Just A Little Shame

I recently made a new post on my second blog.

I talked about my weekend at the beach with my boyfriend and his family and how I accidentally peed my pants. Not one of my finer moments. I actually share that blog on Facebook for my family and friends, so they can see how I’m doing because for some reason a lot of people feel awkward when they wanna ask me how I’m doing.

After reading and proofreading and rereading the post again, I realized something. I can tell the world I peed my pants and not feel a thing. I genuinely don’t care who knows or if anyone wants to talk about it.

But then,

This weekend while I was at the beach with my boyfriend, we went into a souvenir shop. There were tacky shirts all over the walls, and there were these 2 matching shirts that said This Guy Loves His Girlfriend and This Girl Loves Her Boyfriend. He got really excited when he saw them and he wanted us to get them and wear them together the next day. But for some reason, I was kind of eye-rolling at them in my mind. I smiled and told him that if he likes them I wouldn’t mind wearing them with him, but he could tell that I wasn’t very enthusiastic so he let it go.

For some reason I can’t stop thinking about that. He’s tried to get shirts like that before but I never really went for it. Personally I guess I don’t really care, but I don’t really know why I’m not that into it. We hold hands everywhere we go, we hug and kiss in public, it’s clear to everyone that we’re happy together and in love. I guess it’s just kind of an “actions speak louder than words” thing. But now I realize, my actions weren’t very loving. Buying a $5 shirt that expresses my love for him that would make him happy wasn’t too much to ask. He always does so much for me. He’s always so loving towards me. He really does anything and everything for me.

I made him a shirt about 2 years ago. It’s a black shirt that I painted a strange smiley face on. The fabric paint has cracked significantly since then, and it’s a bit too small for him now. But you know what? He still wears it. All the time. Because it makes him happy because I made it for him. And I always feel touched when I see him wear it even though it looks just plain odd now.

In relationships, it’s really the little things that count. Holding hands while dipping our feet in the ocean, getting up at 1 in the morning to eat cold pizza, cuddling in bed and falling asleep while watching Friends. It’s nothing crazy or extravagant, but the happiness is incomparable. I wish all weekends — all days — could be like that. It was one of the best weekends of my life.

Now I just wish we had gotten those shirts.


Put A Little Love In Your Heart

Sometimes I feel bad for making so many personal posts, but then I remember that this is my personal blog and I can write whatever I want.

Let me start this post by telling a story.

Yesterday was my sugar bun’s birthday wheeee. I didn’t get to see him because we’re both out of town, but I found out he got a car for his birthday, which is some exciting stuff.

The cause of my distress is because I found out he got a car from Facebook. On his mom’s page. She posted the pictures really late at night, but it was bright in the pictures, so I kind of had a moment of “…Oh… So I guess he didn’t feel the need to tell me about this…”

It kind of stung, since getting your first car is usually an important and exciting milestone in a person’s life and it was kind of like, oh, he didn’t feel like sharing. I talked to him for like 3 or 4 hours today and he didn’t feel like bringing that up.

(Still not at my main point yet.)

So of course I kind of got upset and I texted him congratulating him on the car, and asking why he didn’t think to mention it to me.

(Here’s my point.)

Whenever I get into a spat with my boyfriend though, or whenever something in the less-than-positive range happens, the same thought always crosses my mind: Maybe I should break up with him.

Not because I don’t like him. Not because I don’t think he likes me. But because I don’t think he deserves what I put him through sometimes. When I’m whiny or bitter or anything of the nature, I always think, “Well this is a really petty topic when you think about it… He doesn’t deserve the shit I’m giving him.”

The main point I’m trying to make it that I never feel like I’m worthy of anything.

I never think I’m worth love, worth respect, worth anyone’s time or efforts.

When I was younger, I was bullied a lot for being ugly. At lunch time everyday, I would look at the deemed “beautiful” girls in my class and look at my food. I would think “Food gives energy. Energy helps you live. Why should I eat this food then? I’m not beautiful. I don’t deserve to live. What do I need this energy for? Why should I eat this food?”

Just saying, but my boyfriend takes a lot of shit from me. A lot. I suffer from depression, along with the occasional anxiety/panic attack. I spend some nights up crying, I have incredible insomnia. But whenever I’m having a bitch fit, he just takes it, and he tries to calm me down, and whenever I feel like breaking up with him it’s because I don’t think I deserve his kindness and all his hard efforts.

I was going through a particularly bad spell one night. I really wanted to break up with him, and all I could think about was killing myself. There was a lot of sobbing and wheezing and altogether unpleasantness. I told him that we should break up, and he said to me, “Why do you think you can decide what’s best for me? I know what’s best for me, and I want you. I don’t want to be with anyone else. Why can’t you just accept my love and be happy with me?”

I honestly don’t know. I don’t know why, but… I don’t know.

There’s a quote that goes, “We take the love we think we deserve” or something along those lines. Maybe that’s not quite true, because I know that my boyfriend goes through more than he should putting up with me and I know I don’t deserve that.

The past left me with these ugly wounds. I have an extreme abandonment complex, an inferiority complex, and an “Is she prettier than me?” complex. I’m emotionally over-reactive. I’m over-defensive because I’m always waiting for an attack. I’m the biggest clinger and pusher you will ever meet, perfectly at the same time.

His words calmed me that night. They made me think, Hey, here I am throwing the biggest fit of my life, and he still wants to be with me. I’ve tossed him around every which way, and he still wants to be with me. It’s either he’s fifty shades of crazy, or he really loves me. But hopefully both.

I try really hard not to be that person. I try really hard to be a good person for my friends, so that I can feel I deserve them. Hopefully one day I’ll know that I do.


“Waiting for your call I’m sick
Call I’m angry
Call I’m desperate for your voice.”

— Secondhand Serenade, Your Call

In my AP Lit class senior year, we read Waiting For Godot by Samuel Beckett. It’s about two (homosexual) men that spend every day waiting under a tree for Godot (water, God, etc.). At the end of the unit, our essay question was this:

Why do we wait for things?

I knew my answer pretty quickly. We wait because we think that whatever we think we’re waiting for is worth it. Why do we wait for a pizza to come when there’s soup in the fridge? Because we like pizza better. Why do we wait anxiously by the door when we know our friends are coming over? Because we like hanging out with our friends and we want to see them. Why do we wait in line at the DMV? Because the freedom of driving ourselves around beats waiting for our parents to get ready to take us somewhere 10 minutes away.

In my opinion, we wait because we want what’s coming. Not even that we want it necessarily, but sometimes we just need it. Why do people wait anxiously for the results of a cancer or HIV screening? Because they need to know the answer. They need to know what’s next.

Well that was a pretty long prologue, but I think you get the idea. Now for the real topic of this post:

Long-distance relationships.

Cue eye-rolling and muffled sighs of exasperation and defeat. Many things come to mind when they hear this phrase. Heartbreak, imminent doom, high percentage of failure, etc etc. So in conclusion: not good.

Psychology has provided reasons why. Though I could go over several, the one I will discuss is proximity. People tend to like people they see more often. Say X sits next to Y in class, while Z sits on the other side of the room. X and Z may be more fundamentally compatible, but X has a higher chance of falling for Y because they sit closer and spend more time together (and providing Y also has an admirable personality and several common interests with X). That may not be the most perfect example, but you get the idea.

If you love something set it free. If it comes back, it’s yours to keep. If not, it was never meant to be.

This is a quote I see SO DAMN MUCH describing long-distance relationships. Let’s discuss.

I’m not quite sure what the quote means by “set it free”. Is it implying that couples in long-distance should be in “open” relationships compared to seeing each other exclusively? Or does it mean have faith? And what does it mean by “comes back”? Does that mean the person comes back untarnished by society exactly the way you parted? I’ll assume the “not” implies that it just plain didn’t work out.

The point I was trying to make with that is this: relationships are complicated.

Pardon my lack of intricacy and craft in that statement, but it’s true. Let me just skip to my personal story / reason why I’m writing this post.

I’ve been in a relationship with my sugar pie for 2 years, 4 months, and 4 days as of today. All my friends think it’s luck, and I agree. High school relationships weren’t meant to last this long.


Me and my honey bunny.

In a little over a month, we’ll be going to colleges that are 4 hours apart. I’m not okay with it. The reason I chose now to write this post is because I’ve been getting a taste of what it’ll be like.

He’s been out of the state for the past 3 weeks. He’s super busy and there’s poor cell service out there. I haven’t talked to him much, and it sucks. Not gonna lie; I hate it, and it does hurt. I just want to talk to him and tell him about my day and see him and ask him what he’s been up to and all that couple-y janks. When we part, I’m only 50% sure things will be okay.

There are too many “if”‘s in long-distance. What if we get tired of waiting to see each other? What if we meet other people? What if the emotional strain takes too great a toll?

Do I want it to work out? Or course. If it fails, I’ll feel like these past 2+ years were in vain. Do I think it will work out? No clue.

Here’s why I haven’t broken up with that baby-faced cutie pie yet:

Hope. And a lot of faith.

My family is from the Philippines. Not everyone can get a VISA at the same time, so boyfriends and girlfriends get left behind here and there. But so far, it’s always worked out. Literally, always. All my cousins and aunts and uncles that had someone waiting for them somewhere else, they’ve come back together and married / made it work out. All of them. Same goes to my military family with partners stationed in different countries. They always find their way back to each other.

If family members of mine can stand living halfway around the world from each other for years, then why can’t I? Especially since I’ll be home at least once a month…

I’m not trying to discourage anyone at all. If you love your boo and you want to give long-distance a try, then do yo thang! (#nadinegetsghetto). If you believe you have the emotional stability and trust, then by all means. If it doesn’t work, you can’t say you didn’t try. Humans love to gamble. That’s pretty much what this is *cue game show host voice* — Come on down and play Long-Distance Relationship! Can YOU beat the odds?

Am I being optimistic? Hell yeah. A big part of me is screaming that it won’t work, but there’s another part of me that tells me I love him. In the end, who knows? All I know right now is that I won’t give up, and that in the end I won’t regret a thing.

When it comes down to it, it’s all about who you’re waiting for.

Feels Like I’m Living A Teenage Dream.

My two year anniversary was yesterday! My boyfriend and I started dating in sophomore year and now we’re seniors. Yesterday was lovely, and it made me want to write.

A common argument is this: Teenagers can’t experience “real” love, just overwhelming and misinterpreted heated passion.

I happen to disagree.

First let’s discuss what “love” means. (My definition anyways.)

Love is a feeling you get when you think the world of someone. Their happiness is your happiness and you only want the best for them. You put your full trust and loyalty on them. You want to share things with them and be a part of their world like they’re a part of yours. It’s when you think someone’s amazing and you can’t imagine your life without them.

Here's the "professional" definition.

Here’s the “professional” definition for reference. Which also helps my argument.

The most important point I have to make for this argument: Love is an emotion. Just like happiness, sadness, fear, anger, etc. etc. Yes it can come and go, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t real and it doesn’t mean it never happened.

Are there some people just overcome with passion and hormones? Absolutely. Does that only happen to teenagers? Nope. Just look at the divorce rate for America (cough 50% cough). Most of those people likely felt love at some point (obviously), and it just melted away. But that doesn’t mean the relationship was insincere.

My aunt and uncle met when they were 12. Started dating at 14. They married when they were 26. And they’ve been living happily ever after ever since.

My parents met when they were 5. Started dating at 25. Married at 30.

Like people, relationships come in different shapes, sizes, colors, you name it.

So right now, I dare to say that I love this boy. I think the world of him and he feels the same for me. He’s the one I can sit with in complete silence and not feel awkward, and the one I stay up with late at night on the phone talking about nothing at all. Sounds like love to me. Feels like love to me. College is coming, and I don’t know what that means for us. It could mean catastrophe, it could not. But I know that in this moment we love each other, and that’s enough for me.

The Seasons of Heartbreak.

It’s a sad fact, but while Valentine’s Day acts as a day to get together, the days preceding it are popular days to separate. The common reason is “they didn’t want to get a boyfriend / girlfriend level present if they knew it wasn’t gonna work out”.

This situation was brought to my attention by media and my brokenhearted friend. It’s okay T, and this is for you.

So now, JustAnEmber presents “The Seasons of Heartbreak: A Guide to Catharsis During This Rough Period”!!


Fall is the age of wising up, reaching a climax and heading towards decline.

Most breakups are predictable, you must admit. In hindsight, there was always some little cloud of impending doom looming overhead. The fall is a time of uneasiness and worry, wondering what’s going to come next. Whatever must happen will happen.

When a couple breaks up, often there’s one more hurt than the other. Let me explain with a metaphor:

Let’s say in a relationship, you share an apartment. When a person is feeling it’s not working out, they think about it. They don’t move out altogether, but they start moving boxes out a bit at a time. When they decide it’s really over, they have less baggage to carry. The other person has all their stuff scattered around the place and things are unorganized and messy. They’re nowhere near ready to move out yet.

Then they have to start clearing the room.



The archetype of death. In this case, the death of love.

I’m a teenager. In high school. A senior no less. I’ve had my heart toyed with and beaten several times, had my flame ignited and snuffed out. I know the feeling.

And that’s why I can say with 100% confidence that it gets better in time. People, especially teenagers, often overestimate the effect of an emotional situation, and definitely overestimate the time it takes to get better. Time does heal all wounds: a lot faster than you think.

During this winter, it feels like everything is falling apart. All you can think about is what went wrong, how things could’ve changed and turned out differently. You’re pained by all the memories you shared and wanted to make, and you’re tired from trying to get your baggage out as fast as you can. But you can’t.

One of my favorite lyrics of all time is “Nights filled with longer hours”¬†(if you’re into The Main Drag, or if you like winter, def. listen to A Jagged Gorgeous Winter). Don’t spend those long hours in the dark letting the darkness consume you. Sleep it off.

Take it box by box. Going too slow will leave you in a rut, going too fast will break your back.

The point: You’re not dying. Your feelings towards that lost love are dying. And so is that part of your life.

But when one door closes, another one opens.


The time of rebirth and rejuvenation.

After all that sadness passes and all the fits are through, and you’ve taken the time to mentally sort things out, things just get better. You can’t really plan it or understand, but it just happens. Literally. I literally can’t think of a better way to explain it. Your spring cleaning is complete, and the apartment has been cleared.

I suppose it’s like you’ve finally let go of that part of your life that you’ve been holding on to. You just let it fall to the bottom of the ocean with the Titanic and forgot about it. Is it still there? Sure. Are you going to look for it? You better not.


It took her forever, but she let it go. Don’t wait until you’re 103 like her though.


The time of vitality and maturity.

Congratulations! You’ve moved on! In this summer time, you’re free. You’ve shed every piece of winter clothing and lost all those cold thoughts and you’re on to better and brighter things. Do you remember winter? Yes. Will it come back? Hey, every up has its downs.

Point to remember: Summer has more hours of sunshine. Make use of them.

As I said in a previous post: “Single” is not synonymous with “alone”.¬†So smile! Because I know you can.

I reiterate: Every end is a new beginning. This is the first step towards something better.

I hope everyone makes plans (provided you’re not a swamped student) and has a happy Valentine’s Day.

Love and other Vices.

It’s almost Valentine’s Day. For high schoolers, that’s kind of a thing.

Another mainstream name for February 14th is “Forever Alone Day”. Why?

Forever Alone

None of you are this. I guarantee it.

Contrary to popular belief, being single isn’t the end of the world. And this is coming from someone in a relationship of almost 2 years. (Woo!)

In all honestly, despite how much I care about my boyfriend, I love being single. I love not being tied down. If I’m being honest with myself, I’d rather be single for my senior year because I wouldn’t have this pressure of separating for college. Do I like being in a relationship? Yes. Do I mind being single? No.

Another issue: slut shaming.

In class the other day, when discussing relationships, I overheard my friend say, “I just have higher expectations of my friends.”

This was in reference to all the high school couples that constantly break up then make up, and those short flings that last a month or two or less.

My comment: A short relationship does not mean a bad relationship, a long relationship does not mean a good relationship.

Some points to ponder: sometimes people think they can be in a relationship; maybe they’re best friends and they want to see where things go, but then they realize it just isn’t working (learned from experience). Maybe it’s a long and dull relationship, but the fear of separation keeps them together.

There are a lot of reasons to be with someone and to not be with someone. There are a lot of reasons to be with lots of people and to be with very few people.

This is the age to experiment. The age to discover who you are and what you want and in my opinion it’s perfectly okay to not know a damn thing and to see lots of people, as long as you’re not intentionally trying to hurt people (I’ve seen it done). People move at different paces, and when you’re ready you’ll know what to do whether it’s settling down or being forever a wanderer.

Samantha Jones

50 some years old and a nympho. Ahem.

“Single” is not synonymous with “alone”. In elementary school, we give Valentine cards to everyone in the class, and I certainly didn’t like everyone in my grade. But we picked out the ones for our friends specially, and put more effort into those because they were the ones that made us not alone. Single or taken, this Valentine’s Day just appreciate the people you share every day with.