Monthly Archives

September 2016

#BrokenRelationships; Because Our Feelings Are Important!

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img_6061We didn’t plan it; it just was the day we could all get together. It just so happened to be my late grandfather’s birthday. So it was ironic for my aunt and me to take my grandmother to The Museum of Broken Relationships on a day that would indefinitely remind us all of him.  My grandmother and grandfather got divorced after 30 years of marriage. She could arguably be the patron saint of broken relationships.  It was not a mutual decision.  I am sure that they both loved each other in their own flawed way up until the day he died. We recently found letters that my grandfather sent her. She wrote in-between his declaration of love; words that reminded her of why their relationship did not work. These are now destroyed.

Every relationship that ends leaves pieces that are difficult for many to let go of and some that are downright impossible to keep while starting a new relationship (I’m talking to you; women who keep stuffed teddy bears from exes).  People flock to Burning Man to burn things in effigy but if that is not your style, the Museum of Broken Relationships may be the answer.

The Museum is located in Los Angeles on Hollywood Boulevard. Not only do they display these past trophies of sentimental value, but they take donations and display the collection anonymously. Each display holds its own story. There were collections of mixed tapes, bras, and even an engagement ring.  One display (silicone breast implants) is a good reminder to never alter one’s body for someone else. Another of old cologne bottles, a painful reminder that some relationships are broken by death and not a mutual parting. A stuffed Betty Boop doll from a same-sex co-worker who received the gift from a crush. She knew that her crush was heterosexual and an intimate relationship would never work. 20160823_155315

So, if you have been holding on to the past and do not know where to start to let go, you can donate your memories to the museum. I have not had any bad breakups. The only thing I consider is a small stuffed dragon that I took when I moved from my mother’s home. My mom and I have never been close. I took the dragon in hopes that one day we could mend and have a meaningful mother and daughter relationships that are the scripts for movies. Alas, I have found that there are so many other relationships that mean more to me because of those willing to work together. My aunts, cousins, friends and anyone who invests time in a relationship. I still have that stuffed dragon, and know I should let it go.

One of the most  powerful donations is a tiny piece of paper with the words “Pay attention to me” written on it. It was donated by an artist who’s former girlfriend slipped him the piece of paper but he was too busy to look. It took him two years to find it. In a world of #Selfies, let us strive to love more often, forgive more often, and “pay attention” to those who matter the most.20160823_153551

Click The Museum of Broken Relationships for more information.

Thank you for reading,

-La Vida Verde

Back to Basics

By | Baby Jade, Blog | No Comments

Erratically put together, is a badge I wear with honor. I accredit my new bio description to my therapy sessions. Mainly journaling. Growing up the middle child (middle child syndrome is real yall) I needed to find avenues to vent my constant frustration and faux vengeful thoughts. I did everything from eat my feelings, to playing an instrument, to drowning my thoughts in endless hours of mindless T.V. (welcome to the 90’s). Listened to angry grunge music; “Smells Like Teen Spirit” was my anthem. Finally, because I’d exhausted every other option, I started to write. What did I write? Anything. Everything. It didn’t matter so long as it stayed true to my thoughts and feelings at that moment. Honest. Raw.

After my first entry, I felt calm. Thinking it was a fluke, I didn’t write again until the next time I needed to get something off my chest. Elated once again. Thus a pattern began. I began to live for my writing sessions. But now I looked forward to writing not just about the bad but about the good, the mediocre, the boring, my crush(es), you name it!

The greatest part was that I didn’t actually understand the growth that was happening to me until many years later when I’d go back and read my entries. Writing became my therapy. It was the way I’d cope with major moments in my life. There’s something to be said about being able to write out feelings before confronting the problem.
So! As a part of my overall self-remodeling, I’m going back to basics. Picked up this beauty at Target and ready to channel my inner Bridget Jones. #shenanigrams

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Xo, B

Forty & Fabulous? #thestruggleisreal

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Happy Birthday to me…. even though I am not where I would want to be. Certainly not where I thought I would be when I was a teenager, but that’s not a good or bad thing. When I was in high school, I thought that I would be living abroad somewhere with lots of kids. Instead, I have had a horrible year and it was made worse by some jerk infertility doctor who thought it was his personal mission to make me feel like shit; by not being able to get pregnant on my own by harping on my age despite my medical numbers. Nope, this was definitely not a good year. So leaving 39 to go to 40 seems like a death sentence. #Adultingishard

I completed my bachelor’s degree, had 5 failed Intrauterine Inseminations, and have had a difficult time transitioning from massage therapist into communications. I had a miscarriage three years ago that another doctor waited over 5 months to treat. My husband and I have male infertility factors to deal with but all this doctor seemed to do was bash my age. I have no kids, my family has gone from fighting to avoiding each other, and my magic 8 ball says “outlook not so good.” Being hard on myself is a talent and I can take being a Negative Nancy to a professional level. We all have some bad years and 39 just seems to be mine, but there are no do-overs. And I keep feeling helpless and lost.

school(Me going to Catholic School and I am still just as vulnerable as that day.)

But this blog is not just about me, it’s about the pressure that society puts on women. I could be a cheerleader for any woman in my situation and tell that particular doctor to take a flying leap, but I cannot seem to tell myself this. The truth is that I am in way better shape and health now than I was for the last five years. I have been going to the gym, eating clean, and trying to stress less. Newsflash Dr. Dickhead, this is why women get pregnant now after 40. We learn to treat ourselves better. I have a wonderful support team of friends and have met some of the most fabulous women this year, many over forty who are just all inspirational! I don’t want to grow old, I want to blossom at every age. Women like Betty White, Helen Mirren, Carrie Fisher, Queen Latifah, Tina Fey, and Amy Poehler — these women are ROCKING no matter what age they are!

People say “Forty is the new, thirty” and I have to disagree. Forty is a stage of life that is going to be just as important as your teen years, your twenties, your thirties. Both of my grandmothers are alive and still seek the latest fashion. Age has not changed their desire to look fabulous. Their children are grown and both of my grandfathers have passed away, but they are still putting on makeup and dressing fashionably. Life has ups and downs. This bad year is coming to an end. We don’t count our worth by our waist size so why our age? Life is a journey and age is just another unimportant measurement. We’re still learning to fly at forty.

Thank you for reading,

La Vida Verde