Year 28


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Birthdays are always nostalgic, but let’s be honest, it takes very little to tip me into nostalgia.

If I had to pick a theme, I’d say year 27 was about unfinished business; I finished what I had started (#lawyered) and it was all very, very business.  

Undoubtedly, the biggest accomplishment of year 27 was being finally admitted to the legal profession. A journey that started well over the 1418 days ago when I arrived to Australia to start law school.

I have set a different intention for Year 28; Year 28 is about beginnings, balance and beauty.

The beginning of new goals, new relationships, new adventures.

Finding balance between creating the life I want and enjoying the life I have created.

And recognizing the beauty in all of the above.



Borrowed Words: E. Gilbert 

I was suffering the easily foreseeable consequences. Addiction is the hallmark of every infatuation-based love story. It all begins when the object of your adoration bestows upon you a heady, hallucinogenic dose of something you never dared to admit you wanted-an emotional speedball, perhaps, of thunderous love and roiling excitement. Soon you start craving that intense attention, with a hungry obsession of any junkie. When the drug is witheld, you promptly turn sick, crazy, and depleted (not to mention resentful of the dealer who encouraged this addiction in the first place but now refuses to pony up the good stuff anymore– despite the fact that you know he has it hidden somewhere, goddamn it, because he used to give it to you for free). Next stage finds you skinny and shaking in a corner, certain only that you would sell your soul or rob your neighbors just to have ‘that thing’ even one more time. Meanwhile, the object of your adoration has now become repulsed by you. He looks at you like you’re someone he’s never met before, much less someone he once loved with high passion. The irony is,you can hardly blame him. I mean, check yourself out. You’re a pathetic mess,unrecognizable even to your own eyes. So that’s it. You have now reached infatuation’s final destination– the complete and merciless devaluation of self. ― Elizabeth Gilbert

Quote of the day

I don’t know if you’ve ever felt like that. That you wanted to sleep for a thousand years. Or just not exist. Or just not be aware that you do exist. Or something like that. I think wanting that is very morbid, but I want it when I get like this. That’s why I’m trying not to think. I just want it all to stop spinning.

Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Pleaser’s Paradox

We say “yes” to others at the expense of ourselves because we are ‘unable’ to say “no.”


The fear of losing love? Fear of disappointing others? The need to be ever present? Ever available? To prove one’s value/worth? To retain some sort of control? To avoid our own lives? 

We suffocate our self/best interest because, the idea of saying “yes” to yourself– especially if it means saying “no” to others, is unnerving.

Why does me > you?

Are we not meant to help others? Are we not meant to serve a higher purpose then ourselves? Selflessness is a virtue, right? 

Or, is saying yes to others more  self-serving/preservation?

Saying yes to oneself is to take accountability for one’s life; one’s happiness. With this comes responsibility:

Who will we have to blame for our unhappiness? 
Perhaps it is easier to live a life of servitude, a ‘victim’ of circumstance then take accountability for our own lives, but is that not a choice we make? 

Perhaps it is easier for me to help you achieve your goals then to pursue mine, because if I pursue mine and fail… How will I live with that? That’s far too heavy a burden to carry. But if I help with yours, I can console myself, “I couldn’t follow my dreams because I was helping him/her pursue theirs.” 

Let me say yes to you because I’m afraid of saying yes to myself? Or, let me say no to myself because it’s easier then saying no to you?

If that’s the case, is there even such a thing as people pleasing? I please you because it pleases me to do so. I serve you because I want to or because I don’t want to serve myself. 

So, who are we really pleasing?