<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2824095476121964839</id><updated>2011-04-21T11:13:27.881-07:00</updated><title type='text'>iWrite</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haleylloyd.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2824095476121964839/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haleylloyd.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Haley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06735567871307084710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/1369/40/n129500380_9183.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>5</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2824095476121964839.post-174437143369432272</id><published>2008-01-06T00:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-06T01:12:50.136-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love is a four-letter word beginning with a 'C'.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="entry"&gt;            &lt;!--/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table--&gt;                          &lt;!--span face="Verdana, sans-serif" size="86%" style="margin:6px 0 12px 0;padding:0;"&gt;by sneexe&lt;/span--&gt;                         &lt;p&gt;&lt;!--img src="http://img53.exs.cx/img53/3536/desperate-hope.gif" style="float:left;"--&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;We were given a Gift, one so unlikely that most people never even come close to touching in their entire lifespan on the planet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Two individuals. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;So madly, insanely, perfectly, matched.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Too fucking amazing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Falling simultaneously into knowing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Led by fate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;And you used it, abused it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;And threw it back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;What a moron.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;It's dead now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Something so painfully rare, so beautiful, so powerful and so fragile... terminated. Aborted by your fear, selfish greed, dishonesty and sheer and utter, juvenile cowardice. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;It's dead now. And soon the memories of the shining moments we shared will fade completely away, and it will be as if The Gift we shared had never come into being.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;You fell into the trap of probabilities.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Terrified yourself with all of the statistics and textbook facts. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;And couldn't screw up the courage to even &lt;i&gt;try&lt;/i&gt; to check on the simple reality. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Your deceit hurt me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;As I have never been hurt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;In ways I swore never to be hurt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;And I'm thankful for the blessing that revealed the horrible depth of your character flaws early.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;So, yes, I am amused. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;You'll never find out how &lt;i&gt;little&lt;/i&gt; of what you were so afraid of, fleshed out so frighteningly with facts and figures, was real.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;And me? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;I'm glad. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;We become what we are through the choices we make. And now I know I wouldn't have liked what I would have become, from choosing a life with you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;I've found out, I'm stronger than I thought. Or perhaps, I've become stronger. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Embarrassment, shame and fear have lost their stranglehold over me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;I've discovered that often one's deepest fears are not as bad as all that when they come true.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Frankly my dear, now I find I don't give a damn, and it's what I've been trying to do for the longest time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;So thrown back into the shallow but vast waters of the dating world, I immerse myself in the comfort and security of an individual who i think can surprise me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Peering carefully into the world of a man whose existence is quite possibly the antagonist of my own.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;The previous love that i was catapulted into was beyond anything that i have ever encountered. the realness that I envisioned was love, may not have been that at all. perhaps, my perception of love had just been as juvenile as your actions throughout our year plus relationship.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;So here i am, back to the future. faced with the varying degrees of the love that i thought had once encountered.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p  style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153); text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;practical love. See...this is what always gets to me. There is wild-assed crazy in love and all that entails and then there is steady, stable love that supports me and ensures I don't get too out of hand. The question is, which do I prefer? And I suppose it's not a pressing question at the moment, considering the act that;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153); text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;a.) I'm not exactly certain i am able to differentiate the two,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153); text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153); text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;b.) nowhere am I pressed or in the position to be throwing that word around with the individual i am currently, well 'involved' with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p  style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153); text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am capable of taking care of myself, but it is nice to have a love that checks in. It is nice to have a love that thinks about me above others. It is nice to have a love that calls to make sure I am ok before I go to bed at night, when I'm having a rough day. All of these things are nice. And practical. But are they sustainable?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153); text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;He breaks me, he mends me. Its a quintessential element of our so-called relationship. furthermore, to complicate things, we are opposites. in ever aspect. i never truly believed in  Freud's whole opposites attract theory,  in fact,  i strongly devour the argument that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Reinforcement and  attraction are positively correlated, the more reinforcement one gets, the more attraction one feels.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p  style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153); text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Is it more of a gamble to invest myself in love that flirts in and out and fills me with inspiration, but cannot be counted on for any other purpose? I'm not sure. Steadfastness and stability seems less of a risk, but is it, really? Are there guarantees in any of it? It seems like, in the end, the odds are about even.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p  style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153); text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Is it selfish for me to want both? To rely upon the love that is there and true, and eternally flirt with the muse - in whatever form she takes. Perhaps it is true that no one person will ever satisfy me. Funny that in saying that, and living it, I run the risk of being alone forever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153); text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&amp;amp; who knows.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;maybe I'm better off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;              &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2824095476121964839-174437143369432272?l=haleylloyd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haleylloyd.blogspot.com/feeds/174437143369432272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2824095476121964839&amp;postID=174437143369432272' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2824095476121964839/posts/default/174437143369432272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2824095476121964839/posts/default/174437143369432272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haleylloyd.blogspot.com/2008/01/love-is-four-letter-word-beginning-with.html' title='Love is a four-letter word beginning with a &apos;C&apos;.'/><author><name>Haley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06735567871307084710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/1369/40/n129500380_9183.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2824095476121964839.post-5543999684047195374</id><published>2007-10-25T07:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-25T07:14:25.813-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Whatever the reason, whether it's them, whether it's you, whether it's timing or circumstances out of your control, when you can't have the one you want, the one you really want, the one you know deep down was put on this earth for you and you alone, the standard for what you'll allow to come after them is inextricably tied - and unavoidably lowered due - to the still-fresh memory of the one from which you were forced to walk away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Put simply, you rebound.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And while this sort of relationship can &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://img2.timeinc.net/people/i/2007/startracks/070212/nick_lachey.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;work&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; and has &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.repubblica.it/trovacinema/rendercmsfield.jsp?field_name=Image&amp;amp;id=259161"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;worked&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;, for the most part, the allure of having something new and of being seen with something new, regardless of its inadequacy, will rapidly lose its lustre and thrust you head and heart first into one of those I'll-never-find-something-better phases.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;That's presently where I am. But it's not exactly what you may be thinking. My heart is broken, yes, and I have been trying to move on with limited success due to both my unwillingness to accept the so-not-my-choice departure of "the one" and because of the string of vastly inferior replacements with which I've attempted (and patently failed) to fill this gaping void.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;moving on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;moving on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;moving on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2824095476121964839-5543999684047195374?l=haleylloyd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haleylloyd.blogspot.com/feeds/5543999684047195374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2824095476121964839&amp;postID=5543999684047195374' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2824095476121964839/posts/default/5543999684047195374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2824095476121964839/posts/default/5543999684047195374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haleylloyd.blogspot.com/2007/10/whatever-reason-whether-its-them.html' title=''/><author><name>Haley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06735567871307084710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/1369/40/n129500380_9183.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2824095476121964839.post-4761605658495682060</id><published>2007-10-04T09:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-04T10:12:24.307-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the moral of the story is.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;I always used to write about reaching crossroads, trying to decide which path is less destructive, evidently attempting to determine the most constructive option. I never really understood or believed in the concept of fate, or everything happens for a reason, so these paths that I spoke of were inevitably becoming more and more twisted, with each block so to speak containing multiple veins of challenges and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;opportunities&lt;/span&gt;. Of course, that is the concept of growing up. I am now a young woman with these choices at every corner. My options far exceeding those that I had once thought were available to me. Surrounding myself with positive &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;acquaintances&lt;/span&gt;, supportive friends, and family with undying love, I have finally come to understand the road to my happiness. Reading 'the secret' that has become a phenomenon due to Oprah, and following the mantras of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Dali&lt;/span&gt; lama, although motivational, perhaps just gave me that drive to ultimately determine what exactly would make me complete. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Rarely able to admit my flaws, I have come to understand and appreciate them. Each negative quality that i previously allowed to consume me, is now something that makes me strive to be better. Naturally, there will be times where i choose the wrong path, and wind up in foreign territory. However, utilizing my previous mistakes as a sense of direction, will &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;allow&lt;/span&gt; me to reach a familiar destination.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It has &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;occurred&lt;/span&gt; to me that "everything happens for a reason", does in fact play a large role in my life. I have come to believe without fate the decisions that are 'under the radar' , would go unanswered. Nonetheless, one can not expect life to just happen. Well, at  least the way you'd like it to. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A combination of fate, and drive to reach the destination of happiness and success is my 'secret' in which I am living by. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2824095476121964839-4761605658495682060?l=haleylloyd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haleylloyd.blogspot.com/feeds/4761605658495682060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2824095476121964839&amp;postID=4761605658495682060' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2824095476121964839/posts/default/4761605658495682060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2824095476121964839/posts/default/4761605658495682060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haleylloyd.blogspot.com/2007/10/moral-of-story-is.html' title='the moral of the story is.'/><author><name>Haley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06735567871307084710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/1369/40/n129500380_9183.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2824095476121964839.post-5716705427238464267</id><published>2007-10-03T10:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-04T07:23:45.170-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the single life.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;As the months of summer turn from fall to winter, the hands that once had held martinis and beers are now finding their way to another. But being single doesn’t mean being an outcast, and we, and by 'we' I mean I, often experience a twinge of “social stigmatism” of being single, especially during the holidays in December, January and February. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;It never fails that there’s a favorite aunt or uncle, maybe even your grandparents or friends, that wonder aloud why you’ve not settled down, met someone nice and and stay with them long enough to at least see the following holiday. Of course, these loved ones mean well but what they don’t understand is the key to your being okay with “singlehood” is your strong Sense of Self. Your Sense of Self is comprised of the What, Who and How you are: What you present to the world, Who you truly are within, and How you blend the two in authenticity. After my year and a bit long relationship at an age of immaturity, I presented the “what” that I thought others needed to see, and what I wanted them to see – devastated, scorned, but dealing with it bravely – which worked really well in gaining favor from my friends and family over my ex. But after several months of this presentation, things didn’t feel right within. My “who” was screaming to be released. After obtaining a job with opportunities galore, I begin to recognize that “what” I’d been presenting to the world was not “who” I truly was; for I had adopted the role of “ex-girlfriend” as my identity. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;With continued advances in my personal, and career life, I learned more about WHO I am as a person, not as an ex-girlfriend. Empowered, I dropped the victim role and embraced WHO I was as a single woman in a new and exciting adventure! After several more months of developing my Sense of Self, which positively impacted all areas of my life, I became very comfortable being single, holding the attitude and knowing that for me, it is temporary. Many singles may choose being single as a permanent lifestyle, for it does have many advantages. But being happily single, whether you choose it as a permanent or temporary lifestyle is the result of your Sense of Self – the foundation upon you which you connect WHO you are with WHAT you present to the world. The “how” piece of this puzzle is how you live it. For those who seek another relationship, many singles get into trouble when they begin to define who they are by whether they are in a relationship or not. Being guilty of this myself, the single doesn’t feel they are “complete” without a relationship. (Jerry McGuire set Sense of Self back with the “You complete me” line!). Relationship partners are complimentary – not completions. For me personally, I am empowered! I've had more dates in this small time frame than I ever had in any other. And though not all of them worked out the way I hoped or wanted, they were enjoyable and easily manageable; and when they didn’t work out, I was still happily single thanks to my strong Sense of Self. But despite a successful period of dating, and enjoying myself, I know that for me personally, being single is temporary because I seek to have a man to compliment my life. How you live as a single is a personal choice, and one does not need to be coupled to have a fulfilling life! Encompassed within the strengthening of one’s Sense of Self is self-love. Self-love is the foundation upon which to build your life – not a relationship! Once I figured this out, my life became more meaningful, enjoyable and fulfilling because I stopped looking to an external source, a.k.a. a bf, and began looking within. So now when that my grandmother queries aloud why Mr. Right hasn’t come along, I am empowered to smile with confidence and honestly say that I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in my life. And if you choose to change your status of single to one of dating, you can do so from a place of empowerment. Because with a strong Sense of Self, you are full of self-love, and with self-love, you are open to give and receive love which further empowers the relationship to blossom into a healthy inter-dependent partnerships, allowing you both to be authentic in WHAT, WHO and HOW you are in your personal journey, and in your journey together. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2824095476121964839-5716705427238464267?l=haleylloyd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haleylloyd.blogspot.com/feeds/5716705427238464267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2824095476121964839&amp;postID=5716705427238464267' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2824095476121964839/posts/default/5716705427238464267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2824095476121964839/posts/default/5716705427238464267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haleylloyd.blogspot.com/2007/10/single-life.html' title='the single life.'/><author><name>Haley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06735567871307084710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/1369/40/n129500380_9183.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2824095476121964839.post-1127935618630599481</id><published>2007-10-02T14:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T14:45:11.797-07:00</updated><title type='text'>life of a mod-yup</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Lists and lists cover the table of my humble, semi-furnished, 16Th floor apartment in Yaletown. Various classes ranging from ballroom dancing, to hot yoga, from tanning memberships to cable packages. &lt;strong&gt;Enrolled&lt;/strong&gt;...? &lt;em&gt;none&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Stacks of magazines with titles such as Vogue, W, and In Style litter the couches, post-its covering the pages..&lt;strong&gt;desires&lt;/strong&gt;? &lt;em&gt;naturally&lt;/em&gt;.. &lt;strong&gt;affordable&lt;/strong&gt;? &lt;em&gt;hardly&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Cupboards are empty, fridge is rarely stocked with food, yet almost always you could find a bottle of wine. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A short distance to a vast amount of eateries, lounges, bars, nightclubs and spas. &lt;strong&gt;Frequency of use&lt;/strong&gt;?&lt;em&gt; I'm sure my bank statement could give you some insight.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;This is the life of me. &lt;em&gt;A mod-yup&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mod-Yup: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a young, urban, MODERATELY professional individual.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Yes, my rent is sky high, just like my view.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Is it worth it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Absolutely.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Moving out of the home I was provided with since childhood was hardly a simple task. Learning to manage my finances, spend money on cleaning supplies and bills, and working non stop just to support the bare-minimum lifestyle, was definitely an experience I try hard to forget.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Now, two months in, its becoming normal. My roommate and I have discovered that &lt;em&gt;life isn't a box of Prada shoes,&lt;/em&gt; nor is it possible to purchase them on our salary. We have learned the methods of our mothers, scary thought, such as buying &lt;strong&gt;six jugs of laundry detergent&lt;/strong&gt; when its on sale. We have developed the ability to say " I cant afford that right now", or "definitely next pay cheque".  Subway is our new hot spot, and yes, we now understand the &lt;strong&gt;power of networking.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I suppose these are all lessons that I would've eventually had to learn, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;and as much as I miss those home cooked meals, I wouldn't change what I have for the world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;... well maybe a new Gucci bag.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2824095476121964839-1127935618630599481?l=haleylloyd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haleylloyd.blogspot.com/feeds/1127935618630599481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2824095476121964839&amp;postID=1127935618630599481' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2824095476121964839/posts/default/1127935618630599481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2824095476121964839/posts/default/1127935618630599481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haleylloyd.blogspot.com/2007/10/life-of-mod-yup.html' title='life of a mod-yup'/><author><name>Haley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06735567871307084710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/1369/40/n129500380_9183.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
