Tag: boyfriend

• Drive, Not Reverse

  I’ve been slacking on here. Sorry. It’s been an odd week. I spent it taking care of the dog (my beloved) and seeing friends again. It feels like there’s a distance between me and my friends now. I’m not sure why, but I’m struggling to be more present. It’s also my birthday month, and I’m throwing a party this Sunday with two other birthday girls. Seventy people RSVPed going, so it’s going to be pretty fun.

  Last night at 9:15 PM, my ex-husband emailed me. His car had broken down and he was stuck on an LA highway, and he wanted to know when our dog had last been taken out (I had returned her to him that afternoon). I immediately dropped everything and drove to his place, since he wasn’t there, to take her out and feed her. Immediately. I gave my boyfriend a heads-up, and he got upset, which led to our first “fight”. It was gentle, respectful and kind. It wasn’t really a fight, more a serious conversation, but it was still our first. He felt threatened that I dropped everything to go see the dog the moment my ex needed help. It was also 10 PM. I get it: if the roles were reversed, I’d feel the same way. In the moment, I was so anxious about the dog, who had been alone for almost seven hours, that I ran straight to her without thinking. The problem is the precedent it sets with my ex – that I am still willing to drop everything and help him, via her. But I want to choose this new relationship, and I am so over my ex.

  Oh, and I also put my boyfriend’s car in drive instead of reverse and bumped into the car in front of us. Thankfully, the other car had a tow hitch and wasn’t damaged, but his car was. Not badly, but still.

  I also went to the doctor yesterday for an allergy test. After being poked 47 times, I learned I’m severely allergic to dust mites (great), weeds like pigweed, and cats (a bit). On the bright side, I’ve finally recovered from jet lag, though it took a while. All in all, it was a weird, stressful week:

  1. Dog care and the handoff, which meant a lot more talking with my ex
  2. My first serious conversation with my boyfriend
  3. Guilt over the car and the ex situation
  4. Severe dust mite allergies
  5. Money stress after the EU trip

  What interests me is how I reacted during our serious conversation. I freaked out. I felt cornered and anxious, my heart was racing, and I was boiling with stress. I kept chuckling nervously and had no idea what to say. I couldn’t put into words what I was feeling, and I felt so guilty and bad. Because of that, it felt like I had done something wrong, like I’d cheated on my new boyfriend with my ex. That absolutely never happened, and it never even crossed my mind! But I was so visibly freaked out that he asked whether something might have happened. I immediately chuckled and got defensive, which only made me look guiltier. I couldn’t believe he’d think that, and it made me even more anxious.

  He saw how distressed I was and calmed me down. He asked how I felt, why I might be feeling that way, and what would help ease the urge to flee. I told him I hate conflict and avoid it at all costs (ironic for a lawyer, I know). I saw a new side of him, and he saw a new side of me. I think it made us stronger. This morning he apologized again for feeling stressed, threatened and a little jealous. He’d never shared feelings like that with me during my whole divorce, so it took me aback. I told him not to apologize for having feelings and thanked him for being so open. We both felt a little silly, apologized, and comforted each other last night and again today.

  I still need to work through this. I think because I’m such a people pleaser, and so afraid of causing hurt or starting conflict, I lose my mind when conflict actually happens.

  

  2026.10.02

• On Rest, Agency, and a Beef Bone

  I made zero social plans this past weekend, which is incredibly unlike me. I’m watching the dog right now and chose to stay put all weekend to spend some quality time with her at my lover’s home. Or maybe the jet lag forced me into rest. Either way, I was running around all day Saturday: I caught up on some work, went to a CrossFit class, unpacked my big suitcase, bathed the dog, and washed her bed. I did a million loads of laundry and cleaning. I also ordered her a bunch of cute ocean-themed toys on Amazon, restocked her food and treats, and got her favorite, a beef bone to chew on. On Sunday, I did nothing with my lover. Well, “nothing.” I went to a slow stretch yoga class, got a massage, bought some Italian sandwiches (and made friends with the owner), played video games with my lover, made carbonara together, and we finished watching Atonement. I have no clue why I felt like writing about my weekend today. I guess doing normal, chill things on a weekend has felt so foreign to me that the fact I did it feels like an immense victory.

  I used to cram my time with an incredible amount of social stuff, so much that I barely had time to breathe. It felt like I was running away as fast and as far as I could. Constantly running. My emotions were constantly boiling, so tangled that I couldn’t unravel anything. I had no idea what I felt or why I felt it. I was a kettle, always whistling. The anxiety and stress were extreme and showed up in all kinds of physical symptoms. Ultimately, it all led to a mental breakdown last year.

  Today, out of that relationship, I feel at peace. It feels a little easier to leave the dishes in the sink, to not answer a text right away, to work a little less, and to make room in my daily life for things that calm me, like this blog. (I know, I know, I don’t write every day, but trust me, I’m trying.) I can take some me-time without freaking out about my life. I can rest. I feel relaxed and content. Of course, some existential dread still resurfaces from time to time, and anxiety sometimes creeps in. But no more going to bed with my blood boiling, jaw clenched, and heart racing with anger. No more walking on eggshells. No more making myself so small that I could barely exist. No more shielding myself from his extreme anger and violence, his impatience and unkindness, his darkness. I finally feel entitled to my own existence.

  Now, don’t get me wrong. I still struggle with being alone with my own company. But I’m no longer scared of being alone with my thoughts, and I actually welcome the intrusive, painful feelings. I don’t run from them anymore, though saying I fully and truly embrace them would be a lie. I do think that to love myself, I need to be loved by someone else. It is what it is, and for now, I am content with it.

  I’ve already grieved my past relationship and all the pain that came with it: I listened to podcasts, journaled, and saw a psychologist for three years. All that work, plus the new meds, saved me. It gave me enough strength to leave, to choose myself. And I did all of that alone. I’ve done “the work” (again, whatever that means), so why can’t I keep doing it with a partner by my side? Every self-help book would tell me not to jump into something serious right after a bad relationship with a sour ending. Truth is, I don’t care. I no longer care what anyone or anything thinks I should do with my personal life. I left that relationship because I felt I had no agency. Work is another matter, and I’ll gladly defer to my overlords’ thoughts and decisions. But when it comes to my own life, I’ll make my own decisions, thank you very much. If at some point my gut or my body tells me I got it wrong, I’ll leave, and I trust myself to do so.

  For now, I’m happy. Oh god, I’m so happy. So, ladies and gentlemen, allow me to announce that my lover was promoted to boyfriend a little while ago. After almost six months, I can say it: I’ve finally found someone who walks beside me with peace, respect, and kindness, and I strive to do the same for him.

  PS: I think I got new subscribers? Not sure what you find in me/this project, but thank you for reading and sharing a little corner of the internet/my soul with me.

  

  A visual representation of my weekend. And yes, I wish it were me but it is not.

  2026.09.28