When do you step out of In-Between?

I wrote a poem several years ago about being forever the In-Between girl. The in-between girl is the girl who is always just missing that magic moment. They would love to be with you but they're moving out of state or live in Spain or are getting deployed for 17 years. They think you're amazing but you are too much or too good for them or not "girlfriend material". When I wrote this poem, I assumed that the condition was chronic. That you went from In-between to player to cougar and then moved in with your best friend and lived a life slightly similar to Thelma and Louise. But after a few years of playing this role, walking down this path, I realize that I was wrong.

You don't stay in between forever. One day you wake up and say "This isn't enough. You are not fulfilling me. I deserve love for longer than it takes for you to leave or find someone new." And this realization is terrifying. It takes away an identity that for so long has been a band-aid covering up something that needed stitches. One day, you get stitched up, and then that gap closes, and you are left wondering where to go now that you are able to use all of your heart. How do you use all of your heart with that scar there reminding you that it could be broken again? Will people see your scar and think it is ugly? Will you ever realize the scar can be beautiful?

 Sometimes instead of facing the world in all your new vulnerable glory, you hang out where you used to be comfortable, in the in between. But the scene has changed. You don't know the regulars anymore, or you don't relate. It's not fun and exciting, but exhausting and leaves you feeling empty. The attention is easy to get, but hard to enjoy. So you look back at what you wanted before you fell in-between. You learn to say no. You learn to be alone and find bliss in the company of your silence. And no matter how many times you fall back a step, you take two more forward toward something better...

 So I was right when I said "say goodbye to the In Between girl," not because she has become lost, but because maybe, finally, she found herself :)

 In Between Girl - Janssen 2009
 Have you ever heard of the In Between Girl?
"I'm not sure what I want" and "we're just friends, right?" Girl..
Used and abused, only there to amuse
While you wait for better you give her a whirl.

 She plays her part with great wit, I must say
Lets you see other girls and pretends she's okay
Deep down inside there is something she hides
but she sits back and tries not to feel anyways.

 After a while of being a pawn
the identity given begins to hold on.
It happens so fast, and the side effects last
When being the In Between Girl is prolonged.

 She acts like she's strong, yeah this life's what she wants
Acting out, getting drunk, she's got attitude to flaunt
She knows it's not right, still she can't seem to fight
The high of always getting out of men what she wants

 But truth gets lost in her little game
She starts to feel pleasure from all of the pain
Bite a little bit harder, push a little bit farther
She's insatiable now, impossible to tame.

 What ever happened to the In Between Girl?
Open heart, bright eyed girl who wished for the world
Some scars never heal, now her heart has been sealed
Say goodbye to the In Between Girl...

Written By: Janssen Judge, Age: 23
This writing is from Janssen's personal blog:  janssenrenee.blogspot.com 

Proud, Pretty and (Hot) Pink

I was always an outgoing girl. I loved singing, dancing, goofing off and making my friends laugh. If my personality were a color- it would probably be a very hot pink. 

This hot pink personality is probably what drew Him to me in the first place. So we started dating. It was my first “real” relationship and everything was so exciting. It was great having someone there all the time and knowing you had a partner for everything. I was so eager to dive right in and enjoy every moment of being in a relationship. But as months turned into years, a subtle change was happening that I barely even noticed it. Certain situations would arise where he’d ask me to “tone it down.” He’d become impatient over something and I’d quickly change my mind and do whatever was faster or easier or more convenient to him. He’d point out occasions in public where he thought I was being “too much” for other people and suggest I take a more subtle approach. It was never over anything in particular, which is probably why I never really noticed. But eventually, through the course of five years, I started to realize the hot pink had suddenly faded to a very sad, worn out, dull and dusty rose.

When did I stop singing and goofing off with my friends? When did I stop making time for my friends or even myself? It’s so cliché, but I learned for myself how true the saying is, “Love is blind.” That goes especially for first loves. Somehow, I got wrapped up in the love bubble and lost my way. I became so consumed with making one person happy, I forgot about the other person in the relationship- ME. I stopped asking for compromise and started catering to his needs over mine. Most friends eventually gave up on inviting me to do things because they knew I wouldn’t go anyway. I forgot what my own hobbies were, couldn’t even recall if I had any before. All of my time and energy was going to one person, and that’s where it gets dangerous.

I’ve learned that happiness is not something you can rely on just one person or thing for. Buying a certain pair of shoes won’t bring you happiness for longer than the night you spend wearing it out. Being in a relationship won’t bring you happiness either if you are constantly relying on just that person to give you everything. You end up draining both your energy and their energy from the process. Suddenly things aren’t so light and fun anymore. You wonder why things don’t feel the same. It’s not until you realize you are the one partly to blame. Sure, He may have been the one to ask you to dial down the personality, but You are also the one who allowed that to happen.  You are the one who also got caught up in loving just one person that you forgot about loving yourself and the other people who care about you. It’s never been my thing to play the victim, I am much more comfortable being the victor. When I look back at this past situation, I can see it for exactly what it was- a lesson in how to move forward in my life.

I can see now that no one should ever ask you to dull your shine and if they do, they aren’t worth your time. They could never appreciate you for the true light you bring to the world. It is YOUR job alone to keep being yourself and identifying where your light is loved and valued. Not everyone will agree with who you are, but don’t let that stop you. There will be people who love you for the different shades you color into their lives and I know for sure there’s someone out there who can love and appreciate hot pink.

Written By: Janah Valenzuela, Age 28

Check her out at:

http://quarterlifecomeback.tumblr.com/

Twitter: @janlo3

I'm OK

I come from a "traditionally ideal" family. My parents are still married, I have great siblings, and my childhood was idyllic...until October 21 of 1995. I was 11 years old and my big brother was my absolute world. At 17 he was wise beyond his years and I knew that any man in my life would have to live up to him...too soon, he was ripped from my life. My brother was senselessly gunned down in a random drive by shooting during a family party. I cried for three days straight and then, I got mad, but not for the right reasons. I was so angry with my brother for leaving. I was truly livid and I promised myself that I'd never find a man who reminded me of him.
    By the time I was 14, I was dating someone much older than me and he was nothing like my brother. For that I was grateful because it meant no reminders. Unfortunately, it also meant he didn't have my best interests at heart. One night I found myself in an inevitable situation. I didn't lose my virginity, but I was forced into an orally sexual act that left me in tears, my soul a little more broken. I made a promise to myself that night. I never wanted to feel that powerless again and I would save myself for the right person.
    That "right" person arrived within my first two years of college. I was 21 and he was the "bee knees", or so I thought. He was never physically abusive, but verbally was another story. 
    At 5'6 and 135 lbs I always felt comfortable in my own skin. He changed all that. The first time we had sex (the first time ever for me) it wasn't beautiful or magical. He commented on everything that was "wrong" with me from my thighs to my chubby cheeks, the list goes on. Every time I ate a meal he would comment on how huge my portions were and how it was no wonder I looked the way I did. By this time, I was so focused on pleasing him that I had lost control of everything else. My grades were suffering, I "hated" my family, food was the devil...this is where my bout with anorexia took shape.
    It was so liberating at first. I'd lie and tell my parents I'd already eaten when, truthfully, I hadn't eaten in days. The control I felt was ridiculous. I chose if I ate or not. ME. Not my mom, not my dad, not my boyfriend, but ME. 
    Within a couple of weeks I was down to 115 lbs, a few more weeks and I was less than 110 lbs. And still, it wasn't enough. I looked sick, I felt sick, my parents didn't know how to help me, but you know what the worst part was? My boyfriend still wasn't pleased with my appearance. Now, I was too thin. He complained he could see my ribs, my hair was thinning out, and makeup couldn't even hide the circles under my eyes anymore. "Basically", he said, "you look terrible. I think we should take a break." And that was my breaking point. Forget broken. My soul felt shattered.
    I went home and cried as I lay in bed. Not only because of him, but also because it hurt to sleep on my hips. I was so thin and it was my fault I let my body hurt like this. That was the night I found my brother again. I begged him to help me. To pull me out of the dark hole I had found myself in. To help me change the course of my life and finally, I forgave him for "leaving".
    The next morning, I woke up and did something exhilirating...I ate breakfast. The next week I did something empowering...I told my ex, "Hell NO!", when he asked to work things out. And I haven't looked back since. 
    At 27, I still have a love/hate relationship with food, but everyday, it gets better. And I miss my brother more than I did yesterday. It terrifies me that I might forget his scent, his laughter, or the way he smiled. But then I find my inner strength and I know that he's always here to remind me...I'm OK.
    
Written By: Ashley Aguillard, Age 27