Who am I?

Every brilliant writer experiences writer’s block. It often comes in waves and is extremely hard to work through. I, myself, am currently experiencing writer’s block. So, I’m going to do the only thing I know how to do, write. I’m not sure where this will go, but I’m still going to write nevertheless.

I felt as though I lost my personal spark- the fire and passion that always allowed me to be creative. I recently went through a very big heartbreak that rewired my brain completely. I learned a great deal from this relationship, and I don’t think I would’ve taken so many risks without her, which helped me build key fundamentals in my life. But that was my problem. My spark was her.

My creativity is alchemy; I can flow and be creative when I experience strong emotions. And boy, did I feel when I was with her. However, over time, my creativity became solely focused on her. It was unhealthy. I poured everything I had into her because I believed I would never experience such real love again. But this devotion drained me. I became so unhappy with myself trying to be everything I thought I should be for her. That wasn’t who I am. My authenticity faded more and more each day she was in my life. I couldn’t blame her; we both didn’t know what was happening. The turning point came the first time we officially broke up: I was seventeen and moving across the country. Though devastated, I initiated it. I knew I couldn’t continue living the way I was, especially in a new place where I wanted to experience a new and fulfilling beginning.

I ended many things and situations during this period. I lost friends, but I’m thankful that the ones that were meant to stay were able to come back. I met and experienced new people. It was nerve-wracking. But I did it anyway. However, at the back of my mind was her. I felt like being myself meant betraying her. I hated it. Yet, I still found myself running back to her. I felt alone, and she was all I knew. It was wrong to crave her. But I didn’t know how to be myself without her. So my resentment started to turn back into love.

For some context, I never had good relationships. I always found myself with people who took advantage of me. I was either cheated on or badly damaged. But that wasn’t her. We weren’t healthy together, but we were stable. All I ever wanted was stability. So, of course, I clung onto it and tried to control the outcome. For a long time, I thought she was the love of my life. The one I was supposed to marry after all that we’ve been through. But it wasn’t love the way I thought love should be. So I questioned my worth. All the time. It was exhausting. And I was exhausted. But I thought I was ready for that level of commitment, so I fought for it. By the time my resentment turned back into love, my feelings were confused. And she was slipping away. I had to make a decision. So I tried to get her back.

We tried to be friends, because we were best friends. But that meant hearing about other women she was with. I couldn’t handle it. Then I moved back home and everything changed. She used to say that while I was away, “I lost myself” and that she “didn’t know who I was anymore”. She thought she knew me. And she did, but she only knew one version of me. So I went through an identity crisis. And you may think- how could one person make you feel like you don’t know yourself at all? I thought the same thing. But by now, I had no core identity. My identity revolved around her. So maybe she was right, and I didn’t know myself at all. But I knew something needed to change.

And it did. I found out she was juggling between another woman and me, and that is when I felt my entire world crumble. I had to let her go. She was becoming everything I ran from in my past. So, the idealization and pedestal I put her on snapped. And so did I. This time, I decided it was time to be alone. It was long overdue. But this meant letting her go, and meaning it. So I did. I talked with her and told her this was a situation I can’t carry anymore. Not when I was blindly in love to the point where I couldn’t love myself without her. It hurt to say, and I know it hurt her to hear. But it was real. I wrote to her as well. Because what I can’t say, I write. Then I mailed the letter and the last remaining bits of love I had left to her. And suddenly, my world went quiet.

It was now the new year, and I was doing everything in my power to regain control of my own life. I wanted to be more sensual with the world. I have a lot of love to give, and I had to learn to stop giving it out romantically and start pouring that love into myself and those I have around me. I was slowly starting to become stable in who I am. I did yoga every day to regain my grounding, yet I never had it in me to actually try to figure out why I lost myself so deeply in this one specific bond. I have borderline personality disorder, as well as many other disorders. But this was the second time my illness greatly impacted my life due to a relationship. It took me years to recover from the first one. So I did what I thought was best, but I ignored it. I focused on my spirituality- who I was meant to become in my spiritual craft. But nothing was moving. I didn’t know why, and I thought I was doing everything wrong. Then I met him.

We met at a point in life where I thought I was stable. We both weren’t looking for a relationship, but things were different between us. We grew into what we had. We learned from each other, and we held each other accountable. It was like looking in a mirror. Both burdened by our past, trying to act like we weren’t for the sake of the other. I was his haven, but he was my quiet chaos. While we were both extremely emotionally open, we refused to speak about why we were crumbling. We both knew why. But the words would crumble the foundation that we built. So we both crumbled in silence. The “stability” I thought I had was unraveling every day. I stopped doing yoga, and I stopped being me all over again. But I never let him know that. Because while my stability was fading, so was his. The tough exterior, the “I’m better off alone” mentality, and feeling like he could only survive in this world alone started to slip, and that terrified him. So, we both resorted to our own survival tactics. I chased while trying to control. And he ran out of fear of what would happen if he stayed. We were designed to fail.

Eventually, what we had fizzled out because of our own traumas; that’s what hit me the hardest. If we had built the right foundation, perhaps we could have done it right, but we were built on survival, not safety. Now, I don’t know how he is doing, and if I were the same girl as when I first met him, I would’ve reached out by now to figure it out. However, I can’t, so I won’t. Instead, I try to write my thoughts, using that process to regain a sense of control over my own life since I can’t control others. Learning this was a crucial lesson for me. That’s why I need to retreat: to figure out who I am and to love her, before I can give or receive love in the way I always desired.

stopped doing yoga, and I stopped being me all over again. But I never let him know that. Because while my stability was fading, so was his. The tough exterior, the “I’m better off alone” mentality, and feeling like he could only survive in this world alone started to slip, and that terrified him. So, we both resorted to our own survival tactics. I chased while trying to control. And he ran out of fear of what would happen if he stayed. We were designed to fail.

Eventually, what we had fizzled out because of our own traumas; that’s what hit me the hardest. If we had built the right foundation, perhaps we could have done it right, but we were built on survival, not safety. Now, I don’t know how he is doing, and if I were the same girl as when I first met him, I would’ve reached out by now to figure it out. However, I can’t, so I won’t. Instead, I try to write my thoughts, using that process to regain a sense of control over my own life since I can’t control others. Learning this was a crucial lesson for me. That’s why I need to retreat: to figure out who I am and to love her, before I can give or receive love in the way I always desired.

During this phase of my life, my focus is on myself. I’m done chasing love when I already hold so much within me; it’s my nature, something the world has tried to take but can never remove. I won’t run from myself any longer. I am someone who takes up space, laughs too loudly, cares deeply, and is kind and loving. Most of all, I am an intellectual who still needs to grow. I have spent so long teaching others that I forgot my own journey is unfinished. I might feel lost, but each day brings me closer to knowing myself, and that matters most. I see that my “mean and unbothered” side is just a protective shell, not my essence. It’s how I survived when the world wasn’t kind to the real, soft, caring,free-spirited, animal-loving, curly-haired beauty that I shunned away because I thought she was too much. But the truth is, she was never too much; she was just not enough. I didn’t take care of her by shielding her. I thought I was protecting her. But that meant hiding her— hiding who I am. I am protected. Divinely. Therefore, I don’t have to hide her anymore. I don’t want to hide her anymore. I don’t want to hide who I am anymore, so I won’t. My name is Ta’Niyah, and my favorite color is cherry red. My favorite princess is Ariel. I have wild curly hair, I love animals, and my friends. I love the concept of love. I take up space, I overgive and overshare. I laugh loudly and proudly. I love writing, reading, dancing, singing, being spiritual, and being nurturing. I want to be a mother and a partner. I love talking, and I am me. And now that I know that, I am ready for the world to see that. So, ready or not, world, here I fucking come.