Fighter, not a survivor.

I used to believe in fake love. You know, that fairy tale version where my first love sweeps me off my feet and never leaves kinda one. I was practically on the edge of a cliff balancing my entire life, so I could cook him dinner every night. Because I just wanted to make him happy. That’s what made me happy. Still, I cried myself to sleep nightly, just to get rewarded to sleep next to him. Little did I know that sweep me off my feet kinda love actually did knock me off my feet. Not in the good way. 

Now I believe in peace. I don’t fret over what’s not meant to be. I used to hold on so tight to everything I touched because I was so damn afraid to lose it. Now I need insurance for every thing I touch because I can’t quite seem to keep track of where it is. Maybe I’m just getting old. Or on to something here. Turns out, losing isn’t a bad thing. Losing is humbling. It’s humanitary. Losing actually taught me to be a better person. That winning and losing actually go hand in hand in love and life. Who I was just wanted to win win win no matter what. But to lose taught me to love myself. That I can still conquer through isolating storms with a big fat L on my forehead. I look at who I was in the midst of category five tornadoes, and as bad at it got, I never gave up. I muddled through them looking ratchet as fuck from the strikes, but I survived. 

Funny thing is I never thought to refer to myself as a survivor because it makes me feel like I’m lying. Like dude, but did you die? I didn’t go through an experience where I actually died. How can I call myself a survivor? I just can’t. But the more that I think of it now, I survived pain that I never thought I’d survive. Hell, I would’ve much rather been hit by a dump truck to feel or even succumb to actual physical pain, because what I felt was actually worse. It was pure torture. To be forced to unlove someone, all while going through real life trauma because someone super close to me damn near REALLY almost died, is the rated G version. God sometimes it still hurts. Even years later. But to say “I survived” doesn’t sit well with me. Because sadly, for myself it’s become quite the normality. Being torn down and brought back up is my life’s cycle. I learned that also. I finally broke that cycle when I made peace my priority. When I walked away instead of held on for dear fucking life, while letting go was staring right at me the entire time. But my heart is huge, that’s what puts me into these shitty situations. I now know when the time is right, it will lead me to the right place, it always does. That’s why I don’t give up. Because what is it all worth if I cave in the end?

 So instead of survivor, I call myself a fighter. Because I truly fought battles just to be able to now sleep in peace. So I don’t fret because I have me. And she’s bad ass. Who I was didn’t know that. Of course sometimes it’s heartbreaking to face reality. Sometimes it kills me to ask myself, if one thing had been different where would I be now. But everything happens for a reason. Sometimes I even find myself laughing when those realizations come over me. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I miss that girl that believed so strongly in a love that failed every time. Sometimes I even miss it. Sometimes I laugh looking back through the years. Sometimes I ball like a baby with a bottle of wine and girlfriends. But they always remind me what assholes they were. Or let me talk about whatever my heart feels. Or sit in silence when I just need to let the tears fall. They’ve seen it all. The good, bad, and sad girl I worked so hard to love. Damn the girl I was wouldn’t have been able to admit any of this. The girl I was couldn’t even look at herself because deep down she knew the truth. But she always pretended that life was going to prove her wrong, so just hold on. I know now it never will. Because who I am now actually trusts herself. Assholes and liars always prove me right. Who I am now listens. She loves. She’s wiser because she doesn’t stress over what she thinks she wants. I am cool with reality. I’ve made peace with it. I think that was the hardest thing for me to accept. Doesn’t mean I don’t cry, lose my shit, or ever laugh. After all I’ve been through, I am still human. But who I am is not what happened to me. I may be stronger because of it, but I’m not Wonder Woman. Sometimes even more shit happens just to test me. I’m still here. 

Who I was probably would have settled down unhappily ever after. Just like the vast majority of these sad and doomed relationships I see people in. Just for the comfort. But true comfort lies within ourselves, not wrapped around someone else. Who I am now, doesn’t settle for shit. Unless it’s a fuck yes on both sides, it ain’t even worth it to me. Trust is now part of my everyday life. But sexy things like effort, loyalty, vulnerability, honesty, and reliability isn’t handed freely, it’s earned mutually. If it’s a dead end street, I will never sit there and wait for it to open miraculously. Life is far too precious to waste on mediocre shit. Unless his eyes are from another planet like T Swift says, I ain’t here for it. Who I was wouldn’t be so excited for what’s to come. Because she was so afraid of the unknown. Yes it is a true fact that unknown calls give me PTSD, but I no longer fret over what I don’t know. I think that’s where I’ve grown. And for once in my life, I am actually excited not knowing. 

Written by: Epiphany Tiffany