend said.

Again, I felt so confused. Why would he even say that? Does he not realize how hard I had been ghosted? I mean, the boy was constantly watching my Instagram stories… so maybe he was interested in me?

I looked at the dates of the campout, and it happened to be right in between my trip to Hawaii and my grandpa’s 90th birthday party in Lodi, and I just so happened to have a layover in San Francisco on that exact weekend. It was divine timing and I believe in signs, so I agreed to go.

Fast forward to a few days prior to the campout. I decided to send him a message on Facebook letting him know that I had been invited, and that I would be there. I had several other friends from Northern Nights going, so it was a welcoming environment for me regardless. He read my message. No response.

I was prepared to see him there with another girl, but I still had deep feelings. I showed up early to help set up, because my flight from Hawaii had landed on Thursday and I had nothing else to do. The anticipation of seeing him again had butterflies in my stomach. I had no idea what to expect. I had bought a necklace at the Oregon Eclipse Festival that I wanted to give him and was hopeful to have the opportunity. It was nightfall on Friday when he showed up, and I saw him again for the first time in a year. Confident, I walked up to him and said hi.

He looked at me and said…

“Oh hey Katie. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

I gave him a blank stare.

“Uhh, yes you did. I sent you a Facebook message and you read it.”

“Oh, um, I’m really busy and sometimes I miss messages.”

I definitely didn’t believe him. All of his friends knew I was coming. There was no way the message hadn’t been relayed. He casually turned toward a friend at his left and started a new conversation. I walked away.

Wow. Just wow. Pretending like he had no idea I was coming? Seriously? As if I hadn’t been rejected enough times already by this guy. What the hell was I holding on to? A complete illusion? Did my heart lie to me this entire time? I felt annoyed, but I wasn’t going to let it ruin my weekend. I brushed it off and spent the rest of the weekend doing my vlogging thing. At one point I heard there was going to be an open mic, so I decided to write a passive aggressive poem to express my feelings. You know what, maybe I would sing a song too. At this point I was grasping at straws to express how I felt. I went up into an empty building while everyone was at the river and started practicing. I was singing my little heart out and taking videos of myself. I was fearless at the time, but from an outside perspective I looked like Michael Scott from the Office when he directed his first movie, and everybody watched with one eye closed.

When I felt prepared, I decided to go down to the river where the boy blatantly avoided me. In fact, he avoided me at all costs all weekend. What I didn’t understand, was why would he spend the last 12 months watching the majority of my Instagram stories, which I posted almost daily, and yet have nothing to say to me in person? Regardless, I made new friends and enjoyed myself, as I ignored the fact that I was being ignored.

Later that night, I decided to get dressed up for my performance. I wore all black, with a high waisted mesh skirt that had sparkly gold stars on it. I’ll admit, I looked witchy. I also felt witchy. One thing about a mystic, is she is often described as a witch. As I made my way to the porta potties, two of his friends, the identical twin brothers who had invited me to the event, were standing there talking. I walked up to them and saw that both bathrooms were occupied.

“Looking very witchy tonight Katie, you out casting spells?” asked brother number one.

“Like the one you cast on (he who must not be named)?" asked borther number two with a smirk.

They both laughed a little bit, and again I felt confused. What were they talking about? Was I casting a spell without realizing it? If I was, it wasn’t working.

“Uhh…”

The porta pottie opened.

“I’m going to use the bathroom.”

I got into the porta pottie, lined the seat with toilet paper, and sat down.

What am I doing here? I thought.

When I stepped back outside the brothers were gone, so I walked over to the stage where the open mic was supposed to happen. A jam band was playing, and I asked someone when the open mic was happening. They weren’t sure, so I just enjoyed the show and recited my poem to myself. I noticed he wasn’t anywhere around. At this point, I didn’t really care. I just wanted to express myself. My palms started to sweat, and I began to wonder if this was really about to happen. About an hour later, I realized the open mic was no longer happening, and that another band was coming on next.

I rolled my eyes and walked away from the stage, annoyed and defeated, and then made my way up the gravel road to the other stage. I decided to ditch my feelings and just embrace where I was in the moment. I ended up having a pretty fun night, and around midnight, the boy was playing a set. His music was good, I danced, I filmed some videos, and after the set I talked to him again, complimenting his music. Every time I talked to him, he would talk about the weather, and how “beautiful it is out here”. The most generic small talk of all time. I mean, hellloooo. We had sex and you told me you wanted to see me again, and now here I am and all you have to say is “it sure is nice out here”?

By this point I was tipsy off of tequila and triggered at myself for being so stupid. I had to step away from the party to get some space, so I started running down the gravel road as fast as I could. Tears started pouring down my face as I ran until I tripped and fell, scraping my knees and my hands. I wanted to scream. What were these feelings!? What the f*ck was going on. I had never felt this way before. I wanted it to stop. For some reason, my feelings were so intense I couldn’t help but feel heartbroken all over again, though it was all my own doing. I felt so confused. My heart felt like it knew something was there, but the reality I was experiencing was the complete opposite of what I felt. I picked myself back up before anyone saw me and limped down to the cabin that I was staying in. I cleaned up my knee, changed into sweat pants, and sat around a fire with some kids I hadn’t met yet. For the rest of the night, I kept to myself and accepted the fact that I had officially been rejected, again.

The next day, everyone packed up to leave. There were busses shuttling people to their cars at a lot a few miles away. I had my bags packed and I was waiting in the pickup zone, when I saw the boy standing near by. I wanted to muster up the courage to address him and tell him how I felt, but when he saw me, he literally ran up the gravel road at full speed, as if he forgot something extremely important. Pretty sure he was just running from me.

Too bad for him, I wasn’t going anywhere. Sitting on my duffle bag waiting for the bus, I knew he had to come back down at some point. Sure enough, about an hour later, he was walking back down the road. He saw that I was still sitting there, so what did he do when he got to the base? He started walking the OTHER direction.

I wasn’t going to let him get away without facing me. So I chased him down until I caught up with him.

“Hey. Can I talk to you for a sec?”

He responded with, “Sure, if you’re walking this way.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“It sure is beautiful out here isn’t it?”

Oh my God, I thought. If I hear that one more time I’m gonna…

“Hey, stop for a second.”

I made him face me.

“Why have you been avoiding me all weekend?” I asked.

“I haven’t been avoiding you, I just have a lot of friends here.”

“But you pretended like you didn’t know I was coming. Why would you tell me that you wanted to see me again if you didn’t mean it?”

“Look, we just live in two different worlds. I work a lot and I don’t really have time for anything outside of my job.”

I reached into my pocket grasping at the necklace I had gotten. The necklace was a representation of a gift made for a King. My king. Which clearly, he wasn’t.

“I-I-I…” I stuttered. “Did you get the dreamcatcher I sent you?”

“Oh, yeah I got it. It’s in my drawer.”

It’s in a drawer? I thought. This is so embarrassing.

My dreams were in a drawer.

“Well, you never said thank you, or anything at all, so I didn’t know if you got it. Anyway, I guess I just wanted to say thank you to you, because what you said about being in my head about my voice really opened my eyes to my true potential, and I am grateful that you said that. It left a really big impact on me.”

Tears began to form and my palms were sweating. He looked at me and brought me in for a hug. I cried for two seconds and then pulled away, wiped my tears, and walked away, not once looking back. It felt like a breakup by someone I never dated.

That was the last time I spoke to him. When I got back to San Francisco, I still felt incomplete, so I wrote him an email expressing how I truly felt. How his words mislead me and how hurt I was. It was somewhat of a love letter and was probably intense for him to read, but I had to let it out. The poor dude. I honestly don't know which story is worse. Mine, or his.

He continued to watch my Instagram stories without saying a word about the letter, which I thought was cowardly. Eventually I blocked him, burned the photo strip we made together, and also burned the journal that I kept at the time that I knew him. It was filled with hopeless romantic prayers and desires that I once had. It took me two years after that last encounter to fully heal from those wounds. However, this experience was the catalyst to my ascension, so there really isn't anything I would change.

Rejection can be hard to accept, but one of the best quotes I ever heard was that, "rejection is actually redirection to a better path", and I really felt that.

The path I have walked since then has been beautiful. I have learned lessons from all of this that couldn't have been learned any other way. I have expanded my capacity to love so infinitely, that now I am living a life that is fully aligned with my highest vibration. I'm sure my story can resonate with millions of people out there who have dealt with rejection of their own. My advice to anyone going through heartbreak, would be to trust that you are being redirected to something more perfect for you.

So on that note, with this article and the Scorpio full moon, I hereby release myself from all past karma, programming, attachments, embarrassing moments, and all future expectations, only to move forward living life that is fully in the now, loving deeply the people who are active in my life, loving myself fully, and living a life that is authentic, free, and expansive.

And so it is.

Fun anecdote:

I was walking down the street near my house recently, when I saw a baseball cap sitting on the side of the road.

Lost hats like lost love stories, I thought to myself.

During that one weekend I spent with the guy, he had lost his hat. So, when I saw this hat on the ground years later, I was reminded of that memory. About two steps later, six feet on the ground past the hat, was not one, but two dozen, dead red roses.

I busted out into laughter. It was like a nail in the coffin. I had already healed and moved on by that point, but it was a funny and much appreciated sign from Spirit that I was truly free, and that he was never meant for me.