Picasso said there are two types of women, goddesses and doormats. He was wrong. There are three. The third is the Warrior. This is the story of my death and how I came back to life. A love story.
Miracles do happen.
Thoughts become things.
Time takes time & time is distance.
Love is everything.
Left knee, right foot.
A warrior must understand the battlefield. There are leaders, there are followers, and there are cowards that will survive due to being at the right place at the right time with the right people. There are idiots and geniuses and life is not fair. A warrior fights for their light in the dark when it appears to have been blown out. A warrior lets pain in and develops their weapon from it. A warrior will always be on the outside because their strength is unparalleled and with this strength comes a duty. A warrior must know both when to cut the weak and when to save them. Patience, tactic, clarity of victory, and most of all deep love are traits that create a warrior.
Life is a constant act of breaking up with yourself, it’s important to let go. To become a warrior, you will have to break up with yourself, your ego, and kill the old you.
Listen to this track and fully experience this story.
It was exactly two years ago. October 31st, when the clock struck midnight, on All Hallows Eve was when it happened, when I died. In my first life, I had never experienced love, I had never seen true love or the act of selflessness other than in the movies, and it’s harrowing when you find out life is not like the movies. I was always waiting for the grand gesture, for someone to save me. I’d even create situations and wait all day to be saved in hopes someone would just be there when I fell. Young girls are taught that Prince Charming will fight for you with true love’s kiss and build you a castle away from the dark forest, but no one came to my rescue. I thought I was doing everything right. I was a good person for the most part, but flakey with my word. I didn’t sleep around and I didn’t play games with anyone, I always gave my whole heart. I educated myself so much that I started my true life off in debt, always owing someone something. I applied for my dreams because I deserved them but never landed. I was a spotter that couldn’t land. I could read people in less than a second and I could forecast the future, but it all meant nothing. My life was completely meaningless because of one reason, love.
If you can say that a particular person loves you more than anyone else in the world, then you need to take a moment and listen to what you are saying. There is only one person who should love you more than anyone, and that is yourself. Who does the goddess love the most? Why is she depicted solo in art throughout time?
What stands the test of time?
Stories of moral. Who stands the test of time? The hero, the one that fought to be their ultimate self.
On the night of October 31st, I was drunk and sleeping in my friend’s spare bedroom in Brentwood in a pumpkin costume when I woke up and saw I had an email from my then boyfriend. For the first time in my life, someone truly loved all of me. His name was Nick. He was my first love. We all experience our first loves at different points in our lives, but I didn’t find it until my mid-twenties. I’m an intimate person and I know that the love I seek is very different and deep because of circumstance and it’s just who I am. I love differently. Grand gestures were an understatement when it came to Nick. If he could, he would have put all the weight and pain of the people he loved on his shoulders. Toward the end, he just didn’t know how to help me because there was no me, I existed without a purpose. He had sent me to Paris and Barcelona to write and soul search, his family welcomed me unlike my own, he offered to pay off my student loans, and I would have had it all with him, but to me, that wasn’t enough. No matter what he did, he wasn’t enough. Why? Because I wasn’t enough and we simply were not meant to be. With Nick, I felt trapped like I was burried deep in the ground scratching at my coffin hoping to see a glimpse of sunlight one last time. I hadn’t realized that I was giving up on life. A barista at Peet’s coffee asked me once, “Do you want kids with your boyfriend?” I said no and he responded, “Then he’s not the one.” I never wanted kids and he did, and soon. The barista was right, in my second life, I was born to be a mom and he wasn’t the one.
I’m a runner. A physical runner, a runner of dreams, and a runner toward the great escape. Running keeps my light on. I didn’t run once during my time with Nick.
“Melanie, you’re suffering and I don’t know how to help you” cried Nick.
I was angry at everything and self sabotaged and did not know how to give or receive the smallest of things like a simple gift to the most powerful things, love. I remember I went to an acupuncturist who told me, “I think you’re not feeling well because you need true love in your life.” I was so offended, but it must have been written all over me.
Halloween night, I hit him where it hurt. I wanted to see how far Prince Charming would go before he’d give up. I broke my own heart. A broken heart is an understatement, it was suicide.
After I read his email explaining all my wonderful traits, but why I was getting fired and that I was immediately terminated, I tried calling him and it went straight to voicemail. I went on social media to find nothing, he was gone, every digital trail of him disappeared. I got up and raced across the 405 freeway. Knowing his mother was visiting him that weekend, I quietly broke into his house by squeezing my body through a six inch window crack while hoping that his 200 pound dog wasn’t going to attack me. Yes it was painful, but I’d rather have every bone in my body broken and beat then to ever have to relive that day again. I woke him up and when he opened his eyes, he too had died. He had nothing left to give me because he loved me more than he loved himself and later I learned that his mother disapproved, she was the boss. Imagine the devastation. Two people who loved each other so much, sitting face to face, knowing that it wasn’t going to work. The difference with Nick was that he had so much love in his life. The amount of people that would jump in front of a truck for this guy is uncountable… But there was only one person that would jump in front of a truck for me, and that was him, and he was gone.
I spend holidays alone because it’s never been a happy occasion with my own family. On Christmas I feed the homeless and try to just be in the sun and wait for the day to be over. Funny thing is, I love Christmas and the magic behind it. I’m a very festive person. I never knew of a happy family holiday until Nick. I spent Thanksgiving and Christmas with him and his family did everything to make me feel like I was part of them and loved. I hadn’t realized how much it meant to me, until they were just all gone. I didn’t know how to accept love, why did all these people suddenly love me when they knew nothing about me? Was it real or fake? Why did they want to add me on Facebook? Why did I feel uncomfortable by his mother? Why did my gut tell me to run? I didn’t get it, that good families were real. His step dad once said, “Mel, we love you.” Love is a strong word that I don’t take lightly.
Nick could barely stand, he almost had a heart attack. We talked and he told me that he needed time, knew I was the one, we’d get back together, and he would never abandon me. He said, “I will talk to you after the new year.” Until then, he needed time. The poor guy even cried when Christmas was mentioned, knowing I would be alone.
Then there was nothing… but a date. January 1, at midnight.
Feel it. Listen.
I did everything I could… for Nick. I wrote every day, I went into therapy, and I ran and ran and ran until I collapsed every night. I brought people back into my life that I had shut out. I went home to Hanford for the first time in 4 years. I was too sad to eat alone because I had gotten used to eating every day with someone, which resulted in me becoming emaciated skinny. During this time, I learned more about Nick then I had when I was with him. Embarrassed to admit, but I obsessed. Like I said in the beginning, THOUGHTS BECOME THINGS. Anything you think will come true, so be careful. As much of an angel Nick was, he was not perfect by any means. My uncomfortable feelings toward his mother were confirmed when I had learned that she wrote the breakup email and he pushed send. He was 7 years older than me and he had his mom dump me. She fired people for a living and was very successful at it. She had to know everything about her son and even bought herself a bed to keep in his house. She was a nice person, but manipulative and that scared me. Freedom from toxic family members was everything to me. I learned that Nick molded to me, he wasn’t his own person. When you meet someone, you search for compatibility, a reflection of what you want in yourself. Nick came off as this outdoor adventure extra creative man. He tried to like the things I liked, like the sun and water, but he was bubble boy – pale, extremely out of shape, and got a rash if a drop of salt water touched his skin. He could go a lifetime without being in the sun and I can’t go five minutes.
As I wrote and ran, I wrote about a woman who had the choice of two life paths and who she became at the end of each path. It was up to the reader to decide what was the best path as everyone’s dreams are different. With Nick, she would have ended up living in a nice house, she would have played it safe, she would have been obligated to a lot of people, her privacy would have been limited because his mother would have ended up being her neighbor, and nothing would ever be spontaneous. Her path was clear, simple, and she would be loved for life. For many women, this would be a nice life, but she was always going to wonder… about everything. Without Nick, this woman would end up an old asian lady with wrinkles and crazy bright hair and kids would stare at her wondering what epic stories she had. This woman would have taken many paths and made many mistakes, but she did everything she could do to fulfil that unsatisfied feeling of curiosity.
As I wrote more, I learned that Nick along with many other factors were all part of an avoidance to fearlessly push toward my dreams. My dreams had died. I had never known who I really was. I started college when I was 16 and then went straight to grad school. After grad school, I just hated everything and focused on the past instead of trying to navigate. Then I met Nick and figured, okay I love this man, so maybe this is my life. This is the end.
How could he love someone who didn’t even know who she was?
“Melanie, when you figure out what you want, it will be explosive. There will be no stopping you. You just have to figure out what you want.”
said Nick during one of our never ending talks. We never stopped talking, there was always something brilliant and extra ordinary to talk about.
Nick broke up with me and then I broke up with me. I killed me.
After the fucking new year.
Do you know what happens after the new year? A lot. Resolutions are wonderful to have and can be created at anytime, but milestones are important and there is a powerful energy when people all over the world decide to improve themselves when the clock strikes midnight all at once. It’s like when people go to one place of worship at the same time all for the greater good… There are unexplainable powers and energies that can both lift you up and bury you. It’s important to trust in the magic. Magic is very real.
“Are you a goddess or a doormat?”
insisted an angel of that time. She picked up every call every time I couldn’t move. I would sit in my car for hours and sometimes sleep in it. “Are you a goddess or a doormat?”
I was in San Francisco, in a silky red goddess dress. I felt so clear. I was ready for Nick, everything was going to be different. I fucked up and I had done the work. I was no longer blind and all I needed was one last chance… The most important thing in life is love and family and being true to you and I was going to tell him everything I had learned. My heart was exploding.
The clock hit midnight and I called him on the dot and it went straight to voicemail. That night, an angel named Allie held me as I cried on a mattress in a hallway of her cold apartment. I already knew the end to this story, but it didn’t mean I wasn’t going to do everything in my power to change it. I have always believed that nothing was impossible and that belief carried on into my second life because that belief is what brought me back from the dead. I knew the moment he broke up with me he would move on fast because he was looking to date someone like his mom and he was a settler, ready to commit and mold to anyone. I knew his mother was going to sway his opinion. I had seen the future so clear, but didn’t want to face it. Nick is someone who needs a woman to tell him what to do at all times, and I was no longer that. He was a doormat I walked all over and so did everyone else.
Nick never unblocked me and I never saw him again. I cried for 126 days straight, ran over 1000 miles, got a new job, wrote and wrote and wrote, and all I wanted was closure. I knew it was over, but I just wanted to say goodbye. The strength it took to not drive to his house, which was minutes from mine just to give him a hug goodbye. Every night I’d say, tonight is the night I’m going to face him. I’d get in my car and scream and drive for hours in the opposite direction. I didn’t want to be a doormat standing at the door of someone who simply didn’t want me. Oh, the dark roads I would go down before the sunrise. One morning, I’m remember waking up at 6am and feeling his presence. Hours later I opened my front door to see that Nick had left all my things, right there, right where a doormat should be. Why couldn’t he face me like a man? How could him and his family say, “I love you” and then dispose so easily of someone they loved without just saying goodbye. I had my issues, but I was a kind person. The day I stopped crying was the day I learned of Nick’s new love. He fell in love with me fast and fell in love with her even faster. He was already with her the day he dropped my things off and scurried away. Their relationship developed as the same story of the girl before me, with me, and now after me.
The day I stopped crying I learned something, I was still breathing.
Breath is life. We can go without food for weeks and water for days, but what is one thing we cannot live without for a few minutes? Breath.
What do you do after the new year? You breathe.
There are no words for how broken I would have to become until I began to heal. I am so blessed to have had a few that picked up the phone without question as I cried, but I really had no one. Nick was right, I was suffering and no one could help me. I called my dad for the first time and cried to him and although he listened, he just talked about the problems he was having with his girlfriend. The man I always sought, didn’t exist. Breakups are so painful because every insecurity you’ve had since you were a child comes to the surface. Another angel told me, “Right now, you have to be the mother and father you never had and take care of yourself like a child. You are a baby that needs to learn to protect yourself to survive.”
“Are you a goddess or a doormat?”
I remember hugging myself and feeling the bones sticking out of my back. All my life I had wanted to be skinny, but this skinny was not pretty. The day I was able to eat breakfast again, I remember, I ate a steak.
I read a book called When Things Fall Apart. It told me to look at the gorilla in the mirror, and I did. I was a caged animal. I had long brown hair that I’d cry over if it was cut an inch too short, my clothes were all things I never felt comfortable in, my friends were all people I didn’t identify with, my job was in an industry I had nothing but hate for, my sexuality was immature, and my individuality was hiding in shame. There that ugly gorilla was, banging her chest screaming “Let me the fuck out!”
I’ve traveled the world and I’m most comfortable in a place where no one knows me. Not many people knew me anyhow, but the things I did when no-one was watching was when I felt the most free. Why did I want no one to watch me?
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How to be your ultimate self?
The most painful breakup you can go through is when you breakup with yourself. It wasn’t that losing Nick was the culprit to the pain, it was that I didn’t want me either. The person I was, was not my ultimate self and if I didn’t love me, how could I expect someone else to?
While breathing, I slowly realized that the 1000 miles I ran, was run without anyone else by my side. Something from nothing was building. I don’t know where mercy and God came in, but the universe showed me mercy. I didn’t recognize that I had entered my second life. I felt different, everything was so deeply different, but no one else knew. It took time to fully enter my new life because time takes time and time is distance. I started to live like no one was and is watching. After everything, I believed in love more than ever and that’s what brought me back to life. I started to lead each day with love and the questions, “Am I being my ultimate self? Do I love this?” That’s when it all began….
My love story!
I left the industry I was working in because I didn’t love it. I dropped my clients because they didn’t make me feel good. I started wearing bindis and shiney things because they made me happy. I chopped my hair off like a warrior does when he loses his powers. I have always felt different, powerful, and that I emit something others don’t, so I decided to look the way I feel. I threw out all my dresses and heels and makeup and just started to armour myself with what makes me appear as the exotic breed that I am. I started to surf to get away from my phone because I don’t love my phone. “Left knee right foot” is my new mantra to stand on my board. Every day I lead with love and when I’m down, even if there is 5 minutes left in the day, I ask myself “How can I turn today into a victory?”
It started with sadness, then morphed into anger. I began to box, physically box. I did all the things I couldn’t do with Nick, like stand in the sun, run on mountains, eat red meat, and party my ass off. The anger did nothing. I had to knock myself out and surrender my ego. Fuck doing anything regarding Nick, fuck myself, fuck my past, fuck it all… It’s time to be kind.
Love songs never resonated with me until I started to love myself. Suddenly Ed Sheeran songs made sense. Ever sing a love song to yourself? If you haven’t, try. Sing it to you, for you.
I let go of the pain by facing a lot of demons. No warrior wins a war without losing battles first, but imagine if a warrior cowardly hid in fear because he was still bruised from the last battle? The thing is, pain never goes away. Thoughts become things and what happened existed and that energy carries, but it’s what made me into the now. I can still be hurt, but nothing really hurts me for too long anymore. I used to say that I had baggage, but that baggage has become power. It’s just all so beautiful and I cherish it. I walk into every room the most powerful person. I know what death feels like, I’ve been there, and no one can kill me but me.
When is the last time you said, “I had the best day of my life?” Two months ago, I had the best day of my life. It was a day that reminded me who I was born to be and what I wanted. To be your ultimate self, you need to know what you want and if you don’t know, you need to fucking be relentless until you do.
Ever watch crazy little kids make weird noises with their mouths and scream for no reason while smiling and then rolling on the ground and acting really weird? When is the last time you just made weird fucking noises because that’s just what you inherently felt like bursting out and doing? I started to make weird noises and you know what, people started to listen. People take photos of me when I’m doing it sometimes. People approach me just to ask me what is it about me. That is power, nothing else but power.
There are days I go dance without music in the sand, I probably look like a floppy hippo, but you know what, when was the last time you were that free? So silly that we get embarrassed by just moving our bodies differently or sounding differently. When you get uncomfortable, that’s when you learn.
The Art of War can be applied to all aspects of life. You must be tactical and move with purpose. To be a warrior, you must be your highest self and your highest self will not be received well by many others. You will experience jealousy, egos, and people who you think are your friends will secretly hope for you to fail because your power will make them uncomfortable. It’s easier to hope for someone different to fail than to win, because that means you might be doing something wrong in your bubble if you aren’t winning too. Not everyone can be a warrior and not everyone is brave. This doesn’t make them bad or less than, this just means a warrior has a duty to show strength when they cannot.
The Last Generation was created as part of my becoming a warrior. This is me. It is not just a website, it’s my best foot forward in my second life. What you see is what you get. I’m finally completely free and truly happy inside. Recently, someone that I thought would champion my becoming has made it a point to not acknowledge The Last Generation or the true me coming out. This person told me they “worried for my stability” and it was just a website and that people make websites every day. Before my death, I would have cared so much for the approval of others, but this person’s disapproval made me more ready to fight for my victory. Not everyone will see me, and that’s okay. A warrior knows how to quietly watch and read people. A warrior doesn’t stop because one person told them their path to victory was unstable. Yes, I was unstable in my past life, a life lived by a girl who hid behind her hair and boyfriend and who was defined by her past and parents mistakes.
My first life haunts me, the ghost of that meaningless person. When you choose to breakup with yourself, you will be tested by your old life. You will be haunted by many ghosts of the past. Remember that you can be whomever you want to be and no one will fight for you but you. Those ghosts can weep and wallow and you can simply walk right through their apparitions. In the end, your test will be with God and God will ask, “Why did you stand with ghosts that brought you nothing? What was the meaning of your life?”
Breaking up with yourself means breaking up with other people that do not serve you or SEE YOU. Other people are everything. We were brought to this planet to travel and live in packs, so when you break from the pack, you must find a new one, or build your own. I am working on building my pack and letting go of my old one. I struggle with what to let go of from my past life. I am human. A warrior can share a battlefield with those who disagree because no one warrior is the same, but after the battle is won, they do not need to travel the same road to remain in peace.
I am not a doormat. I am not a goddess. I do not need adornment or to be an aphrodite. I have scars and my hands are callused. I have a duty to not stand pretty, but to fight for victories. A warrior fights for palaces and goddess art to exist. A warrior fights for the doormats that cannot fight for themselves. A warrior knows when it’s time to retreat and return. A warrior can get weak and must balance rest and training. A warrior fights for one thing, love.
What do you love?
This is my love story. My ultimate self started with love. I made a promise to myself, to not do anything, say anything, be around, or work on anything if I did not love it. I love the mornings, so I wake up for sunrises. I love running, so I run for my light every chance I get. I tell people to find what makes them run for their fucking light and to do it every day. When I’m down, I run, and the light that is burning out ignites into flames. I set goals and have written them on my wall and read them every morning. I found what is my poison and work hard to stay away from it.
What is your poison?
A warrior has weaknesses, but those weaknesses are what makes a warrior train harder and harder. A warrior has picked their weapon and will spend a lifetime learning to master it. A warrior is a hero to someone and that someone is theirself. A warrior trusts their gut because they believe magic is real. A warrior knows when to let go.
My dream is to be someone’s hero. My dream is to never look back and say I could have. I don’t wish, I know. I see me and that’s the only thing that matters now.
I’m still waiting for the grand gesture, that real love, because I am a grand gesture with so much love inside. If I exist, then there’s hope. I’m a probable narcissist, and I’m okay with that.
During my first life, I breathed and existed. During my death, my demons tormented me. During my resurrection, I was set free. This is the story of my death.
I killed the old me and it was painful, but I’m glad she’s dead.
Miracles do happen.
Thoughts become things.
Time takes time & time is distance.
Love is everything.
Left knee, right foot.
A warrior must understand the battlefield. There are leaders, there are followers, and there are cowards that will survive due to being at the right place at the right time. There are idiots and geniuses and life is not fair. A warrior fights for their light in the dark when it appears to have been blown out. A warrior lets pain in and develops their weapon with it. A warrior will always be on the outside because their strength is unparalleled and with this strength comes a duty. A warrior must know both when to cut the weak and when to save them. Patience, tactic, clarity of victory, and most of all deep love are traits the create a warrior.
MORAL OF THIS STORY
Look this way, have these things, don’t move that way, do what you’re told. You’re my best friend today and my worst enemy tomorrow. Today we feed off of other people’s failures, celebrity culture, and things that mean nothing. We’re taught to act, talk, and walk like a goddess, but not how to lead with the heart and mind of one. It’s an important time to build and train warriors for the bigger battles we are and will be facing. We dispose of people so easily and use the word love without true meaning. The moral is love and love is the moral.
You have one life. Who gives a fuck what other people think. If you aren’t living as your ultimate self then the true you doesn’t exist.
Are you a goddess? Are you a doormat? Or are you a WARRIOR?
I hear Picasso was quite the dick.
If you’ve read all the way down here, you probably should subscribe R.N.
Thank you to all the angels that lifted me up when I couldn’t do it myself. You know who you are.
Note: Music by Just Because, song titled, Everything. I am just a super fan who feels so much from this song, not making any profit… But I wish I was! Thank you Just Because for creating Everything. I’ll keep dancing. If you’d like me to take it down, I will. Love and light! xo