Too Much. Not Enough.

I had big plans for 2020. This was supposed to be the year that I became a better version of me. Melissa 3.1. And then very slowly but seemingly all at once, the world stopped turning and now when we ask "how are you doing?", we mean it. 

My aspirations weren't too high. I was going to pay off the last of my student loans. Take solo cultural vacations. Start dating again. Take the GMAT. Lose that extra 10. Start writing again. 

I wanted to better myself. I wanted to BE better. 

Getting What You Deserve

One thing (probably the only thing) that's been consistent on my blog is honesty. I've always been transparent about how messy my life is and have avoided sugarcoating it. I think it's important to remember that the internet is full of filters and edits and everyone is hiding the ugly. I won't be sharing the following on social media because it doesn't seem appropriate but this is in many ways my online journal, so my thoughts live here. 

This is 30

I literally tried to write this post like seventeen times and kept pressing delete because it made me want to vom. I was trying too hard to not get emotional and it just made me sound like I was bragging about my birthday. Which, don't get me wrong, was definitely braggable but that's not why I'm here. Anyways. Unless you've muted me on all social media platforms, you may have noticed I recently turned 30. I had a difficult time with the milestone so posting about it incessantly on Instagram is how I coped - like the millennial I am. Big moments scare me. They make me feel like I'm not in control. Kind of like a roller coaster ride where you can see the huge drop coming up ahead but there's nothing you can do because you're strapped in. Life is about to change and you can't stop it. 

The After

*This is the original piece I submitted to Elite Daily which was then edited to fit their audience and published as "Going To Group Therapy After My Rape Helped Me Rebuild My Life."

The After. That's where the pain is. Everyone thinks it's in The During. But that's the easy part. In The During, you're in so much disbelief that you don't even get a chance to think about the pain. But in The After you have a lot of time. You have the rest of your life.

The Hard Stuff

I tend to write a lot about hard stuff. Some people find that depressing. But the simple truth is life is hard and it's even harder when people post their filtered lives on social media, airbrushing away all the very real pain that is surely there. I want to be honest here.

I live in New York City, a place many only dream of living and a place most can't. I have my own apartment and an amazing job. I'm in a healthy relationship. I have friends and family that would do anything for me. It would be very easy to only show you these parts of my life - the parts that aren't messy. But that's not reality.