Archive for Humour

Why The “You Complete Me” Mentality Is A Load Of Shit

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , on November 9, 2017 by tivaniam

LOVE is a disease, in and of itself, of which, I am the greatest sufferer. I hold it in reverence; and watch as it turns me from a rational woman, into a manic, fevered-face, high-pitched and deranged shadow of my former self. I am an over-the-top romantic and adore grand displays of affection and attention. A man saying “you complete me” would be met with a theatrical ‘slow-fainting’ display, complete with requisite ugly cry (yes, I’ve watched Jerry Maguire more times than I can count).

But, let’s be real. The stuff movies are made of, aren’t real life and the messages are often very dangerous. The inference that we need another to feel complete is the reason so many of us, women especially, keep yearning and searching for that big love and often times, never find it. Not with that mentality anyway. The universe taught me this lesson early on, but I chose to give it the “up yours” sign and instead became a chameleon in order to make the man happy:

Him: “What’s your favourite food?”

Me: “I don’t know…what’s YOUR favourite food?”

Him: “Probably sushi”

Me: “Oh My God! ME too!”

PS. I HATE sushi.

Enough said. I hang my head in shame.

The universe in Her infinite wisdom, made the lessons harder and harder, until finally, I was sick of my own shit and said, “fuck this, I need to be my own hero and complete myself”, which is the journey I’ve been on for the last 14 months.

So this is the problem with movies like Jerry Maguire; it’s all fun and games and dancing in the dark until we try and apply it to real life and the men run away. Fast. It sets the narrative for a love that isn’t real and cannot be sustained and leads to much disappointment.

I am indefatigable when it comes to love. I peel myself back, layer by layer, for the whole world to see. And I love being that way – gloriously lavish in the face of love.

But, the difference is, notwithstanding my expansive heart, I will never again be a man’s sinner, saint or scapegoat in the quest to make him complete me or vice versa. That is way too much of pressure on him and me. The completeness is an internal job. And it’s a deeply personal job, untainted by the pressures of what society thinks I should be. I will be doing the world an injustice if I choose to fade away and live in the shadows of what any man needs me to be, in order to love me. I will be negating my truth if I stay quiet about who I am. I will die a slow death if I succumb to any labels others place on me, as a result of their personal fight with their own significance. I cannot own any of that anymore. I speak loudly, I cannot be unseen. I leave a lasting impression.  I am unapologetic about it.

Being complete all by myself means that I can love without expectation, demand or fear. So when love came knocking at my door, magic was created because I am me, fully, and he is him, fully.

I am versed in a new lingo. It’s no longer, “you complete me” but rather “I see me, in you”. The point being, I see ME first. And that for me is the REAL love story here. It will never ever end.

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A Single Girl’s Take on Valentine’s Day

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , on February 2, 2016 by tivaniam

I hate Valentine’s Day. I’ve always hated Valentine’s Day. I don’t consider myself to be a cynic but the whole commercialised idea of love being glorified on one day of the year doesn’t appeal to me. Plus I have residual issues stemming from being the only girl in school who never got to gloat at the thrill of having to carry around a stuffed animal and/or obligatory red rose. I missed that whole fiasco.

The month of February seems to have become synonymous with love and romance that is grandiose. It gives hope to the broken and life to the otherwise forgotten. I’ve found though that desperate love is always the toughest way to do it and the pressure to find Mr Right can become all consuming and depressing.

Love is a disease in and of itself. Fortunately, I’ve long since parted ways with the girl I used to be – the days where I’d walk around with a high fever in my face, the poster child for a montage of every Adele song ever written. I’ve exhausted myself with the collective consequences of a lifetime of choices made out of chaotic passions, always the victim of my own optimism.

But, I’m not brooding. This isn’t a brooding essay. I have reached a level of contentment that comes with age and life experience. I’ve learnt that to love is to recognise yourself in another. Few of us can even comprehend the enormity of that. The longing to be recognised not on the level of form, but on the level of being. To become unstitched from below the surface, with a refusal to indulge in anything that’s less than passionate. I want to experience and hold on to the moments that remind me of me.

What’s wonderful about getting older is that love takes on a new meaning. It’s untainted by a physicality that’s superficial. It’s enmeshed in purity. It’s the inclusiveness of being joined with someone and becoming more than you would have been alone. A love that has no opposite.

But before that level of appreciation is had and as clichéd as this sounds, I’ve learnt that I need to Be the embodiment of love, to myself and others, in order to receive it in the way I want. It’s a consecration of sorts to the essence of who I am. This arising awareness makes me feel love that is True and Pure. A Divine dispensation if you will. And while romance is definitely a beautiful thing, true, authentic Love should be a celebration every day.

I’ll be buying myself a bunch of red roses tomorrow 🌷

Being Human

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , on October 26, 2015 by tivaniam

In an ideal world, when you reach a level of enlightenment and practice mindful behaviour, the notion of reverting to past rotten behaviour seems almost implausible.
In an ideal world.

In the real world, I am fallible. My humanness trumps my spirit. And while I am conscious enough to know this and do what I need to do to alter my state, I sometimes allow myself to dwell in the feeling for longer than I’d like.

Today was one such day. I got a trigger. Something that made my hair stand on end. I reacted so violently that I shocked myself. I got entirely lost in the moment of such utter despair and rage. Those emotions almost always are a mask to hide pain. So despite my previous effort in walking through it, of releasing it and forgiving myself and others, some residual pain clearly still lingered. I am disappointed that I chose to allow the old story to creep into my recently cleaned out system. And boy did it feel good to be a victim. I got alot of oohing and aahing from well intentioned friends which perpetuated my pity party and it lasted for hours. It was an exhaustive process trying to wrestle with my mind and heart.

To my benefit, I can call a spade a spade. Even if it’s applicable to my own stupidity. I’ve always been emotive so I allowed the feelings to come through like waves and instead of kicking, screaming and drowning myself, I just floated on waiting for it to subside.

I have learnt that even the most spiritually awake person will experience moments that test them to their core. When triggers happen, as they do, consider them to be tests of whether you’ve truly let go of the old story that’s become a narrative you know by heart. If you pass and stay focussed on the now, kudos to you. If, like me, you fail…well just have the awareness to call a timeout, feel the feeling, and move the fuck on.

The true beauty of presence is that while I may fall, I never stay down. And I’m actually ok with that. I don’t have tolerance for a spirituality that doesn’t encompass my humanness.
For me, while the ‘human’ aspect and the ‘being’ aspect have merged, operating from a ‘being’ level offers me an opportunity to be aware of where the old patterns emerge from and what to do to correct them. So even if the hissy fit is dramatic and causes a commotion, I have the insight and awareness to pull myself together one “I don’t give a fuck” at a time. 

And that folks is the road to transformation.

On Getting Proposed To

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on September 1, 2014 by tivaniam

I’ve been proposed to. I should be happy and excited because I’ve always wanted a romantic proposal. It just happened that marriage fell on me both times without me waiting patiently for the man to do some work.

But yes, I’ve been proposed to. He’s from India and found me on Facebook via a mutual friend. Seems like a nice guy – friendly smile and kind eyes from beneath the thick-rimmed black glasses. His profile picture looks decent enough. He stands leaning against a tuk-tuk wearing a shiny, grey, double-breasted pinstripe suit (circa 1970s era), white towelling socks clearly visible (given that the hem of the pants fall short of his ankle) and brown moccasins.

He sent me the sweetest private message:

Hullo Trivania

(Shame, maybe his eyesight problem prevents him from copy typing my clearly visible name?)

You modler or writer.

(Without a question mark at the end, I wasn’t altogether sure whether I actually had to respond to this, and assumed that he meant ‘model’ – sweet isn’t it?)

You so betiful.

(Beautiful I think he meant)

I really want you to marry me and come live India.

(Live IN India? – Either way, it’s a marriage proposal AND offer to travel! – woohoo)

I ran farm and got chickens and we can have boy baby.

(Riiiggghht)

Yours Rajeshwar

So, never having been proposed to before, I had to indulge in proper etiquette. I replied:

Dear Rajeshwar

Thank you for your sweet message, and the kind offer of marriage. I have to say that it took me by surprise considering we’ve never met neither have we been ‘arranged’ to meet but stranger things have happened! I am really glad that you are a self-sufficient businessman especially in tough economic times but I have to say that the thought of living on a farm in rural India, doesn’t appeal to me. Further, I already have children, one being a boy, so won’t be looking to have any more.

Thank you very much, but I am going to have to decline the offer of marriage and wish you well. Perhaps look for someone in your village? It makes sense after all.

Warm regards

Tivania

Two days later, thinking the conversation was over and the novelty of my proposal having worn off, I received the following message from my would-be suitor:

Hokay Hokay. Will make proposal. I come.

Best find my one and only Sari then.

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