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Wednesday, May 21, 2025

The Thing About Limerence

*Trigger Warner: self harm

For every person I loved (romantically), it was rarely found to be recipicated. 

From Tyler in elementary, to Cody in High School, my intense crushes were more than a compulsion-they were my reason to live. Whether it was getting through a school or work day, seeing that one person for just a minute revived me. Meticulously I'd recollect images of their divine presence; the way their hair framed their chiseled faces or toes interlocked sent immediate shockwaves of serotonin and oxytocin. I took note of it all. 

I humorously dubbed myself Helga from Hey, Arnold! knowing my compulsions revealed a darker side of me. I projected bitterness. Audibly showing disgust to disguise the immense damage inside. If I looked forward to seeing "my love" I didn't have to think about home...or how I wanted to end it all.  

It wasn't until my 30's that I learned about limerence. It was the perfect definition to my years of profound aches. Self harm became my solution when I'd see the "love of my life" with someone else- harm ranging from cutting, to fat phobia. It was never because I felt I belonged to my crush, despite my longing to be. I rarely felt good enough to. 

Home life had already given birth to animosity for life. Not knowing my biological father and a neglectful mother, exacerbated the belief that no one truly wanted me. Core beliefs of feeling inadequate to hold another's attention long enough to validate my self-worth. This translated to subconsciously falling for those "out of reach"- ranging from the popular drummer boy at youth group to animated characters like The Once-ler. My heart screamed the words my mind couldn't quite put a finger on. 

Who I was to grab their attention? To make them smile? To make them stay?

This past year I've emerged from another limerence chamber that had my soul in hibernation for years. 

It's not enough for me to compliment your frame, I want to breath you in. 

Limerence had me going from running to the window to watch the person drive away, to having full blown panic attack when they made new friends. I bawled for hours when a therapist said: "Remember when they leave, they're not leaving you."

It wasn't enough for me to be in your presence, I wanted to engulf you. 

Anxiety was nothing new. I remember nights feeling like a cinder block was heaped upon my chest due to the monstrous loneliness. Years of therapy, education, and different friend groups have helped me better understand myself... To take pride in my power and focus on moment right in front of me (i.e: grounding exercises).

It wasn't until after graduating seminary did I learn about the World Health Organization and about the world's first Sex Institute destroyed by the Nazis. The human sexual experience is fascinating, but our puritan culture has white-washed as well. Insights from Rob Bell, BrenĂ© Brown, and Emily Nagoski helped me during my transition out of black & white thinking encased by my evangelical theology. 

My limerence got worse because I was in the dark about many things...1) that I had BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) 2) being on the autism spectrum can bring communication difficulties -(i.e being bold and direct challenged my weak demeanor) 3) obsessive compulsions can be overcome through different strategies such urg surfing and replacement therapy; it's a lie to believe I'll always be this way.

Religion taught me punishing myself was a sign that I truly loved Jesus. The evangelical culture harps upon God being so intensely in love with us that only an ungrateful, evil person would put anything higher than him. I constantly prayed for forgiveness my "lust."

Can you help who you're attracted to? You can't pray gay away. 

Homosexuality is as natural as a rainbow. Despite being indoctrinated, I had therapists outside of the church willing to help me learn that I was completely normal. Purity culture had me believing waiting to kiss until my wedding day would be the most romantic and honorable thing. Biology teaches us humans are no better or worse than other animals; who we are are our bodies- there's nothing to be ashamed of. Sexuality is a spectrum and there are different types of attractions.

The woman I last fell in love with taught me that- how nakedness doesn't equal sexuality. You'd think this would be easy enough to know, but I was the type of Christian who didn't even watch music videos because they were too revealing. 

I never thought I say fuck purity culture. I wore a ring to resemble my dedication to Jesus; I broke up with people who weren't godly marriage material, I taught virginity could be restored in the mind...

Limerence feasted upon the pile of religious garage inside of me to hatch further insecurities. Around my "favorite person" I was too scared to even look them in the eyes for long or to have them brush against me. Yet, all I dreamed about was being their oxygen. 

My Christian conditioning of self-sacrifice bit me in the ass, as night after night I'd give into what this person wanted and not what I did. (It's important to note here, I never dated this person and we've had many conversations about my experiences.) What they watched, I watched. What they believe, I believed. What they questioned, I questioned. I'm not sure if the saying: "you hate them cuz you either want to be them or fuck em." Is true or not, but I wanted both.

How could I go from studdering at even thinking about telling my crush how beautiful they were to wanting to hang myself from my ceiling fan or gushing when they spent hours ranting at me, to wanting a car to hit me? 

Limerence.

It's a scary deal. 

You're not alone. 


Monday, May 12, 2025

Sensory History

Downtown 

Bumping music, competing voices 
Air stuffy, shoes stick
She's catching up with friends 

Gently caressing wooden railing spindles;
Swallowing Shirley Temple's 
I'm alone again 

Attic

Yelling below, thuds, & crys
Scared, thinking the worst
Angry, drunk mother slamming door on face 
Hot, bitter tears basking salt 

Death

A gasping breath under weighed fingers calling my name,
These legs are glued
A face turns blue

Small little plastic clock
Distraction to disorder 

Rescue

Projecting blame, unaccountable adult
None of this is right 
Suits, note pads & tables 

Seatbelts looser than her grip
Dreaming of far, far away

Runaway

Commands, demands pervasive parent
Angry, unable to escape
She barges through barricade

Wooden window pane opens easy,
Shaking & hungry 

Adulting

Your impatient, judgement tone
A daughter you never knew 
Escaping coping mechanisms 
Freedom to choose 
Lighting up in front of me
Sweet affections we lose








Wednesday, May 7, 2025

You Made Me

Not now, not ever
My questions left unanswered 
Avoidant mother

Instructed, "Wait here."
Alone & cold on marble
Linda, get your child

Abusive parent
Slamming doors, breaking the glass 
Weeping aftermath

Don't worry, don't fret
Best to keep mouth shut instead
Promising to lie

Don't move, don't engage 
Passive aggressive response 
Locked in a heart's cage 

Love is more than words
Bare minimum grace giver 
Better aborted

Bloody evening night
Escaping through a window 
Sleeping above it

Locked out of this home
Decorating large boxes
Collapsing her dreams

Folding up the sheets
Nightmares haunting me for weeks
The bill was too high

Unconventional 
Burning bridges through & through
Reflecting madness

Knocking out their teeth
Imaginary divorce 
Hoping for rescue

Prince charming awaits 
Alluring club & Kool aid 
Teaching misfortune 

Responsible child
Not asking for help needed
Disappointed me

Soul re-parenting
Blasphemy to human race
Coping escapes

Unknown DNA
Hating half, dreaming other
Tongues pull the trigger

Moving far away
Missing what was never there
Lacking attention

Discovering me
An entrepreneur of peace
Turning fears to speech

Identity chaser
Elegant knickknack clutter
Dissociate 

All alone at night
Heaviness breaking my chest
Confident of time

Lay down stubborn pride
Knowing my internal worth 
Now perfect timing

Not everything works
Systems of hard oppression 
Tucked away hermit

Half of this hurt
Blossoming while in manure 
Never touching hands

Calling out this name
Identifying the sun
We're no longer one




Friday, May 2, 2025

Black Hairs Cut

Lighting up a cigg
Stuck with black attached to hips
Afro hair you stink 

A bundle of mess 
Telling her to wait on steps
Saying goodnight with late kiss

Pulling tighter up
Boney hands winning trophies
I watch you murder

Trying to make ends
Screaming at the layers cut
White hair was wanted

Long beautiful hair
You gave birth to my sister
Wrapped around purple 

Starving for your love
Bellies empty of your grace 
Screams to sit up straight

Hot iron pressed upon me
No more of his fluffy curls
Black anger lingers

New adult child 
Hair growth never a skill learned
Covering up cuts

Thick, dry, brittle, hair
Caring not for history 
A shortened future

Love learns the rhythm 
Bit of patience and prudence 
An evolving style 

Freedom miles away
Keratin expounds beauty
Its legacy speaks

Will you let me speak?
Years told to shut up & wait
Dead ends litter clothes 

Bangs cover my eyes