The Number Game ain’t a Fun Game

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Pesky little things numbers, aren’t they?

We place so much value on what a few digits can tell us and yet they truly tell us nothing at all.

I will be the first to admit I become obsessed with the number on the scales all too quickly at times and the number can either comfort me or send me into despair.

I haven’t been happy that the number on the scale seems to have increased and not dropped at all lately. I usually let it dictate my happiness but there’s more to life than numbers.

A friend pointed out my ‘amazing ass’ the other day and so I had a little think.I put together two pictures one from this week and one from 5 weeks ago…here it is…

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Same beautiful smile, same happiness. The only difference was the number on the scales.

But look at the change…not only have my legs gotten more muscular I think I look healthier. Now I’m not saying I was unhealthy in the first picture but I do think I look stronger as a whole in the second.

The numbers have dictated my happiness in the past but that’s all they are…numbers..and I’m worth more. They don’t reflect true values such as friendships, work or even that muscle you’ve clearly gained in the gym!

So chin up and ignore what those numbers tell you. It’s only a digit and only you get to decide what it means.

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V-Day-D-Day (Part 2)

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That’s right…V-Day-D-Day got worse yesterday AFTER I published my new post so here I am making an additional one. In all honesty, this guy deserves a separate post anyway, so well done him!

Firstly, let me provide you with some humour as to why some of my previous Valentine’s are ‘special’ in a not-so-special-way:

  • 2013 – I was surprised when we arrived at the restaurant with a triple date with people I really didn’t like.
  • 2014 – A friend was visiting for the week and instead of sleeping next door I found him in my bed and he harassed me.
  • 2015-  A date was kidnapped by his sports team right when I was due to meet him – story was never verified but I’m happy to award points for originality here.
  • 2016 – I was in a relationship where the guy didn’t do anything, where I felt more single than had I actually been alone.

And 2o17?!?! Drum roll please my lovelies!

So, I basically got dumped by a best friend yesterday but remember that guy who hurt me? (I refer to posts such as Shit Happens, A Beautiful Contradiction, Raw)…he damn well text me. It’s sort of ironic considering there was a hint of him in my mind when I wrote V-Day-D-Day (part 1) about boys lying to me.

My heart sank when his name flashed up on my phone. I actually panicked a bit. I didn’t know what to do. I do miss the fun we had. But this guy hurt me. When we were ‘dating’ he continually asked me to trust him. He wanted me to think he was genuine. He seemed to care whether I had eaten or not. He asked about my past and the future I wanted. I met a couple of his friends and he met mine.

And so I opened up that heart of mine. Just a little bit. I spent so long with my heart in a cage but I let my heart open up to the idea of something more.

The idea of being with him.

I tried to keep my heart shut but friends convinced me that he liked me. He was doing things that were more than sex. We had sober dates, romantic dates and of course we had drunken dates.

For the first time in forever, I thought someone liked me. And I let myself like that person back.

I let myself become vulnerable because I thought he was worth it.

But then one evening he ripped the band-aid off.

Let’s be honest this has been completely platonic. I thought after ten weeks I would have developed feelings but I haven’t. There’s never been any sort of spark between us. I want to fall in love with my best friend and you’re not that. We should end this. 

Completely platonic. 

Never been a spark. 

You’re not that.

The Demon was incredibly cruel to me following that. It told me I was stupid to think he liked me, that I was wrong to open up when he asked me to, that I was weak for revealing my vulnerability, that I’m only good for sex and not worth anything else. It told me I was ugly and fat and had I never told him about my ED he would have liked me.

It told me lies. Just like he told me lies.

I’ve written before that I don’t want him back but that hopeless romantic in me thought what if he wants to apologise? What if he wants to make up for what he did? I’ll never sleep with him but could we be amicable?

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So I truly was just sex to him for almost 3 months and last night showed he has no respect for me whatsoever. To think he could even consider trying to do this to me.

That’s what stabbed my heart last night. That’s what broke me a little bit more. Any consolation that perhaps I was a touch more than sex, gone.

I live my life by what I call the three-C’s. Stay Classy, never Chase a boy and never Crawl back. He dumped me and I never begged him to change his mind. I strongly remember holding my head high through the tears and walking out of that bar leaving him to settle the bill. I proudly remember refusing to reply to his text following that evening.

(Well done NYE-Drunk Len…you did us proud ❤ )

I’ve slowly been moving on and you think you can play on the fact you know I had feelings for you? You think I’m the type of girl to wait and hope for you to like me back?

Well, you’re a dick and I don’t want you back.

It’s your loss [insert name here]

You chose to lose me and now there’s definitely no prospect of anything ever happening again. He apologised after I replied. I bet he didn’t think I’d turn him down…I bet he thought I’d go running…but that shows how cruel he is.

How cruel some men are to play with our feelings, to pick up and drop our fragile hearts without a care in the world.

You clearly still think about me. You clearly still want me, even if it’s to sleep with me. You clearly had some level of ‘spark’ if you actually had the balls to text me to try get me.

But.You. Can’t. Have. Me. 

I was crying before but now I’m smiling.

And you know what, my lovelies? That means I’ve won.

He chose to lose me.

But I chose to respect myself and the value of my body and my soul.

I chose me ❤

And just look at what he can’t ‘tap’ anymore….

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Twitter:@elenip92
Instagram: @elenipapa92

V-Day-D-Day

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I think I lost a best friend today. Someone who became an unexpected best friend and yet potentially one of the best and all I’ve learnt is that our friendship was a lie.

Happy Valentine’s Day Len!

Another bad one for the storybook. Genuinely cannot say I’ve had a good Valentine’s Day ever.

We would hang out every Sunday. We text nearly every day. But then last week when I told him..yes…he’s a boy…I was about to ask for my job back and might not be able to hang every Sunday (dependent on my shifts) he stopped talking.

And I got worried. I was so concerned that there was something wrong with a best friend of mine I pushed to get through to him and he replied that because I had said I might not be able to hang on a Sunday he didn’t see the point of being ‘pen pals’.

Essentially, his response to his best friend needing to go back to work wasn’t to wonder why she needed to go back, why she needed extra cash but rather, that there was no point being friends anymore.

Ouch is an understatement. True friendship isn’t about how often you see each other but how it feels like nothing has changed no matter how long you spend apart. There’s one reason I can think of why he doesn’t see the point of staying in touch if he can’t see me…maybe he wanted me

I don’t want that to be arrogant but if that is true I’m even more hurt. Because we had an understanding that we were mates and that was it. He was dating other girls and chasing his ex and I was dating, then somewhat seeing someone, then dating again. If that’s the case, that he was only interested as there was potential (in his eyes anyway, not mine) then that really hurts because I’ve been lied to.

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I’m sick of people being dishonest and using me for what they think they can get out of me. Clearly playing some long game with me. Clearly lying about his intentions.

If he had told me then I would have taken steps to ensure that the boundaries were incredibly clear. I would have never become so close to him because I, as a person, would have been scared of leading him on. Scared of hurting someone. Why am I always the one scared of hurting others and they never care about hurting me?

 

Because he lied I became best friends with a liar.
Because he lied I lost a best friend.
Because he lied my heart has broken yet again.

 

 

Too Glam To Give A Damn

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Self-confidence is the best outfit you can possibly wear. 

I broke down at law school this week, I’d let the emotions get on top of me and I hadn’t dealt with them healthily at all. I’ve spent a while feeling fat and overweight and ugly…all those horrible words said to me by others years ago and the horrible words I learnt to value my worth upon.

I couldn’t hold it together and I broke down in the middle of the class. Two of my really good friends came to help put me back together and I told them exactly what’s been going on. The family, the fear of being told I have cervical cancer, the hurt, the financial situation, and I told them I’m recovering from bulimia. That I have purged and I was so  ashamed of myself for, in my words, ‘failing’.

So, it’s been a tough one this week but we had a girls night out (with a close male friend too) and it was simply everything I could have wanted. I could feel how much the week had gotten to me though because I was feeling back in a place where I was nervous to go out, struggling to find clothes, hating that girl in the mirror. I was filled with this fear that I’m going to be that fat friend with my other skinny counterparts. That I’d look so fat and ugly in any pictures that surfaced the next day. I could feel that dread burning. The desire to be thin rising yet again.

The night before I tried on my outfit and hated the way I looked so before going out I tried something different. I didn’t want that fear to be there when I went out. I didn’t want the demon to stop me having fun. So I stood in front of the mirror and I took a deep breath in and I smiled at myself. I thought about how much fun I knew I was going to have. I thought about how much me and E had been planning this night and how excited I genuinely was. I thought about how much I wanted to dance with someone who’s become one of my closest friends, to dance without a care in the world. A night where boys were not on the menu!

Smiling seemed to make me smile even more.

And I felt the smile glowing. I felt my confidence starting to grow. I laughed at some of the antics from the week before and at the thought of only god knows what was going to happen later! I started to smile at how much my friends cared when they saw me break down. I started to remember that there are people who think I’m awesome and, if I’m honest, I do think I’m pretty awesome too.

I was smiling simply because thinking of my friends, my excitement, even those damn sexy shoes I was going to wear made me happy! I was smiling because I knew exactly what outfit I was going to choose and although I had started the evening so scared that I was going to be fat, when I went back to the mirror I loved that girl staring back at me. I loved the curls in her hair, that smile and her dimples. I loved how happy she was.

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I loved me.

Just the way I was.

The way I am.

And I realised I could care less about people who made me feel fat and ugly all those years ago because all that matters are my friends who made me smile again. My friends who picked me up in that corridor when I could barely stand. My friends who danced with me all night long. My friends are beautiful people. And you know what? So am I.

Too glam to give a damn? Too damn right ❤

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Instagram: @elenipapa92
Twitter: @elenip92

A Beautiful Ticker

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The thing with broken clocks is that you can tell exactly when they stopped ticking.
With people it isn’t so easy. Sometimes you can’t even tell they’re broken.

I wouldn’t necessarily say it’s broken but it’s definitely been hurt. It’s been picked up and carelessly shattered into pieces a few times but it’s still there. It’s still ticking, beating away to the sound of my consistently crazy life.

Going back to Law School meant that whilst the gossip had spread, most people hadn’t gotten to speak to the actual source: me. I don’t blame them but it took a lot out of me having to tell close friends what had happened yet again. It was draining to go through the evening over and over again: his words, his actions, my feelings.

Just like last year, my exams had been the perfect distraction. However, the post-exam come-down made me realise that I was still hurting. Not over the boy but, rather, his actions. I don’t need nor want a liar in my life but the situation just echoed my past. No, it didn’t echo it, it amplified it. The contradiction of words and actions was one of the cruelest things I have ever experienced.

I still don’t believe he meant to hurt me so bad but that doesn’t exactly make it hurt any less. I don’t need people to tell me that it wasn’t my fault. That sometimes things don’t work. That I’m fine just the way I am. I do know that and I’m still that optimistic girl full of hope that one day, someone perfect for her will think she is perfect for him.

Nevertheless, my confidence has taken a massive hit. My focal point of happiness has shifted back to weight loss and I need to pull myself up and climb over this rocky patch and remember that there is so much  more to me than a number on a scale.

Everyone needs to take a time out every now and then. Just press pause for a few moments, take a breath and reflect. We have all, at some stage or another in our lives, been presented with challenges that we have either overcome or are still pushing to overcome. We have all experienced darkness and failure. We have all been taken advantage of and let down. We have all been hurt and not once did any of us deserve it but whilst the pain makes our confidence drop, don’t you think that we are actually so much more beautiful for it?

I think so.

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Kintsugi is the Japanese art of restoring a broken piece with a lacquer that is mixed with gold or silver. This craft is based on understanding the spiritual background and history behind the material and is interwoven with the philosophy of finding beauty in broken things. To appreciate that the piece is far more beautiful for having been broken.

My ticker needs some time to heal right now but it’s going to be more golden than it ever was before and someone who truly deserves it will appreciate the artwork that is this broken heart of mine.

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Twitter: @elenip92
Instagram: @elenipapa92

Raw

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Hands tense, gripping what they can. Trying to stand tall but everything is crumbling.

Heavier weights to try numb the even heavier pain.

But it’s falling away. It’s being ripped away.

It hurts. Oh it god damn hurts.

The pounding starts. The voices come running. Whispers turn into screams.

Walls back up but still spiralling downwards. One step forward yet five leaps back.

Lift even heavier. Push through the pain. It helps the hurt.

But why does it still hurt?

Tears stinging. Why is it still so raw?

I’ll never see him again but why am I scared that it might happen accidentally?

How did one person take away all my strength? All my confidence? All my self-worth? Why did he have to take it, just to have sex with me for a few months?

I can’t do it right now. I can’t fix myself right now. Somebody please pick me up because I really can’t stand on my own right now. Anyone. Please.

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