Holy Moly. This is no joke. I have three full days until my move to Austin, Texas. I’ve got to be honest, I’m still pretty darn scared. No amount of money, security, reassurances, or support in the world would change the fact that deep inside I’m scared.
But I will not let fear dictate my decisions. Fear is good. Fear means I care. If I didn’t care why would I bother doing this? But I do, so here I go.
Here I go out into the world. We don’t know what we don’t know. I plan on finding out.
My next guest blogger is Vanessa Cortez. Vanessa is actually a close personal friend of mine who I recently spent some time with. We had a greasy food/Gilmore Girls day (As you all know that I love) and really talked about things on our minds. I asked Vanessa to write a story about her own personal struggle because We always seem to connect when we spend time together. It’s like we really understand each other on a more personal level. Unfortunately she doesn’t have a blog, but she really really should, because she has some amazing things to say. This specific entry is about her hesitation to trust.
“My name is Vanessa, born and raised in the city of Chicago – second generation. Grandparents originated for different sections of Mexico.”
It is 10:35 on a Monday night and I have been wracking my brain for the past week on how to initiate tonights topic; when Jess asked me to share my words on her blog I had no idea how to introduce myself to an audience. Would I come off offensive? Not offensive enough? Would I bore her beloved readers!? This has been a whole new experience for me, as writing has always been my sanctuary and shelter, and for the first time in a long time I am allowing myself to be exposed. This should go without being said but I’ll say it anyways, everything I share is not something anyone should feel sorry about. I share in hopes of helping someone not feel so alone. In hopes that you, unlike me, will seek a trusting friend to at least hear you out rather than to bottle everything; so here it goes…
I’m Vanessa and my biggest life-altering change is allowing myself to be vulnerable and trusting of those who matter; mainly my boyfriend. That may sound shallow or superficial, but after worrying about the wrong people and devoting so much time into people who cared very little about me, it ended up taking a toll on my life.
As a child, vulnerability fits the description, life is still pure and we have yet to be corrupted. You were taught that the adults were the rule bearers and you were just to abide by them, so what happens when you touch a subject that has never been introduced into your life? When I finally came to an understanding of what had happened I was apparently lucky, because people have been through more than I have. Is there really a better end of the stick when it comes to situations like these? Eight years old and innocence was taken like a balloon engulfed into the sky. The thin line of smothering affection and inappropriate was crossed in a heartbeat, but by these people who were considered family was it so wrong? I was always told something along the lines of “don’t let strangers do this, you don’t know them so they’re bad”, but the truth was I hadn’t known who these people were. My family became the strangest human beings of all; it had first happened with an overzealous uncle. Surely there was a reason this man appeared when I was all alone, and him being bigger than I was made me feel helpless.
Home lost it’s meaning when not one but two relatives crossed into inappropriate. To sum it up it was hard for me to trust others. So when I started to actually trust again I left my goodwill in the wrong hands. Back in March of 2013 I met a guy, who just so happened to be related to my brother’s girlfriend, (I know life so cliche, why aren’t I in a movie? Kidding). So this guy, I thought he was the bees knees. I mean losing my common sense crazy about the guy and for the longest time I was sure he felt the same, but he was good at toying with my heart. To make a long story short, we became well acquainted. I guess what I’m trying to say is that there’s so much I’ve been through and I’ve let those situations run how I lived most of my life. It is one of the main reasons why trust among others has always been hard for me, jeopardizing all at hand with my better half because of this fear that hangs over me; which is why I’ve learn to slowly but surely let the past be in the past and to hold onto to everything new offered.
As I’m sure you can all tell, Vanessa is an extremely talented writer. I know she expressed some worry to me about this perticular post, so I just wanted to say that if writing is something you love to do then just let it flow out of you. If it is a coping skill or something that makes you feel at ease, who cares if the I’s aren’t dotted or the T’s aren’t crossed? In the grand scheme of things the message is the most important thing to be delivered.
Vanessa, your message was definitely delivered. Thank you so much for sharing. Tomorrow will be a very touching poem by another friend of mine who suffered from physical abuse at the hand of her significant other.