I haven’t posted in eons. Ah, so goes the ways of my tumblr :]
Life changes so drastically. I never would have see myself the way I am now. I mean, high school Crystal would have laughed and thought I was some hippy dippy loser. However, its current me, looking back and shaking my head in disapproval.
I guess its time to come clean. This is my side of the story, my feelings, my confessions. Why am I writing all this at 4:30am? Well…. because I feel like I owe it to myself (and those that I love) to clear the air.
Recently, I started a relationship with someone who was a complete stranger to me. We’ll call him… M. M and I never really knew each other in high school. Or… thats what I thought. The truth is, I didn’t know him… however, he’d heard more than enough rumors about me; he just didn’t lead me to believe he had heard those terrible things. The first time I figured it out, I cried. I cried uncontrollably. I cried because I didn’t think that things in high school mattered. I knew M wouldn’t start this relationship based off of rumors, but it stung, a lot.
After taking some time to really think things through, I realized, no. I’m not a perfect person. I’ve had my share of rocky pasts, but who hasn’t? I don’t care anymore. This is my side of the story. In no way could I ever justify everything I did, but this does offer some insight into my mind.
Before I moved to California, I was a nobody. Well no. I was an overachieving nobody; sports, student council, honors classes, all that jazz. But I never felt like anyone liked me.
I recall my sweet sixteen. I invited all my friends. My parents put a ton of time and effort into letting me have this party and I was so excited. A lot of people showed up, but things were off. Apparently, J and C came to my party… drunk. I didn’t even know. I feel so foolish and pathetic looking back on it now. Like…. why did I have this desperate need to be accepted by others? I felt used and dirty.
I honestly don’t recall how I behaved back then, but I knew I was desperate to fit in. I still remember that huge pathetic fight with my so-called “friends” It was a lot of he said, she said and a lot of blame being thrown around. I don’t think I even remember how it all started, but I knew it sucked. I remember my “best friend” sending me such long and hateful messages about how nobody liked me and how I was a terrible friend. Maybe I was. I really don’t know. But, I did spiral down this long tunnel of depression and need for approval. It didn’t help that the boy I liked basically stopped texting me when I moved to Palo Alto.
The first couple weeks, I avoided people. Simply because I was too down on myself to think that other people would want to spend time with me. I spent the majority of my lunches alone, in front of the library, just wishing the last bell would ring and I could leave and be alone.
Throughout time, I heard these rumors. That I was such a party girl. How I drank so much. Honestly, I had my first drink at the age of 16. I was so fed up with people’s ideas of me that I just said “fuck it, if they’re gonna think that, then thats what I’ll do” (Kind of a Emma Stone moment in Easy A)
I drank every weekend. Three days in a row. I was never CRAZY out of control, but I did some things I wish I could take back. I spent most of the summer bs-ing my college prep classes to sneak out and drink. I’m sure the things I did only solidified those rumors people heard.
In the midst of my debauchery, I was actually at my loneliest. Although I was constantly surrounded by people, I was terribly alone. Slowly, that loneliness manifested into a monster. I was craving attention. I just wanted to notice. And at that time, I realized, hey, boys will give me attention.
That was when I sunk to an all time low. I put all things aside to find someone, just that ONE person, who would care about me. I chased them, guy after guy. Each time, deeply disappointed when I realized I was nothing more to him than a fun time. I craved love and compassion, and instead I was seen as nothing more than “Friends with benefits.” I was easy to get, and thus, easy to forget. With each guy, my self esteem and self respect dropped a little more.
Again, the rumor mill started. Probably the most common thing I heard was how many guys I slept with. I never had sex with anyone in high school. I could barely look myself in the mirror, how could I let anyone else see me in such a vulnerable state?
Anyway, yes, some rumors are partially true. I drank and tried to match myself with an identity. I am not proud of the person I used to be. Not in the least. I was a sad and pathetic child. I’m pretty sure you psych majors out there could pinpoint my issues, but I’ve already got a pretty good idea.
By the time senior year rolled around, I had still not straightened out. Instead, I fell for him. We’ll call him A. I fell for A because well… I can’t remember. Maybe it was the thrill of the chase. How he was kind of “taken” at the time. Maybe I was just running away from the fact that I didn’t know what I wanted to do after graduation. It was an escape from having to face the truth; my terrible grades and failing social life. So I clung onto him.
Months later, I was even deeper in a grave I was digging for myself. I had cut more classes than I attended. My grades were mostly F’s and I didn’t know what to do. I confided in him that I loved him. Oh young love. How naive I was. He laughed and I ran again from the things that hurt me most.
Fortunately, I turned to art. I would spend hours in the studio. Painting, drawing, learning; an escape.
The day I got my acceptance letters, I was overjoyed. Otis, Parsons, CCA and Pratt! Each with varying scholarships and bright futures. In another desperate attempt to flee from my fears, I trekked out to Brooklyn, NY. As far as I could get from Palo Alto. I cut off practically all ties (with a few exceptions) and began my new life as an art student.
From that point on, I started to realize I needed to change.
I experimented and began to figure out who I was and what made me happy.
To this day, I feel like I still don’t know exactly who I am, but I know I am happy. To be happy, I have to love myself enough to learn from the past and not let it anchor me down. I have to love myself enough to not be scared of making mistakes. In order for me to love anyone else and for anyone else to love me, I have to love myself; flaws and all.
Honestly, I’m not scared of my past, nor am I ashamed. I just don’t want my past actions to hurt the person I love the most. I don’t want the rumors from 4 years ago, to be a crack in the foundation of our relationship now. I admit to my muddy past and my flawed ways. Some people’s dirty laundry have a way of staying hidden, whereas mine were pretty much hung out to dry. Nothing I do now will ever change the past. Its already gone. But I can grow and mature. I will never let my fears control me, nor will I let self hate lead my life. I will do everything I can to be a better person and I will fight for us non-stop.
I love you so much my hunky nugget. This was not only for me, but for us as well. Cheers~
Love always. Yijubear
- New York Magazine: Did you ever try any acid or psychedelic drugs to prepare for Taking Woodstock?
- Demetri Martin: No, I have all these food allergies, so I’ve tried very few things in my life. I’m afraid of getting high and being like, "I don’t care what kind of sandwich this is!" And then people are all like, "How’d he die? Well, he got high and couldn’t resist a peanut butter and jelly sandwich."
Saturday Night Live; S31E19 Kevin Spacey
So I heard a lot of hype about the Revlon lip butters and the Babylips. Both are kinda meh. I mean they’re balms so they wear off pretty easily but the Maybelline one has such a chemical fruit scent that its too overpowering.
Sephora haul was mostly stuff on sale that I thought would be fun to play with
Benefit was just restocking on what I ran out of :]