HIMYM.

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All good things must come to an end. However, it never states that all good things must come to a good end. Tonight, How I Met Your Mother aired its series finale and unlike so many out there, I enjoyed the bittersweet ending. Of course, there were points that I absolutely hated, but ultimately endings are never perfect. And, when they are, we still hate them (take in account the happy Harry Potter epilogue people hated).

Although I felt affected by the romantic relationships between the characters, there were other issues that stood out to me. I think that most people gloss over the fact that friendship was a big part of this show. As much as it was about Ted meeting the Mother, it was about the friendship between the gang. It’s about how friendships come together, grow and eventually drift apart.

To me, the single most upsetting scene of that finale was when Robin tells Lily that they aren’t “the gang” anymore. I’m at the point in my life where I don’t know how my friendships will end. I don’t know when I won’t have my gang anymore. I understand that time zones, work, and eventually growing up will get in the way of many of the friendships I’ve forged in the past 19 years. We no longer share every big moment together, or have the gang together for everything. It happens slowly, then all at once, and suddenly, things have dissolved. It’s terrifying, but it’s true.

I think often we get angry when shows reflect the fears we have, when they reflect the future that may happen, when they reflect real life. Things don’t and will never end perfectly. The only thing that keeps us from going crazy is to have enough faith that things will turn out okay. If HIMYM has taught me one thing, it’s to have faith in the things you love. Whether it be a dream you love or a person, you must have faith in it.

Ted always had faith that he would find the Mother, and he did. He got his chance with his soulmate, but it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t get a second chance with another. Sometimes, we’re so set with only having one person be perfect for us. If only things were that simple. People change, they evolve. In different times of our lives, different people may become our soul mates. I’m not saying you can’t stick with one person if you’ve found the one, but I don’t think you should be robbed of love or happiness if they leave (willingly or unwillingly). Love is messy and love is scary, but love should never be limited.

Another thing is that people can fall out of love but still love each other. I think it’s a common misconception that people fall in love forever just because we see a snippet of them in a time where they are deeply in love. That can change. Before you call me out for being bitter and evil, hear me out. Often, we only see people fall in love because naturally humans see it as a beautiful wonder of life. We tend to ignore how ugly love can be. People fall out of love all the time, but it doesn’t mean that love still isn’t there. Once you love someone, you always will (even if it’s so minuscule that you don’t even realize it’s there). Nothing more, nothing less. People leave marks you cannot erase.

Reality is never quite as comforting as we’d like it to be. Life isn’t perfect. I wish fairytale endings were less rare, but as Ron Weasley once said, “Oh well, what’s life without a few dragons?”

Bloody hell and best wishes,

Robin

Santa Cruz.

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“And it’s funny, in a moment like that, when what’s really happening is too intense to deal with, sometimes it’s best to leave it unspoken and just enjoy each others company instead.”

It’s almost been two years since I’ve made the big move to the East Coast. After spending most of my 19 years basking in the California sun and being swooped by the San Francisco fog, I decided that I had enough. I wanted out, and I wanted out pretty bad. I remember multiple occasions during my senior year where I literally wanted to be anywhere but home. I had enough of my small pink room covered in an array of boy band posters. I had enough of being in a small town that was encased in some sort of unbreakable bubble. I had enough.

At least I thought I did.

It’s funny how wrong one can be sometimes. Maybe wrong isn’t the right word. It’s more like unappreciative. I found that there were so many things I didn’t appreciate when I was home. One of those things was the beach. Before we go any further into this conversation, let me clear one thing up. I do not surf. I repeat, I do not surf. If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me that questions, then I would have enough money to own a bunny farm (how much does that cost anyways?). Now, back to the beach.

I love the beach. I know, how surprising for a person from California to love the beach. But, I really actually do love it and I don’t think I realized it until it wasn’t a twenty minute drive from me anymore. This past weekend I went to Santa Cruz and got to have quite a nice experience at the beach. There’s something so calming about hearing ocean waves and breathing in the salty air. I think I could stand for hours and just have the waves wash on to the shore and crash into my feet. To have my feet mold into the sand and when the waves recede, find a lonely piece of seaweed tangled around my ankles. I’ve even grown to love the waves that rush in stronger than expected and leave splash marks, as if to claim you as their own. In ways, it’s like being embraced in a tight hug when you need one most, even though you thought you didn’t need it.

I think this is why my belief that everyone at some point in their life must move away from home. You have to leave the nest in order to want to fly back, or to understand why you never want to again. I took all that for granted. But, it wasn’t just California beaches I took for granted. In fact, the list can go on and on. Things like driving, my mom’s homemade soup, and being able to walk around my house with no pants on; I didn’t realize all these things were privileges that I was lucky to have.   

Another thing to add to that list is friendship. When I went to Santa Cruz this past weekend, I had the chance to hang out with two good friends of mine. We joked around, insulted one another, and there was a certain light heartedness in the air. It wasn’t until then did I realize why for the past few months when I was applying to internships, I was hoping that I could find one at home. It wasn’t for the free housing or free food (okay, maybe a little). It was because I really missed the people. My people.

Before you assume that I don’t have any friends back in the East Coast, I promise I do (really! stalk me on Facebook if you don’t believe me). But, now my college friends are the ones I see everyday and in some cases, live with. Suddenly, my home friends weren’t the ones I saw everyday. I couldn’t even get sick of their faces anymore. They were becoming less so, “my people.” And, that’s okay. That’s what change is, that’s what growth is. But, this doesn’t mean that I don’t want them in my life anymore. They just fit into my life a little differently.

I’ve come to understand that my friendships at home aren’t the same as they were in high school anymore. In some aspects they are. We still tease each other and I will always be group mom. But, other things have changed. There’s an unspoken gratefulness we have for one another. We’ve come to understand that we won’t always have each other for long. We know that when we’re reunited, time won’t be on our side. It may only be a couple hours and if we’re really lucky, a couple months. We know that sometimes we won’t know when the next time we’ll see one another is. We’ve come to realize that it doesn’t matter. What matters is that we’re grateful for the time we have to enjoy each others company.

Bloody hell and best wishes,

Robin

Decisions.

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Going through a breakup is never easy. Period. What I didn’t realize is that watching other people go through a breakup isn’t so easy either. Especially when it’s parallel to something you’ve experienced seven months earlier. It hits just a little too close to home. Way too fucking close. We automatically want to find someone, something or just anything to blame. In the heat of the moment, the easiest person to blame is always the other party. You’re fueled by the anger of your friends and your own frustrations.

“He was never good to you.”

“She should of tried harder.”

“It was totally their fault.”

But, then the initial shock begins to wear off and we’re left with our thoughts wandering aimlessly. We try to rethink the whole situation and pin point when and why it went all wrong. My brain comes to the conclusion that somewhere along the line, I messed up. That thought haunts me for longer than I’m proud to admit. It’s as simple as that, I messed up.

I find that when you try to express that opinion to your friends, they usually slam back harder with fingers pointed at your ex. I can’t exactly blame for them doing so. You’ve been hurt and they want someone to pay for it, to blame. Of course it can’t be your fault. To them you’re flawless, can do no harm intentionally, and your ex is clearly the monster. This approach is all too familiar.

However, what if there’s no one to blame? I wish I could say that I came to this conclusion sooner than I did. It’s taken me some time, but I’ve put my pride aside, mustered up some courage and have come to the conclusion that sometimes no one is at fault. That’s right ladies and gents, it’s no one’s fault.

No one. Not one single person.

I know, what a crazy concept to be throwing out into the wild world we live in. Just because we can come to that conclusion, doesn’t always mean that we accept it. It can take us days, weeks, or even months to finally accept that no one is at fault. The skeptics out there will question me as to why, so, I’ll try my best to answer.

The first thing on my list to address is the fact that people change on their own. Feelings can change on their own. It might not actually really be anyone’s fault. Decisions are made to keep people together or to have them fall apart. The only problem with that is sometimes we don’t notify people of our decisions. Sometimes we don’t even notify ourselves. Thoughts in our minds start to develop subconsciously and then by the time we’re conscious of them, we’re scared shitless to confront our choices. And that’s unfair. In fact, no only is it unfair, it’s pretty damn rude.

It is only at that point can we actually put some blame onto them. We should not blame them for the decisions they make, but rather for not notifying the people they affect of their decisions. If there are doubts, even a sliver of it, man (or woman) up and say it out loud. Your fear has consequences that you will not have to suffer. The backlash of your fear will leave scars on someone else that may take longer than expected to heal.

The second thing to address is that people have different definitions of what it is to love someone or be in a relationship or be a decent human being. We may come to the conclusion that maybe the things we want with our significant other isn’t what they want. And that’s okay. I believe that a lot of the times a relationship comes to a fork in the road where we decide whether we continue to grow together or we grow apart. At times that fork may come years into the relationship and at other times it comes weeks into it. We don’t choose when it happens, it just happens.

The last and final thing that I’d like to address is that frustration and anger blinds us. It makes us feel an unwanted wrath that we have no clue where to place. I’ve heard the phrase “it’s not you its me” or “I just don’t know what I want right now” thrown around like soccer balls on a field. I find that many people seem to take these phrases and translate them to “it’s me not you” and “I just don’t want you right now”. What I’ve come to realize is that maybe when they say “it’s not you its me” or “I just don’t know what I want right now”, that’s actually what they might mean. They don’t know what they want. You know what you want. That doesn’t make it anybody’s fault.

People hurt people. People make bad decisions. People get scared. We shouldn’t let these actions define who they are and most of all we shouldn’t let their actions define who we are.

I will admit, I was angry for very long time. I was upset. I felt as if I had been blindfolded with affection and care, only to see that it’s true form was fear and deceit. However, every situation is as I make it. I can choose to see my exes as evil and conniving people who caused me nothing but harm. Or, I can choose to see them as people who were confused and afraid. I can say that they brought me nothing but pain and misery. Or, I can say that they taught me more about love and relationships than I could ever learn on my own. I can say that it was their fault completely. Or, I can say that in the end, no one is to blame.

Bloody hell and best wishes,

Robin

 

Letters.

(I mean how could I resist using this gif. I love both letters and Ryan Gosling.)

From the age of six to ten, I communicated with my best friend through owl post. Yes, owl post. This was the time in my life where I played and embodied my childhood hero (and still hero today), Harry Potter. My best friend played the part of Ron Weasley and twice a week we exchanged letters. They started off on plain white sheets of paper, then we upgraded to homemade tea stained wrinkled stationary, and then we stopped writing letters. It wasn’t because we stopped being friends, letters were just getting replaced. Instead we spent hours on our landlines in our middle school days and eventually moved onto texting when we reached high school.

We evolved and so did our means of communication. Most days I don’t mind it. I enjoy the fact that I can reach a loved one who lives 3,000 miles away in less than three seconds. It keeps us connected. But connected in what sense? Everything is instant. Instant messaging, instant gratification…instant love? It’s confusing because I don’t know whether this instant messaging translates the same message, the same feelings as handwritten work does.

There’s something about having a conversation on paper that’s different about having one on a screen. Not only is there more time put into the process, there’s more time put into the thought. At least for myself there is. I have to make a conscious effort to sit myself down, and take a moment out of my day to write something in my horrible handwriting. Often, I find myself saying things that I wouldn’t normally text a person. In fact, a lot of what I write about are the things I’m too ashamed to admit to someone face to face. To me, it’s so hard to have to say something that will tear down my pride but to write it out is something different. It’s easy. I think it’s because you don’t have that automatic response. There’s no time stamp on your thinking. There’s no person immediately analyzing or criticizing how you feel or what you feel. You don’t have to be on defense.

I like that I can write down everything I want to, seal it up nicely, send it off and not think about it until I get a letter in my mailbox. Now, I know those days are done and gone. I know that a fancy scripted “I love you” has turned into “ILY.” I mean I’m young, I’m hip. I’m just a bit upset that I’ll never receive a love letter in the mail. As much as I fall in love with a face, I fall in love with words. Maybe it’s because I’m a writer, but I hold a lot of worth in words. To fall in love with someone because of what they say, and only what they say, is impressive.

With that said, I don’t disregard the relationships I have now just because they are based on technology. The conversations I’ve had, the emotions I’ve felt, the relationships I’ve built; they’re all real. They all matter. It’s just that once in awhile it might be good for us to step away from our screens and enrich our lives with some good old fashioned letter writing. It’s healthy to take some time to think, to write, and to maybe fall in love a little.

Bloody hell and best wishes,

Robin

Davis.

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If you’ve ever read Harry Potter (which honestly you should have by now), there is a conversation that takes place between Harry and Ginny where Harry says the following line: “It’s been like… like something out of someone else’s life, these last few weeks with you.” This line has stuck with me over the years, not only because of the iconic scene it’s a part of, but because it resonates with what it is to be human. At one point or another, everyone feels that there’s a period (or periods) in their lives that seems as if it belongs to a parallel universe. And though they’ve had the the experience, it’s sort of unbelievable that it’s theirs to keep.

I’ve felt this way on many occasions. Most of the time it’s during relationships, in those moments where despite the madness of life, bliss is found. When I look back on periods of time like that, I really do feel as if the memories aren’t mine. That the life that played out there must of belonged to somebody else. I usually don’t realize these things until the moment has passed and is tucked away in the cracks of my memories, slowly collecting dust. However, these past five days have been different.

I traveled up to Davis (aka cow country) to spend some quality time with some people that I deem my best friends, and ones that over the past year have graciously extended their companionship to me. I ate with them, I biked with them (and failed tremendously, somehow hurting my lady parts in the process), I partied with them, I lived with them. And for five days, I felt as if I was living someone else’s life. I couldn’t help but think that if I had gotten into Davis and chosen to go there, then this is what it would be like.

This idea brought me as much joy as it did confusion. I was overjoyed to be somewhere that welcomed me so easily and effortlessly. On the other hand being at Davis was like seeing a snippet of a life that I could of led but I didn’t. I can best compare it to seeing a trailer of a movie but never being able to watch the whole movie. In no way am I saying that Boston was the wrong choice. In all honesty what bothers me the most is that I don’t know if I want more of what I have or more of what I can’t have. I’m constantly torn between missing the life that I lead (and could lead) so comfortably at home and the one that I sometimes struggle so hard to lead in Boston. It is difficult to submerge yourself into two drastically different lives without feeling a bit lost.

So, once again I’m feeling bit lost. This isn’t the panicky-don’t-know-what-to-do-with-my-life lost. Oddly, it’s more of a calm lost. I know it’s there. I know I don’t know the answers yet. I know I don’t need to anytime soon. These periods of our lives that don’t seem as if they belong to us feel that way because we haven’t figured out where they go in the grand scheme of things yet. They haven’t had the chance to be woven into our story, and some may just be lost in the cracks of our brains forever. I have yet to bridge the gap between my two lives but I’m in no hurry. For now, I’ll continue to watch the trailers until I can piece it all into a movie.

Bloody hell and best wishes,

Robin

All Adventurous Women Do.

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Yes that is real. Yes that is my leg.

There’s only a couple more days to until 2014 is upon us, so that can only mean one thing: new year resolutions. I would be a liar if I said that I don’t try (and fail) every year to come up with resolutions. I’ve attempted the typical ones like do more exercise or get better grades (ha! that’s hilarious). With every resolution it’s pretty disappointing to see them fail by St. Patrick’s Day, if not sooner. Therefore, these past couple of years I’ve stopped making resolutions. I’ve given up on the idea and instead focused on one thing.

Every year I want to be happier than the last. Simple as that, no strings attached. I just want to be happy. It seems silly to want something so simple, but when you really think about it, happiness isn’t something that is achieved as easily as the fairy tales make it to be. Happiness is pretty fucking hard. In all honesty, I don’t know if I’ve achieved that every single year. Despite that downfall, I know that I’ve become wiser, kinder, and sometimes a bit more bitter.

I’ve learned that life doesn’t always turn out how you imagined it, or even how you desperately want it to be. But, if I’ve learned anything at all, it’s that all adventurous women do (or men if you prefer that). This past year has taught me that lesson very well. If 2012 was the year of acceptance, then 2013 was the year of rejection. I can’t even begin to count the amount of times I’ve been knocked down. From getting heartbroken to rejected from my study abroad program to being ignored by an employer, I’ve had my fair share of obstacles. And sometimes it’s hard to see the light when you’ve fallen into a 50 ft hole. On the other hand, you can’t quite get out of that hole if you don’t start climbing. So, I’ve been climbing and I’m starting to see the light.

I don’t know what 2014 will bring. Nothing is guaranteed and sometimes the best plan is to have no plan. What I do know is that this year I’ll be braver. After all, all adventurous women do.

Bloody hell and best wishes,

Robin

P.S. Since this is my last post before the new year, I’d like to wish you all a happy new year and thanks for reading my rambling thoughts for almost a whole year (or however long you’ve stuck with me).

Thankful.

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Today is a Thanksgiving to be remembered. Although it’s only been about two hours since Thanksgiving has begun, this one is one that will go down in the books. As always, I’m thankful for the usual things. Family, friends, food, shelter; things that humans need in order to be happy. But, this Thanksgiving I’m especially thankful for love.

This past year has and hasn’t been one of the greatest years for love. I started the first half finding new love. It was the kind where you get flustered and nervous. The kind where your happiness shines through and you feel giddy. I had gotten my heart torn apart before and honestly, I stopped believing in that feeling for awhile and it was nice to have it back. I learned that love will come from unexpected people and that falling in love isn’t such a bad thing (I can vouch it’s much better than having your heartbroken). Alas, before I could dive in too deep, things ended quite abruptly. Suddenly, love was gone and I was bitter. I don’t even think it was the person I was mad but, rather I was angry at love. I was angry that I could let it dictate my life so easily and I was angry that it left so quickly.

The past five months have been a lot about recovery. It was relearning to mend things again, sewing up the pieces (I really do wish I could sew well in real life). Somehow it’s so much easier to help people fix what’s broken then to fix what you’ve got broken. It’s hard but, I’d like to think I’ve succeeded just a bit. I’ve stopped being bitter. I’ve stopped blaming myself as much. I’ve stopped trying to build a wall for protection, when all it’s ever been is destruction. Now, I swear I have a point to all of this sappy talk.

Tonight, one of my closest friends confessed that he liked me. I’ve known this boy for years and I’m still trying to absorb what has happened. I wish that I could be graceful with my words in person and let him down with grace. Instead, a lot of stammering and head shaking happened. So, here’s my one and only chance to be graceful.

You know who you are and what you mean to me. I’ve burdened you with boy troubles, asked you for fashion advice, and given you shit for the longest time. You are and always have been one of the kindest people I’ve ever had the chance to meet. I want you to know that I boast about your good nature and, whenever girls complain that there are no good guys left – I point to you. You’re a good guy and one day you’ll be making some very pretty lady happy (just not me – sorry bro). I want to be the first one to hear about the girl you fall in love with. I want to be at your wedding to make an embarrassing toast in front of your wife. I want to be aunt Robin to your kids. You should know that you’ve taught me a very different kind of love. It’s never been a romantic sort of love but, it has never failed to be giving, grateful, and generous.

So, this Thanksgiving I’m thankful for love. I’m thankful for the varying forms that love comes in. I’m thankful that I have so many people to love and people who love me.

Bloody hell and best wishes,

Robin