Am In Serious Need of a Mental Health Day

I’ve been back here at grad school for less than a week and a half now. It’s my last year, I should be happy. I’m not. I’m stressed, tired, and overworked. This is how I felt since school started up again last Tuesday. Within just a week of each class beginning, I’ve already had a major paper and presentation due.

Today was a bad day. First, someone said I have “micromanaging qualities”. Oh really? Really? Me? Sweet Shaz that works her butt off when other people don’t? Shaz award winning leader? Do people know what I’m going through? Returning to school with major anxiety after witnessing a natural disaster and injury in the family. And also battling an autoimmune disorder. And still working her ass off. Okay. Fine. I’ll take a break and let other people do the work.

Then, my favorite consulting company I applied for a networking opportunity with rejected me. Okay.

Then, the presentation for my consulting class was today and it went horribly. How can a professor expect us to prepare something in less than a week about a subject that is like another language to us?

Over the course of the week, people have  finally been asking about my family and Hurricane Harvey.

Every day, at least three people have stopped me.

“Omg Shaz! Was your family affected by Hurricane Harvey?” they say.

Um yea. a) You know I live in Houston. b) I posted on social media and you saw this two weeks ago but you didn’t seem to care then.

But I don’t say that.

I say, “Yes. It was sad. Thank you for your concern”.

I have tried to forget about it but it’s not easy when people all of a sudden care and are asking.

And today. A person talked about it in the rudest way. AND I SNAPPED.

Right after my presentation (that went horribly), a guy- a fellow grad student my good friend Susan introduced me to texted me.

I talk about my horrible first few days of school and how I miss my family. He asks where they are.

“Houston” I say.

“OMG” he texts back immediatly.

“What?” I ask.

“Was your family in the Hurricane Harvey area???”

I sigh for the 100th time.

“Yes” I say.

“As a public health specialist, did you do something to save your city?”

Cue the angry emoji. “Well. I cleaned up my dad’s blood after he was injured by debris so I guess somewhat I did” I respond.

“That’s sad!” he says. Yea no effing kidding…

“So are you going to Florida next?” he asks. Um…is he serious. Is he implying something about Hurricane Irma?

“No” I say.

“Well I guess you’re not meant to save the world then. Because you’re not saving them” he says.

EXCUSE ME????

“Then maybe saving the world isn’t at the top of your list” he continues.

What the fuck?? Enough is enough.

“Or maybe. I have PTSD after witnessing a major disaster where I live. And I don’t want to see another one” I say.

He says he didn’t understand that and thanks me for explaining.

Jesus.

Dude could have just said sorry.

I’m done.

I feel dead inside.

I snappchatted my friends saying “It’s only my second week back at school and I already need a mental health day”.

My best friend Steven responded “You know you can always take one”.

Sigh. I could. But tomorrow is Bioststistics, the class I’m retaking 😔 So I gotta wait until the weekend. Which has many socials and group projects. Ugh.

Hoping maybe on Saturday I can take that mental health day.

Hope all of you are well. Your posts and comments give me comfort through this stressful time ❤

With love,

Shaz

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My Thoughts Through Hurricane Harvey

I decided to visit Houston for the last two weeks of my summer to spend time with my family. My dad says once I begin a full time job, I won’t be able to fly home as much. Also, it would give me a chance to celebrate my first year of grad school and first ever public health career being done.

But as the news reports came in, it quickly became apparent that this will have to wait. We heard about Hurricane Harvey, we didn’t think it would hit us. But last Friday, early morning, I hear the news loudly. My mom and dad are watching it.

“Get dressed we need to go get supplies” my dad tells me.

I nod. This is important. It looks like the storm will be serious, and even if we are able to stay in our house, there will be flooding and we will need to stay inside for a few days. The grocery store is packed and items were quickly going off shelves. Many aisles have a sign that says “Due to Hurricane Harvey, this item is out of stock. Please be patient as we re-stock”. We get all the necessary items: water, canned goods, toilet paper, paper towels, charcoal, candles, lighters, snacks, milk, eggs, bread. And food for my dog.

We also go to the gas station to get gas for our car. The gas station is also packed. When we get home we sort these items and continue to watch the news. On that Friday and Saturday, nothing happened in our area. There were emergency alerts, but no serious rain. We were able to take a walk outside both days!

That all changed Sunday. Sunday it started pouring like no other. Non-stop. There were leaks in two rooms. There was a bird, sitting by himself who looked injured in the rain. I built him a shoebox nest and moved him to a dry area. The water was up to the middle of my thighs. My mom yelled at me to come inside. We continued to watch the news all day. Our neighbors come by a few hours later. Both our next door neighbors are away on vacation so we go and secure their outdoor belongings with their help.

Monday morning we wake up, and we see no grass and no road. Everything is drenched in a foot of water. We get a call from my Dad’s boss saying his house (very close to us) is flooded. Another colleague of my Dad’s says he just had to evacuate. I look at my family. We begin moving all our necessary items upstairs. We place tape on doors and lots of mats to prevent water from coming in. It works.

Monday night, the neighborhood board lets us know that they will be releasing water from the lake so we should be okay. My family is happy. Still, I have a bad feeling it is not over.

But the next morning we wake up, a lot of the water has been gone and the roads are clear. My dad is happy. We stepped outside briefly to let my dog use the bathroom. And my dad notices all of the debris left behind. He grabs a rake and begins cleaning it up. I tell him maybe we should wait until we know the storm is over.

He just shrugs and continues. I grab my dog who has decided to go swimming in the flood and dry her off. When I hear my dad lightly calling me. “Shaz. Shaz. Shaz.”

My dog runs to my dad. I walk slowly. I see blood.

“I stepped on a nail” my dad says limping.

“Oh my god” I hold his arm and grab the rake.

I see my mom inside the house. “GRAB THE FIRST AID KIT!!!” I yell trying not to cry. There was so much blood I thought I would faint.

My dad walks into the house, leaving a trail of blood. My mom gives me Clorox and asks me to clean it up as she bandages up my dad. She lets me know we will be taking Dad to the Emergency Room.

I feel sick. I quickly wear gloves, clean up, and dispose. Dad is losing color, I grab him a Gatorade. I ask him if he has his wallet, he says yes. The rest of had packed our purses and wallets away into bags in case we needed to evacuate. There was no time to get them. We all get in the car and go.

In between, I was chatting with “Prince Player”. I told him about a dream I had. Where it was the first day of school, and I was late to class, so when I saw him I grabbed his hand and said “Hey” and walked away. He said he can see that happening, but if it was him, he wouldn’t have walked away. Oh my.

I’m shocked he hasn’t asked me about how I was doing with the hurricane… he is one of my greatest friends. I shrug. It’s fine. He doesn’t like me being sad.

We arrive at the ER. Surprisingly, it is not packed and they are able to see my dad quickly. The doctor says we all did the right thing. The nail went into his vein and it was good we bandaged him and brought him in so quickly. He gets a few shots and prescribed antibiotics and pain medications.

We search for a pharmacy that is open. Almost everything is closed due to the hurricane, I finally find one. I get there and there is a long line. Once I arrive to the counter, the receptionist tells me it will be an hour. Sigh. My family and I decide to get food. Again, a struggle to find something that was open. We went in circles and finally found a McDonald’s.

As we drive back to the pharmacy, we feel a flat tire… Oh no. At the pharmacy, we get out and see a piece of glass in the tire. YES DEBRIS AGAIN. My mom calls our insurance who says they will take an hour to get there to help us. It was 8. We got out of the house at 5 and are all physically and emotionally drained.

“Fuck it. We’re gonna change this ourselves” my dad says getting out on his injured foot.

“YOU SIT DOWN” my mom says.

My dad disagrees and has me hold a parking spot for space while he and my brother begin to change the tire. It’s difficult. The parking lot is packed and everytime someone tries to park in that spot, I give them a sad look and motion to the damaged tire. We have no way to get home and my dad is standing on one foot. Uber is down saying they want their drivers and passengers to be safe with the Hurricane happening so they will not be running. Otherwise, I would have gotten one for Dad and my mom and brother could have waited for our insurance.

But finally, after 3 good samaritans stopped by and offered us various types of help, 1 hour later- we were done.

We still had minor damages to the car but were able to drive. My mom and I would take it to the shop the next morning we decided. When we all get home, my dad says he needs a drink. We all pour ourselves one and heat up a pizza.

I’m sad. But I look up at out TV screen, and see some individuals who lost everything they had. Our good friend Aaron once told me never to compare my experiences to someone elses, but it’s so hard here. Our house can be repaired. Our car can be repaired. My dad will hopefully heal soon.

Yet, when I close my eyes. I am devestated. I see debris and blood everywhere. The Dean of my school released a great article about how even being in the path of a natural disaster can cause mental effects. And an injury, can add to that. I see it. It is Saturday, and we are all still sad. I have been running errands for my dad everyday and am helping him get back on his feet. It’s not easy. He is still in pain.

And I turned off the news. I can’t hear about it anymore.

I’m thankful for my friends Susan, Steven, and Sam who checked up on me every single day. And still are checking up on me.

“It’s just an after shock” I told Susan when I couldn’t stop crying Wednesday morning.

“Well don’t forget what Dean G said in his article, it may very well be PTSD. And that is okay” she says.

I sighed. Other friends checked up on me just once, and continued to Snapchat me random updates on their life. When they know I am sad. And don’t want to see what they are eating, vacationing, or watching on TV- I want them to listen. And when I heal we can go back to this. It hasn’t even been 1 week since the disaster. They can give me time. Right? I don’t think 1 week is a lot to ask.

Life must go on I guess. I am healing. Today, the Director of Graduate Students at my school who has been helping with my ADHD accommodations wrote to me.

“Hi Shaz,

I wanted to check in with you and hoping you and your family are well and safe. Please know that I have been thinking of you. Sending hugs and hope your way. Let me know if you need anything at all”.

This. This is all I needed to hear. I love my Boston family.

You know how in “Part of Me”, Katy Perry says “I just want to throw my phone away. Find out who is there for me”. This is how I always felt in Chicago.

Thank goodness Boston and Houston are different.

Especially Houston. I saw a strength in my city this week that I’ve never seen before.

This isn’t the way I imagined going to start my last year of school, but I’m inspired by my city. And thankful that I have shelter and my family. And I pray for everyone who lost theirs. Please do the same.

xoxo. S.

So Here’s What Happened

A week an a half ago, I was wrapping up my internship. A very stressful time of ending my job and submitting my project. I also got the news that I have been promoted from Executive Vice President to CO-PRESIDENT of my school’s club!! Wow, it just never stops for me. And I love it. I think. Anyways, that Friday night where I end this long week, I go to bed. I would have gone out but I was tired from all the work I did and had a photo shoot the next morning for my President picture 😉 So I passed out around 11.

Around 5 am I wake up. I feel uncomfortably sweaty. So I get up and turn up the AC.

I get in my bed when I hear an annoying vibrating sound. I look around and realize it’s my phone.

The first thought of all thoughts in my head is, “Why is my phone vibrating? Did I accidentally put my alarm on for work? Why would I do that? I know I don’t work on Saturdays”.

I grab my phone. I panic when I see the screen.

IT IS. “K”. His name appears in giant letters across my phone. The guy that emotionally abused me. And has had no contact with me for 6 MONTHS. Surely, this is a nightmare. But it’s not.

What the absolute hell??? I THOUGHT I HAD BLOCKED HIM!! Why is he calling me??? I put the phone on my coffee table and step away from it as if that will make it stop ringing. Or at least so I don’t accidentally touch my phone and answer the call. A minute later (or so it feels like), it stops.

My heart beats fast. I wait a few minutes. Now is when he should text saying it was a mistake, he didn’t mean to call me. But he doesn’t. I triple lock my doors. I usually only lock one of the locks, but that night I do all of them. He knows where I live, and he knows I live alone. I don’t know why he’s calling me, and this isn’t funny.

I block him and get back in bed. My heart is still beating fast but I have my photo shoot early in the morning and I need my sleep. I’m terrified. I say some prayers and fall alseep.

I had the worst nightmares. Terrible terrible nightmares. When I wake up, I tell Steven.

I had just told him about “K” when we talked about why I haven’t been in a relationship lately. He like “Prince Player” had been wondering why I hadn’t shared anything about my relationships lately as that is something I usually talk about.

“Must have been a prank call. Or accidental” he says.

“But why?? Who calls someone after 6 months??” I ask.

I decide to go to the gym. Usually I go at night, but that day, I don’t feel safe.

As I’m walking to the gym, I decide I can’t take it anymore. I don’t need to live like this. I want answers. I need to know I am safe.

I unblock “K” and text him.

“Why did you call me at 5 in the morning last night?” I text.

I keep an eye on my phone.

An hour later. I see three texts on my phone.

“Oh I think it was a pocketdial”

“But hi bee”

“How’s your summer?”

WHAT. THE. HELL????

  1. Pocket dial??? How do you “pocket dial” someone who is not in your “recents”?? And at 5 am??
  2. Hi bee???? How can he think it is okay to still call me this??
  3. HOW’S MY SUMMER?? Oh, I guess he forgot Winter and Spring too.

I go back to blocking him. All he had to say was, “Sorry. It was a pocket dial” (if it even was a “pocket dial!”) He has no business in my life anymore.

“He’s a player” my friend says.

“He was drunk. He probably didn’t remember” another friend said.

HELLO. WAKE UP PEOPLE. ARE YOU SERIOUS? I don’t care! I don’t care if he is a player or was drunk! Above both of these, he is an emotional abuser. And emotional abusers should not be contacting me!!

For the love of god, I only texted him to check that he was not out to hurt me. Not anything else. It bothered me that people still think I am the naive person I used to be.

So yes reader. This is why you haven’t seen me this past week. I have been trying to get over this, and defending myself (although I absolutely do not have to, I know I did the right thing).

He is blocked. I double checked he is blocked on just about every social media and anything on my phone. I guess I had only blocked him on social media before because I knew he would never call me or text me (and he didn’t!) until a week ago.

It is absolutely terrifying that right after I published that post about his abuse, right after telling “Prince Player”, Steven, and my other close friend about it- this happens. But everything is fine now.

Thank you Kaiya and Myka for being patient. I’ll have your letters out soon! 🙂

xoxo. S.

Paused

Hello friends!

You may have noticed I have been a little absent this past week. Something happened that threw me off guard (not in a good way). And then…I had to prepare for the ending of my internship and being elected onto the executive board of a club! I am frazzled, but excited. Thankfully, I am home now and should be getting back to updating you all and writing your letters 🙂

I promise to catch up on all of your blogs as soon as I am back on here!

xoxo. S.

A Letter to Me (from Meghan)

Hello everyone,

Today, I was delighted to experience a For the Love of Sass first. As many of you know, I have been writing letters to readers who are interested. One of our good friends Meghan responded to the one I wrote her! Have a look 🙂

xoxo. S.

Hey Meghan...

My lovely Friend Shaz wrote me a nice letter last week. See below.

Source: A Letter to Meghan

I meant to write her back sooner but I was out of town and forgot my laptop. I also ran out of data so I couldn’t use my phone. My bad!

Dear Shaz,

I was so excited to get your letter. I’m not going to lie, I was checking everyday to see if it was my turn yet. This letter will probably be a large ramble/responding to what you said.

First and foremost, I still love Ben and Jerry’s. Fun fact:I’m somewhat lactose intolerant so I don’t eat ice cream very often. When I do eat ice cream,  I go straight for a pint of Milk and cookies or Brownie Batter Core. YUM. Now I want some.

I have loved your blog since I found it. I actually love it for the…

View original post 451 more words

Facts About Your Letters

Hello friends,

As of now, I have 1 letter left to write (request more please!!!!) If you don’t know what I’m talking about please read, A Letter to You!

Writing these letters have been a lot of fun. It is the newest thing I have been doing with my blog. A big step from writing about my grad school struggles and what not. Speaking of which, I am so proud for getting ELEVEN posts in last month. Once grad school begins, it will be barely once a month 😦 I hope you guys will still love me!

Anyways, here are some things you may not know about when I write your letters.

1.) I write your letters between 1am-4:30 am. This is when my brain works.

2.) I am usually munching on something when I write you letters. 1am-4:30 is when those cravings hit! When I was writing Paul’s and Aaron’s letters- I was eating coconut chips. Steven’s letter- kiwi. Chris’s letter- caramel popcorn. Meghan’s letter- smores (not gluten free, bad Shaz). Asha’s letter was the only one where I did not snack while writing.

3.) I am surprised this blog is not about food.

4.) I leave it up to you to tell me what you want your letter to be about, but if you don’t, I usually write about you. Meghan was the first person who said I could write about anything including my day so I went for it (A Letter to Meghan). In an upcoming letter to Kaiya, I will be writing blogging tips as requested by her. Do pop by if you want my tips! And no Paul, it won’t be the same as your’s 🙂

5.) Sometimes I wish we still wrote each other letter’s. I hate when I do something nice for somebody, and I get a two word text. I hate when someone misses me, and I just get a two word text. If this was a long time ago, you’d write me a letter about it and tell me how you are doing. So, thank you for requesting  letters. I’m bringing letters back 😉 (DID YOU GET MY JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE REFERENCE?) No? Okay. Time for bed Shaz.

Night everybody!

S.

Let Me Tell You About My Day

So, I had been having a few crappy days. It all started when I published my last post. The topic made me think about what happened and made me sad 😦 And then my mom said something that made me sad. And then Prince Player told me something that made me sad. I don’t even remember what they said! And then finally, work was an absolute disaster on Friday and Monday.

And Tuesday I worked overtime.

Today, well it’s 2 am so I should say “yesterday”, but yes- yesterday I slept in. And when I woke up, my phone was FULL. Full of notifications.

Several from my readers at wordpress 🙂

Some emails from my boss

A Snapchat from Jeanette

A Snapchat from “Prince Player”

Some “likes” and comments on Facebook on the photo I posted last night

A Facebook message from Hillary

WAIT WHAT. I pause when I see that notification.

Hillary, was my best friend in high school (aside from Steven). She dropped her bag next to my desk in 2nd period World History class freshman year and the rest was history. She was there when I first began writing, we went to many parties, and we were on the golf team together!

When she went to California and I stayed in Illinois for college, we lost touch. But we would always message each other when we see that we’ve accomplished something, it was our birthdays, or just if we thought of one another .

So today, I open that Facebook message.

“So I’m in Boston lol. Are you around?”

SAY WHAT????????????

Um, yes!

Hillary wants to do lunch and I don’t believe it. I have not seen this girl in 5 years. So many friends of mine have come to visit Boston, but none really reached out to me.

I quickly get ready and agree to meet Hillary.

An hour later, I look around for her, and I see a gal with beach blonde hair, sunglasses, looking like she’s in LA instead of Boston-

“OH MY GOD” I say.

“HELLO!!!!!” Hillary says smiling.

Hug hug hug hug hug.

We order Mango sangria’s and catch up on our lives in literally 10 minutes. It’s like NOTHING has changed at all. There’s not many people I’d day drink with, but Hillary is an exception.

I Snapchat everything and ask Hillary to tell my friends what I was like in high school.

“You were crazy, like insane, but you always had a smile on you face” Hillary says.

I stop my video. I melt. I forgot that.

She asks me if I made a lot of friends here in Boston. I tell her I did.

“I would be surprised if you didn’t. You are so personable” she responds.

I melt. I forgot that.

She also asked me if I was still writing.

I melt. I forgot that I began writing at such an early age!

After we’re done drinking and eating, Hillary wants to see the baseball park. Luckily, I live in that area, so I take her there.

Silly troublemaker Hillary tries to sneak in because we can’t find a way in, but we eventually find a person thFullSizeRender(9)at is selling tickets to get a tour of Fenway Park and buy tickets.

Hillary was a softball player in high school so this was really important to her. We walk all over the stadium and take lots of pictures.

When we’re done, Hillary wants some postcards so I take her the bookstore and we pick out a few cute ones. She is writing them when we realize she has an extra.

“Who do I send this to?” she asks confused.

“I have no idea. The last time I sent a postcard was when I was in Dubai and it was to Mr. Klien and some girls on the team” I say laughing. Mr. Klien was our golf coach and AP Government teacher.

Her eyes widen. “THAT’S IT! We’re sending this to Mr. Klien!!!”

We laugh so hard and write a note to him.

Guess who bumped into each other here in Boston? Couldn’t help but talk about AP Government and golf! We hope you are well! 

And we signed our names 🙂 He’s going to love it.

And then it was time for Hillary to leave :/

But saying goodbye to her wasn’t tough. One thing about Hillary is, she’s not sad unless she absolutely has to be.

So when her Uber arrived, she was like, “Okay bye! I’ll text you!”. Like I’ll see her tomorrow or something haha.

And I love that about her.

And I love that she surprised me today. Is it just me, or is a surprised visit better than a planned visit???

She has made my entire Summer.

Thanks Hillary, for reminding me who I was and who I still am ❤

xoxo. S.

Dating After Emotional Abuse

“Do you have a dating life right now?”

This is what “Prince Player” asks me after I tell him The Big Sick reminded me a little of the way he and I was.

I frown. Only “Prince Player” can ask me that question and get away with it.

Hmmmm. Does hanging out with a guy once and never talking to him again count?? No I don’t think it does.

“No lol. Why?” I ask.

“I was just curious lol. I haven’t heard anything about that part of your life for a while” he says.

Ah. Of course. I’m sure my readers thought the same thing.

And here is why. The last guy, “K”, was emotionally abusive. And I didn’t know it. I missed all of the red flags.

Today, I am here to write share some of those red flags. Because I don’t want anyone to stick around for it like I did.

#1: When he found my birth control

K: “Shahz, what are these?”

Me: *grabs them from his hand* “Give me those, those are my birth control pills”

K: “But you told me you don’t have sex!”

Me: “I don’t. Those are to control the cramps and vomiting that happen every month when I get my period”

K: “Yea right you expect me to believe that? I have never heard of that excuse”

Me: *about to cry* “Then you clearly don’t know enough about them”

K: *gets angry* “What was that you just said?”

#2: When he saw my selfies with my best friend Jeanette

K: “Who’s this chick in all your Snapchats?”

Me: “My best friend Jeanette….”

K: “Is she a good girl?”

Me: *confused* “What?”

K: “I want to make sure you are hanging out with good people”

Jeanette is working on her Master’s with me. And works as a pharmacy tech. This guy had nothing near that. Really??

#3: When I hired a person trainer to help me with the weight gain my auto-immune disorder caused me this past year

K: “Seriously? Can’t you just watch Youtube videos instead?”

Me: “Um. I have more serious issues than that.”

K: “How would you feel if I had a personal trainer??”

Me: “I would be happy that you are taking care of your body and proud of the fact that you are working so hard!”

K: *laughs mockingly* “How much do you pay this guy?”

My personal trainer is gay.

#4: When we were cooking dinner and he opened a jar and accidentally got the contents all over my white walls

Me: *terrified that management is going to fine me for this, starts wetting a towel and wiping furiously* “Hey, can you help me with this?”

K: *tries for a second* “Ugh. I never had to clean a thing in my life. Just stop babe. I’ll hire a maid”

I agreed on a count of the mess he made was so bad and it stuck to the walls.

Those stains stayed there for two weeks. No word from him about the “maid” he promised to clean up the mess HE made.

Me (texting): “Hey. Can you please send that maid you said you were getting? Inspections are soon, and I don’t want to get fined”

Him (texting back): “Shahz wtf? Every time we go out, I take you to a nice fancy restaurant. On the rooftop. $100 meals. And you are upset about this??”

Wait what? He did that once. And may I say, people buying you expensive things/taking you nice places after they were mean to you- that’s emotional abuse.

Me: “Sorry”

I ended up hiring a maid myself. I saw an ad for one in my building. It was a guy’s cleaning company. I live alone in my apartment and was anxious about having a male stranger in my place, but it was my only choice. He had the most affordable rate.

Thankfully, he was a nice guy. He tried cleaning it and said the stains are so bad it won’t come out, and it will have to be painted.

My jaw dropped. But he offered to paint it for me and he did. $100 out of my savings. Gone.

And that was it. This happened right before Valentine’s day. I told “K” I took care of it and asked him if we will be taking me out for Valentine’s day. He said yes, and never showed up.

That is when I sent this text: “You know what. I can’t do this anymore. I’m loyal, I’m beautiful, and I’m smart. I deserve someone that will cherish that. Not someone that will make me beg and wait for his attention.”

And when he doesn’t respond, because he thinks he has more power than me, I decide I have more power. And I block him. On my phone, Snapchat, Facebook, and WhatsApp.

I haven’t had a “dating life” since.

Sure, I’ve been on several dates since then. But they haven’t lasted more than a week.

Because I am terrified.

After I realized what I had gone through was emotional abuse, I felt stupid.

I am better than this. I am stronger than this. I am smarter than this. I come from a good family.

This does not happen to girls like me. Girls like me don’t stay in relationships like this.

I should have known.

But I didn’t. I didn’t listen to my mom or brother who were the first people to notice “K’s” strange behavior.

And I feel bad.

I don’t want to declare a “dating life” until I have gone out with someone for more than 6 weeks. That’s my new rule.612923_xYm2zZKs

I am not sad. I am not hurt. I just want time.

The sad part about all of this is, these were just 4 incidents. There was an incident every time I saw him.

To many of you, I am like a little sister or daughter. The purpose of this post was not to make any of you sad or upset. It is so that you and anyone you love can understand the signs of emotional abuse. Because I missed those signs. And if people talked about it more often, I wouldn’t have.

With love,

Shaz

Your Letters Are Coming!

I plagiarized that title from Paul.

Okay friends, now that I am feeling better and 1 of my deadlines for work is out of the way- I am starting to write your letters! If you are just tuning in, check out A Letter to You!

Here are the people I got so far and the order I will be writing letters in.

1.) Paul 48c0cdaf179412087582a0a67c80eadd--more-love-letters-handwritten-letters

2.) Steven

3.) Asha

4.) Chris

5.) Aaron

6.) Meghan

7.) Kaiya

I look forward to writing you!!!

xoxo. S.

I Am Woman (Part 4)

So yesterday, I woke up with no cramps at all. I was excited to go out with my friends and catch the movie, “The Big Sick”. I am walking through my very crowded city that is full of Red Sox fans. When I get to the theater I see my friends looking frantic.

“What’s up guys?” I ask.

“IT’S SOLD OUT!” my friend Susan says.

“No way” I said.

“Look” she says pointing to the screen with all the movies. Holy moly. EVERY SINGLE MOVIE IS SOLD OUT.

Wow. I decided we would find something else to do. Some of my friends came from far away, so I couldn’t let them go home without doing anything!

We are sitting outside, with lots of Red Sox fans walking by and I’m reading reviews of local restaurants so we can choose one and go to it.

When all of sudden, a guy comes up to us. He doesn’t look like he’s from Boston, he looks like he needs directions.

“HI LADIES. SORRY TO INTERRUPT! But that’s my son over there, and he can’t stop looking at YOU!” he says pointing to me.

My eyes widen. And my friends look at me.

Of course Susan goes for it. “Isn’t she gorgeous?? She’s single!”

“Yes, she is beautiful!” the dad says. “Hey Jordan! Did you hear that? She’s single!” he says calling out to a shy boy who’s laughing.

I am mortified. But I stop searching restaurants. And take another look at Jordan. Jordan is fineeee.

“Hey Jordan!” I yell.

“Did you hear that? Hey Jordan!” the dad says with excitement. Jordan smiles.

Poor Jordan. He is taking it well but I can tell he’s mortified. He walks over to us and introduces himself.

We tell him where we’re going to school, and he says he just graduated from University of North Carolina and he’s going to physical therapy school soon. And that he and his family came up for the weekend to visit because they are originally from Boston.

“So why don’t you two exchange numbers?” his dad says.

Normally, I’d give a dude a fake number. But there’s something about Jordan. And thank goodness I keep my business card in my phone case where I can easily reach it.

“Here Jordan. Just take my card” his dad beams and so do my friends.

I hint to my friends we need to get going.

“It was nice meeting you ladies” his dad says. And then looking at me, “You are beautiful sweetheart. Take care” he says.

Uh huh yea okay bye. I gather my friends (who are howling obnoxiously at what just happened) and we walk to another street. I sit them down.

“OH MY GOD YOU GUYS WHAT WAS THAT?” I say.

“Didn’t we tell you you’re gorgeous?” our friend Bree says.

I roll my eyes. “Noooo guys. I have a date with Chris in a few days. And one with the med student next weekend. We don’t have time for Jordan!”

“Shhh Shahz. Live a little. This is the only age where you can get away with stuff like this” Susan says. I look at her and give her a sympathetic smile. Susan is 52. A very unique woman working on her third Master’s degree.

“Fine Susan. I’ll do it just for you. But only if Jordan texts!” I say.

“That’s my girl!” Susan says.

We all laugh and find a burger place after an hour (every place we went to was full of Red Sox fans!). We get burgers and cupcakes and we are talking about our jobs, guys, and school. When a random number texts me.

“Hey Shahz! It’s Jordan (from the street!)”

Oh my.

My eyes widen. All my friends look at me.

“I’m gonna wait a bit” I say.

“Good” Susan says. We all laugh.

When I get home I text Jordan back. Jordan says he’s leaving in the morning but would love to see me and if I would like to get a drink. I look at the clock. It’s 10:30. Okay….

30 minutes later Jordan and I are out like long lost friends and we are drinking mojitos (that he paid for). We compare similarities. He has to eat gluten free (like me), he majored in a science degree (like me), and he has a good personality (like me).

He says he got an A in anatomy (how dirty). I got a D in that class. I don’t believe him.

“Point to any muscle” he says.

I point to a part of my wrist.

“Easy. That’s the flexor carpi radialis muscle” he says.

My jaw drops.

I flex my muscle on my arm (that I have been lifting and working hard for).

“Okay what’s this?” I say pointing to it.

His jaw drops. “Damn girl! That’s a bicep!”

We both laugh.

It’s so late and the bar is closing so he walks me home.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

Jesus.

“Ummmm” I say.

“I won’t tell anyone” he says.

“You won’t tell anyone what?” I ask.

“That I kissed you” he says.

Wow Jordan, we have bigger problems! I am not this kind of woman.

But there was Jordan and me. Kissing. Great.

I feel terrible for judging “Prince Player” for doing stuff like this in college. There’s something fun about going out with someone without any promises or expectations of a serious relationship.

Especially when you have been feeling like a pregnant whale for 4 days.

Oy ve. I am woman.

xoxo. S.