Blog by Yessica Maher, los Angeles Native.

She explores life after marriage, starting a career in her late 30's, relationships, breaking cycles of abuse, online dating, self care, fertility and depression. 

It's all over the place, but so is living. 

I Know This Place and it Feels Like Fear

Last night I was still in an unhappy place from the latest texting war with the ex.  My voice is still not normal and while it's getting better, allergy season is rearing it's ugly head.  I can finally picture myself being with someone for more than dinner and it comes with fear.  All of this was too much and I realized it when I was at the coffee bar at work, making my cup of tea.  There was honey on my fingertip and I had someone's attention.  It was a predatory moment where sexual aggression meant I enjoyed his discomfort and I needed to shift. It's not nice to say, "I'm being an asshole, here's a boner I won't help you relieve." I've been told I was doing this in highschool and it wasn't intentional then.  It is now and it's never nice because I'm allowing my broken bits to hurt others. I am happy in dating only me.  I opened up to the idea of allowing someone else in my life - not that I've found him and it comes with the fear I have been avoiding.  I really get to face what it means to step into a relationship where I'm aware of my martyr habits and I get to see what I'm doing.  How terribly frightful is that?  It's fucking scary.  My security blanket looks like the confidence of being alone and I get to risk the fall in a way where I get to let someone else mean more than I've allowed since I decided getting married was a good idea.

Eyes wide open.




I get to be brave.

I planned to reach out to a friend and deepen my friendships but I got to take myself out on a date instead.  I drove to Santa Monica and arrived just after the sunset.  It happens earlier now. I walked the pier.  I felt my unease slip away as I got further out over the Pacific Ocean and the light of the sun slowly faded away.  I stood at the end of the pier and felt the chilled air blowing my hair across my face and taking the weight of my week with it.  I was holding this fear of falling in love with someone and having him mean more than I do again.  It looked like sexual aggression and it felt predatory. I had to remind myself that when it happens, he'll be so special that I'll want to give him my time alone.  Considering how amazing it felt to drive home on the streets with only my company and how much I loved myself in that moment I know that when I find him, he'll be worth it.


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