well goddamn it has been a minute since I’ve typed out a blog.

I mean truly, what year is it?

Remember when I used to blog all of the time??

It used to be the absolute best way for me to cope and process all of the swirling chaos that was my life for so long.

But then blogging became *lame* and people started filming videos for the clock app instead.

No one really wants to read a blog anymore, right?

No one has any remnants of an attention span anymore… right???

No one cares about the torment that is my past love life anymore….. right!???!!?

I’m really hoping that you’ll prove me wrong.

Even though I just spent approximately 2.5 hours scrolling through the clock app.

No one is perfect OKAY.


Anyways,

On Friday, 7.29.22 I released a single called “Relapse.”

If you haven’t listened to it yet,

  1. are we even friends?
  2. it’s definitely got swirling chaos energy so
  3. if you ever enjoyed any of the blogs I wrote, you may potentially enjoy that song maybe

I wanted to write just a little something about the inspiration behind the song and all of the processing that continues to occur years after it was written,

in a swirling chaos kind of way.

I was in an on and off “relationship” for about 7 years.

That’s right, 7.

That’s right, “relationship”

It was more of a best friendship turned trauma bond,

a let’s-hang-out-for-15 hours-and-cancel-every-other-plan-we-had-for-the-week, type deal,

a life lesson disguised as a twin flame imprint, if you will.

(I’m assuming if you’ve read my blog then you’ve read twilight. the research is there I just haven’t gathered it)

I don’t think I could put it more plainly than that.

Over the course of those 7 years, I wrote songs.

Dozens of songs.

Hundreds of poems.

Thousands of drunken rants in my notes app.

I was a woman possessed.

And through all of those scraps of sentences and metaphors and letters to myself that began with the phrase, “BECCA, CALM THE HELL DOWN.”

(I’m not even joking)

I began to process bits and pieces of the swirling chaos that was this “situationship.”

I decided to downgrade it.

It was a very large pill to swallow once I realized I had dedicated some of the most enthusiastic, romantic, and optimistic years of my life to someone who didn’t care if I got hit by a bus.

Unless he could profit off of the pity somehow.

I gave this man my youth.

I know I’m still hot and young but damn.

My most well-crafted lyrics were dedicated to someone who once referred to me as a “quick fix” in his own writings.

So why was I so hellbent on the idea of us being together and fulfilling the prophecy of us being Johnny and June reincarnated?

I may have lost my marbles…slightly.

So how did I go from being hopelessly dedicated to a human potato,

to an independent lady who is finally capable of having a healthy, wonderful relationship?

I will share all of my secrets.


  1. I made a quick little timeline of my life, emphasizing the years that I became pathetic

I wrote down all of the times this man had upset me. Or really any time anybody had upset me in the past 7 years. I made notes about when we came back together, when forgiveness was gifted and boundaries immediately blurred. I pieced it all together until I had a general timeline of my life.

Then I saw an immediate cycle. It had always been there and I had always known we were in a rut, but actually seeing the cycle of how we’d be buds and then spending every second together and then he’d do something so incredibly horrible that I cut him out immediately and then months or weeks of space and writing, and then BAM I miss him. One of us reaches out and back down the rabbit hole we go.

I was doing the SAME thing over and over and over again. Hundreds of times from what I gathered, and not only with him. I had been living in this cycle with multiple people for YEARS. He was just the prominent one that uncovered the rest of my insanity. I immediately thought “I’ve been having the same conflict with the same characters over and over again for almost a decade.”

It’s almost like when you watch a comfort show or movie over and over again because you know exactly what’s going to happen and who’s going to betray who and how the ending always is. I had made these relationships my comfort show. I knew exactly what they would do to me each time we tried again, yet I allowed it because I felt comfortable in the outcome. I knew it wouldn’t kill me and I knew I’d forgive them again anyways. Why was I doing this? So my working theory is I had a massive fear of commitment and allowing myself to be loved the way I was truly worthy of it because of lack of self esteem or some shit like that? Idk I’m still in therapy.

2. When the moment came, I made a different choice.

So what happens in a cycle? The same shit over and over again. Exactly right. So how do you break out of something like that? One of you needs to make a different choice. So when you haven’t been speaking for three months and you REALLy miss them and you just watched a REALLY sad movie about lost lovers who were supposed to end up together but didn’t and you REALLY hate yourself because you’re stalking their instagram and who liked their recent post and so you send a quick text or like one of their photos to be coy, just don’t. I know that sounds impossible, but hear me out.

Love addiction is incredibly difficult, but also kind of predictable. I know that I won’t miss them forever. I know that withdrawals only last so long and then I’m on the up and up again. I know that as soon as I give in to a relapse (hehe) I will hate myself and it honestly doesn’t feel as good or satisfy my heart like I thought it would. Going back to the wrong person over and over again is disappointing. You’ve spent days, weeks, or months romanticizing their greatest hits. It’s almost as if anger and betrayal and broken hearts fade but love doesn’t. The good things don’t fade like the bad things do. So when you miss them and look back on this “shituationship” (I downgraded again) all you feel are warm, fuzzy and passionate feelings. All of that icky stuff has faded or simmered down. It only bubbles back up when you’re with them and it STILL sucks. It never feels quite as good as you think it’s going to when you’re back with them.

I still remember the moment that I made a different choice. I was home in bed. I hadn’t seen him in 6 months and I was in a different relationship. I missed being friends with him but I knew it would be impossible. The withdrawals started, but I didn’t give in. I held strong.

But then one night at 11pm.

BAM.

He calls me.

I stared at my phone as it just buzzed in my hand.

I started thinking “Oh god he’s drunk in a ditch somewhere. He needs me. If I don’t go then he’ll die. He’s in a depressive state. If something bad happens then that’s on me. I should answer. I have to answer.”

But I continued to just stare at my phone.

And then,

silence.

I didn’t answer.

I didn’t text him the next day.

I just went on like nothing ever happened.

He later told me when we ran into each other that he basically WAS drunk in a ditch somewhere and needed me but I didn’t answer.

Did I almost throw up?

Absolutely.

Was he my responsibility?

Absolutely not.

It is 100% possible to make a different choice when the cycle starts to pull you back in. It’s uncomfortable. It goes against every screaming fiber in your body, but that’s addiction baby. You have to re-wire your brain by breaking out of that cycle.

3. Love yourself just as you loved them

I wasn’t the biggest fan of myself for a long time. I didn’t care about what I put on my body or what I ate or my living space or how I spent my time. My entire existence was to please another person. Not cute !!!

After I broke the cycle, he came back up one or two more times. I will say, the cycle damn near pulled me in again but I stayed strong. Now it’s just second nature.

I spent a year and a half by myself. No dating, really.

I moved into a place by myself and furnished it with things that make me so happy.

I went for walks in my new neighborhood that happens to be my favorite part of town.

I started buying myself flowers for my dining room table

I took pottery classes and poetry classes and acting classes

I fell in love with painting

I worked on my music like a crazy person

My creative energy exploded into like 8 different channels

I made new friends

I went out by myself didn’t want to hide in a corner due to lack of self esteem.

I developed a skincare routine !!

I read the entire bible

I learned how to cook and bake

I learned how to take care of curly hair

I continued to write songs and poems and drunken notes in my phone to further process what had happened

I started releasing art inspired by him.

I started inspiring myself.

I figured out all the things that made me happy and all of the people who don’t deplete me of energy and love and I held onto them

The rest were given boundaries or nothing at all.

When you’re forced to spend time alone, you really figure out who you are.

It’s been a total game changer for me.

I know that those 7 years were not a waste of time, ultimately.

Do I wish I had made different decisions?

Absolutely.

But I learned so much about myself and about love and it led me to where I am now,

A somewhat stable bitch with a terrifying work ethic and all the love I could possibly ask for.


Every person I’ve spoken to about this situation always responds with something like,

“Oh yeah I have one of those, an on off again will they won’t they from hell.”

So I thought I’d compile some of those tips that helped me (even though I have truly no idea what I’m talking about, I just have vast experience in this department) and also maybe promote my song and also write a blog because I miss it.

Thanks for reading this far and for listening to the song! Here it is,

Relapse Links

I’m going to continue drinking my 3rd cup of coffee today and not texting anybody toxic,

Because unironically,

I can indeed quit whenever I want.

I’ve always felt so strange staring out the window of a plane.

It almost seems… fake? 

Like there’s no way I’m floating thousands of feet above the earth right now.

There’s no way that those itty bitty little toy cars on those plastic streets could be driving around Nashville or Dallas or Salt Lake below me.

I guess if you really think about it, it seems a bit alarming.

The other thing is I’m always shocked at how neat the land and the buildings and the farms and the cities look from up above.

When you’re walking along city streets or driving on winding back roads,

The layout doesn’t make much sense does it?

But when you’re above the clouds staring at our earth like a museum goer stares at a magnificent painting, it all seems to make sense.

There are shapes that are impossibly symmetrical. Roads that move effortlessly with rivers and lakes. Suburbs that look so meticulously planned out that it baffles me.

You wouldn’t even know how planned and intentional it all is unless you take the time to look at the entire picture.

Sometimes miles above and away from the picture itself.

I’ve always thought that that must be how God works sometimes.

The big life plan He has for us.

When I’m sitting in the trenches, it’s hard to imagine it being an entire predetermined labyrinth surrounding me.

This past year has felt like I’m right down in it.

Self sabotaging.

Healing myself and yet not treating my body so kindly at the same time.

It’s been a year of learning, heart break, confusion, pessimism, opportunity, drinking, loss of faith, loss of confidence, loss of will and yet there were some absolutely stunning moments wrapped up in there as well.

This past week, I moved into a new apartment.

I’ll be living all by myself for the first time in my entire life.

I’m not even sure I like myself all that much.

How am I supposed to hang out with my self all the time?

My soul sister is moving away after two years of spending every minute with each other. We were roommates, bandmates, best friends, cat co-parents, platonic life partners, etc.

And I really don’t think any of that will change,

But won’t it? 

After having someone there all the time to sit with me on the front porch while I cried my eyes out over some idiot to sitting on a stairwell in my apartment complex by myself is not the smoothest transition.

Looking back over the past two years with my best friend, we were truly given to each other as a extremely generous gift from God, I think. He knew what bull shit was coming up in our lives and He really did us a solid but sewing us together for so long uninterrupted. Also the fact that we spent 5 months in a tiny cruise ship cabin and never wanted to murder each other ??? and then still wanted to live together in a tiny house immediately afterwards ???? absolutely unheard of and it’s a God thing don’t @ me on this.

As the earth shifts into a post-pandemic world (God willing) I expect a lot of change for everybody really.

This week just feels like the end of an era for me personally.

I’m getting old.

And not very gracefully might I add. 

I don’t move through change well.

I actually avoid it for as long as I possibly can.

I’m practically tossed off the cliff of change.

I’m always the last to board the plane.

I’m always the girl who cries when the party’s over.

This innate sense of knowing when the end is has always been inside me.

Have you ever hugged someone or seen something extraordinary or heard something that almost gave you a feeling of nostalgia even if you hear it all the time?

Then you might have this sense too.

I know when I’ll never see someone again

Or re-live an old routine

Or walk down familiar halls for the last time.

And I grieve it in the moment instead of fully appreciating it.

Because of this bitter-sweet sense of mine, I grieve while I’m still living it.

When I had a goodbye party a few days before I left for the cruise ship a couple years ago,

I just sobbed for 6 hours during my party.

I was a complete mess.

Everybody thought it was because I was leaving and I was going to miss my friends, which was true,

But I was truly grieving the end of that era.

I knew I was going to lose some of those people by the time I came back.

I knew I was never going to step foot in that old house of mine again.

I knew it was the end of that chapter.

I didn’t know why or how it would all happen 

But I just knew.

And then when I was one the cruise ship, the crew members used to refer to me as “the crying girl” because I was crying in crew bar ALL the time.

Whenever one of my friend’s cruise contract ended and they were about to head back home, I’d cry my eyes out the night before.

Because I knew I’d never see them like that ever again.

In the same space living day to day, side by side with me and our clan.

Some of them I probably won’t ever see again in this life time.

And it’s devastating.

I’m not sure how to embrace change.

How to calm down this cruel sixth sense of mine.

Learn to enjoy the moments as they’re passing rather than grieve them before they’ve even left me.

I suppose all it truly takes is time and distance to see why everything happens the way it does.

The Artist’s choices are always intentional with every stroke of the brush,

sometimes it looks like a mistake or a random assortment of colors and shapes

but all you have to do is take a few steps back

or look down at the earth from a few thousand miles up in the clouds

and it all seems to make a little bit more sense,

Right?

-Becca Tremmel

I’ve spent the better part of my life pulling people into my circle.

 

Because once I’ve decided that I love you and I need you to keep breathing, that’s truly it for me.

 

I have to do everything in my power to keep them from walking away from me or our friendship or our relationship.

 

I’ve always heard that it’s natural for friendships to wilt away and for people to keep moving down their own paths without each other.

 

“Some people are there for a reason, some people are there for a season.”

 

It’s that old cliché, right?

 

Wrong.

 

At least, that’s what I always thought.


It’s not hard to keep up with a friendship, right?

 

I spend the extra hours of my days calling, texting, writing and thinking about the people I love.

 

If I haven’t talked to a childhood friend for a few months, I’ll always call them out of the blue and ask how life is going.

 

One of my childhood friends told me once, “Bec, we were so close when we were young but as we grew older I was fully prepared for that friendship to wilt away but you… you just wouldn’t let it.”

 

No, I never let friendships “fade” for no reason whatsoever. 

 

It always baffled me when people just say “I don’t know… we just don’t talk anymore.”

 

Why?

 

Why would you let that person you loved so much at one point just fade out of your life?

 

It was an insanely foreign concept to me up until this past year.


For me, there always has to be meaning in everything.

 

I spend years trying to find lessons in the trauma and experiences I’ve endured because if I don’t find the meaning or the “lesson,” how am I supposed to move on?

 

Was I just not good enough?

 

Did I not call them enough?

 

Was I not there when they needed me?

 

I ache over the absence of someone for years.

 

Until it finally clicks in my mind 

 

“Oh… that’s why that happened.”

 

 But it gets exhausting, you know?

 

 Constantly throwing myself at people just desperate to keep them around.

 

 If I never called them again, would they call me?

 

 If I stopped sending them random memes one day, would they notice?

 

Maybe.

 

Maybe not.

 

I never wanted to find out.

 

So I call.

 

I text.

 

I send gifts.

 

If there was a fight, I always apologize first.

 

Even if I wasn’t the one in the wrong.


But over the past year, I’ve learned a very important and brutal lesson,

 

I can’t make someone love me.

 

I can’t force someone to be my friend.

 

I can’t insert meaning into a situation when maybe, there’s no rhyme or reason.

 

If something’s not meant to be, then I can’t change that.

 

No matter how many times I call,

 

No matter how many times I pour my heart out in a letter,

 

No matter how many lessons I feel I missed out on.

 

 I can’t make someone feel what they don’t.


It’s been a lonely season in life for me.

 

Because I’ve lost quite a few people over the last year.

 

And I’ve been attempting to force puzzle pieces together that just clearly don’t fit.

 

But through it all, I have learned a few things (still searching for lessons),

 

There are people out there who do truly love me just as much as I love them.

 

And people who do choose to be in my life just as much as I choose to be in theirs.

 

But the only person I need validation from is myself.

 

The only person who can fulfill all my needs and dim down my insecurities is myself.


People come and go.

 

Friendships end.

 

Love fades when it’s not meant to be.

 

But that doesn’t mean that I’m unloveable.

 

That doesn’t mean there’s something fundamentally wrong with me.

 

It’s just the way the world seems to work.

 

I’ll continue pouring my heart out sure,

 

And reaching out to everyone I love and have loved,

 

And I’ll even continue rebuilding my half of any burned bridge,

 

But I’ll do it while being kind to myself.

 

I’ve been giving every ounce of my unconditional love to everyone I possibly can,

 

And I’ll continue to do so.

 

But now I’ll save just a little for myself as well.

Becca Tremmel

 

facebook – Becca Tremmel

instagram – @littlelionbecca

twitter – @littlelionbecca

“How did I get here?”

The thought I’ve had while sitting on this porch several times.

Like a recurring nightmare.

Why is he leaving?

Why am I not worthy of love?

And not just any love.

The love.

Why can’t I figure this whole relationship crap out?

I’ve watched someone tear out of my driveway like a getaway driver while I sat on this porch.

I’ve poured my heart out to someone and confessed that my feelings for the past three years were indeed not platonic on this porch.

I’ve shared nonjudgmental cigarettes with someone who just needed a friend to share a horrible story with on this porch.

I’ve told people I’ve loved them on this porch.

I’ve been told I’m not the one for them on this porch.

I’ve cried my eyes out on this porch.

I’ve prayed on this porch.

I’m writing this depressing blog on this porch.

The stories I’ve shared over the years have mostly been of my triumphs and turbulences with love.

Finding it.

Falling in and out of it.

Failing at it.

Deciding to walk away from it.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s a crutch for me.

That I’m just way too terrified of being alone.

Having nothing to come home to besides my cat and a mattress on the floor.

And I do believe that the ability to survive and even thrive without someone to fall back on is a skill we all need to nurture and develop.

But at the same time, my worst fear is walking through this life and leaving it all by myself.

I suppose that’s why I get up off the porch at some point and try again.

But trying again is really exhausting and defeating.

To think about finding another person.

Who you happen to meet somewhere in this broken world.

Then clicking.

And you watch for red flags but ultimately abandon your instincts and fall in love anyway because it’s inevitable at some point.

But the red flags multiply throughout the days, months, years

And you turn your cheek every time.

Until they surround you.

And then that horrible thought creeps into your mind

“Maybe they’re not the one.”

Then denial.

Denial.

Denial.

Denial.

And they hold you while you cry on that floor ridden mattress.

And it’s happening again.

You’ve failed again.

You’re sitting on your front porch while they pull out of your driveway and don’t look back

Again.

But at some point,

We all have to take a deep breath.

Stand up.

Walk inside.

Leave the front porch.

And wait impatiently till that stroke of luck hits you.

And you’re pouring your heart out to someone else on that same front porch.

Because it only has to work once.

You won’t have to sit helplessly and watch them pull out of your driveway.

You won’t have to watch them leave.

Because that person will sit next to you through all of the other triumphs and turbulences in life.

On that very same front porch.

 

 

The biggest turn off in the whole world is when someone talks poorly about their ex or, worse, multiple exes.

There’s NO way that one person can date like 5 certifiably “crazy” people.

You know it’s a red flag when someone’s like “Oh I’ve only dated crazy people.”

K,

But who’s the common denominator in all five of those relationships?

Hm.

So before you go off calling your ex “crazy,” here are 31 questions you should ask yourself beforehand,

1. Did you re-download tinder before the breakup talk even happened?

2. Did you breakup with her out of the blue?

3. Did you use any of the following reasons: “I don’t deserve you“, “I love you too much to be with you right now“, “I need a few months to work on myself“,”The timing is just off“, etc.

4. Did you ask our her roommate?

5. Her neighbor?

6. Her best friend?

7. Her mom?

8. Did you ever call her “clingy” for just trying to get in touch with you?

9. Do you still call her?

10. Do you still call her to talk about your relationship?

11. Do you still call her to talk about your relationship and about getting back together?

12. Do all of these conversations happen after 1am when you’ve just left another girl’s house?

13. Did you ever cheat on her?

14. Did you ever cheat on her and then write a blog about how she was de-humanizing you but failed to mention that you cheated on her?

15. Have you ever considered the fact that maybe, possibly, in a strange twist of events, you might just be a d-bag?

16. Do you ignore her existence when you see her just to make her feel like she means nothing to you?

17. Do you spread rumors about her being crazy and that she probably shouldn’t date anyone ever?

18. Do you look over her social media profiles with your friends and make fun of the way she looks, dresses, and portrays herself?

19. Did you post a bunch of pictures of you with other girls .5 seconds after breaking up with her?

20. Did she actually end the relationship and your pride is just bruised so you claim she’s crazy?

21. Whenever you were around her family/friends, did you spend the whole time on your phone?

22. Did you ever steal her phone and look through her texts?

23. Did you ever insult her religion because you don’t necessarily share similar beliefs?

24. Did you ever make her feel bad for not wanting to have sex?

25. Do you see her at parties and claim that she’s stalking you instead of considering the fact that you share the same friend group?

26. When she asks if you can talk, do you claim she’s obsessive when actually she might just need closure or give your crap back?

27. When she writes a blog about how she’s moved on and in a better place, do you claim she’s still hung up on you and just trying to air out dirty laundry on the internet?

28. Do you have shirtless pics on tinder? (Not about your relationship, but let’s me know if you’re a tool or not)

29. Is she an actual diagnosed sociopath?

30. Is she REALLy crazy?

31. Or are you just a dipwad?

If you answered “yes” to any of these questions, I don’t assume your ex is “crazy” but that you’re just a dipwad.

We have to stop talking poorly about our past loves.

We have to stop daydreaming of ways to make our exes jealous and cause them pain.

Everyone does it post-breakup.

I’ve done it, and I’m sure my exes would agree. (*cough*)

It’s not healthy.

Unless they actually ruined your life that like crazy new Netflix show. (It’s basically Gossip Girl to the nth power)

So cut it out. Just be civil.

You invested time and love into this person and now you’re going to drag their name through the mud for what?

Prove your innocence?

That you never made any mistakes in the relationship?

A breakup takes two people.

At least most of the time.

So no, she’s not crazy.

You’re just being a dickwad. (ooo she actually said it !!!)

 

Facebook – Becca Tremmel

Instagram – @littlelionbecca

Twitter – @littlelionbecca

(p.s. can apply to anyone, I just used the pronoun “she” because that’s what I’ve personally experienced)

I’ve heard that toxic relationships are pretty easy to spot.

I’ve even spent time attempting to pull others out of toxic relationships before.

I considered myself somewhat of an ~expert~

Because I’ve had my fair share of gorgeous flowers tempting me, only to reveal themselves as dandelions later on.

I swore that I would never let it happen to me ever again.

But you strolled into my life with confidence and humor.

You changed everything.

I’ve fallen in love before, sure.

But it’s never cut me so deeply and fooled me so brilliantly that it left me feeling like an object.

Like I was nothing except a loser at the end of long, exhausting, impossible game.


I still remember when I realized that we were soulmates.

We spent that summer completely enamored with each other.

Sneaking into private pools.

Exploring every part of this earth we could just for the danger and the stories we’d have by the end of the expedition.

I watched you, wide eyed.

Still holding on to some sort of innocence.

I’m not sure I can even remember what innocence feels like anymore.

My obsession bloomed that summer, years ago.

And you recognized that you had me.

All of me.

As long as I loved you more than I loved myself,

You owned me.


I spent the next few years becoming gradually, painfully numb while you flitted around from one girl to the next, back to the first girl, on to another, etc.

And I sat in your room.

Watched you fall apart repeatedly while hating every inch of your life.

And I gave you pieces of happiness.

My happiness.

Every single day, I gave you another piece of my optimism,

My innocence

My love

My life.

I couldn’t bear to watch you deteriorate because others had drained you of all those things.

I gave you every good piece of me I had.

Until I looked at myself in the mirror one day

And I didn’t recognize myself.

There was nothing good left about me.

Just a shell of a human being who became drained and manipulative.

I saw you.


I began to distance myself from this overwhelming love that I had developed for you.

I attempted to fall in love a time or two.

And even succeeded once.

But as soon as you saw me rebuilding my life,

You came crashing in like a wild animal.

Burning down all the progress I had made.

And no one was willing to stay with someone whose heart was already spoken for.

I get it.

But even then, I couldn’t stay away from you.

My limit had not yet been reached.

Everyone sat me down.

Friends,

Family,

Even strangers.

And begged me to let go and to just finally move on.

I refused.

Because what kind of person would give up on love?

I am not someone who just walks away from a relationship because of some particularly heavy baggage.

You were not a lost cause.

I told myself that repeatedly until one day when it all finally clicked.

Love does not mean that you are that person’s savior.

It doesn’t mean that you need to be that person’s only reason to live.

That kind of pressure is unfathomable.

And it ends of destroying both people.

I realized that this love that I had developed and nurtured was not going to just fade over time.

It was a dangerous, terrifying love that needed to be buried alive.

So that’s exactly what I did.

I left.

Refused to look back.

Refused to give in to every impulse I had to protect you.

I see it all so much clearer now that I’ve walked farther and farther out of the smoke.

You can’t save someone else; they can only save themselves.

They can’t change for you.

It may be romantic and cinematic, but life just doesn’t work like that.

People can only change if they want to.

And you just have to keep moving forward.

Keep walking until you see clearer skies and recognize yourself in the mirror again.

I may have loved you,

But now I have to love myself just a little bit more.

 

Facebook – Becca Tremmel

Instagram – @littlelionbecca

Twitter – @littlelionbecca

Okay the title may be a little aggressive

But it’s meant to come across as urgent.

Because you need to just freaking say it.

Immediately.

Like right now.

Do you not know what I’m talking about?

That thing you’ve been dying to say for the past month, year, decade, entire life?

Those words that have been slowly rotting inside of you desperately trying to claw their way out of your mouth and into the world?

Still not catching on?

Okay, well let me tell you some stories that will clear things up.


My sophomore year of college,

I went a little…

well…

Crazy.

I was struggling with some pretty violent mental illnesses that devoured my ability to empathize with other human beings.

I had an immense sense of pride.

Several people chose to walk out of my life around that time because they weren’t able to handle my negativity or aggression.

I was impacting them in extremely hurtful ways.

I was toxic.

But I couldn’t admit it to myself.

ME?!

TOXIC?!

No way,

I was perfect.

I had never done anything wrong or purposely hurt someone in my entire life.

Everything was about me and my well-being

No one else’s.

Looking back on it now, I realize that I wasn’t trying to hurt these people that I loved so dearly.

I just wasn’t in the state of mind to admit that I was wrong or unhealthy.

I demanded support without giving any back to them in return and it was unbelievably frustrating.

My stubborn little head could not wrap itself around the fact that I could be

Potentially

Maybe just a little bit

Wrong?

In turn, the consequences were absolutely disastrous.

My loved ones were dropping out of my life like flies

And I couldn’t stop it.

Or wouldn’t, I should say.

Because now thinking the entire situation through up, down and sideways,

I could’ve stopped it.

By admitting I was wrong.

And I could’ve actively tried to mend these disintegrating bridges by swallowing my misplaced pride and telling these people just how much I loved them and that their relationships meant way more to me than a stupid, popular blog or my newfound proud reputation.

It’s a lot easier said than done, though.

I’ve been given the very fortunate gift of new relationships and friendships that completely changed my way of thinking.

When the time came and fights occurred with these loved ones,

They always reached out

Called me at 4am,

Wrote me a letter,

Knocked on my door at 3am,

Just to say sorry and tell me that they loved me.

It shattered my beliefs.

Because I appreciated it so much when they showed me how much they cared and that they were willing to bury the hatchet while I was running around with said hatchet and actively destroying my relationships.

It all taught me something very, very important.

Sometimes it’s okay to say “I’m sorry” first.

It’s okay to say “I love you and you mean the absolute world to me” first.

It doesn’t mean you’re weak or admitting defeat.

It means you’re choosing love over pride.

And trust me, love will make you MUCH happier than pride.

I chose pride over love my sophomore year and it ate at me slowly and relentlessly for years.

I thought about it constantly.

I’ve had nightmares about that time in my life that leave me sobbing in my bed in the middle of the night.

And sitting in my bed in a pathetic little heap of miserable-ness didn’t make me feel very proud

Or loved.

I made the wrong choice.

Pride is never greater than or equal to love.

So now I’m here to tell you,

You don’t have to make the same mistake I did.

If you’re in a fight with somebody you care about immensely but neither of you will just lay down your weapons for 2 minutes to apologize and hug it out,

Be the first to just freaking say it.

If you’ve spent the past three years completely in love with someone who doesn’t know how you feel because you’re terrified it could end your friendship and ruin everything,

Just freaking say it.

Because who knows what will happen and even if the feelings aren’t reciprocated, at least they know there’s someone in the world without a selfish bone in their body who loves them unconditionally. It is an absolute honor to be loved by you.

If you’re afraid to speak out for something you believe in because you’re afraid of being torn down by the masses and it’s caused you to sit in uncomfortable and unbearable silence,

Just freaking say it.

A mob with pitchforks and torches will most likely not show up at your house.

(If they do though, pls don’t hold me responsible. I’m just an emotional blogger who doesn’t know anything)


It’s never too late to make amends.

It’s never too late to tell someone you love them.

And it’s never to late to admit that you’re wrong and apologize.

Even if you’re not wrong, apologize.

Because is your pride really worth losing one of your favorite people over?

The answer is no, by the way.

So just freaking do it (as Nike says).

Just freaking say it.

 

 

facebook – Becca Tremmel

instagram – @littlelionbecca

twitter – @littlelionbecca

 

It’s raining harder than it has in years.

The city is asleep as it prepares for another hectic Monday morning.

The pavement glows underneath her as she runs from her car to his doorstep.

She’s breathless

A ball of anxiety

But pounds fearlessly on his door anyway.

Minutes pass as she stares at the ground and bites her lip.

Finally, he pulls open the door.

Shocked.

They haven’t spoken in several months.

But months of silence couldn’t suffocate the four years she’s spent completely in love with him.

Should’ve known better.

She thinks to herself in hindsight.

They stand in complete silence.

Until finally,

“What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know.”

Silence.

Her eyes slowly lift to meet his.

Those perfect, innocent green eyes that have kept her mesmerized for years.

This is it.

They’ve never kissed, surprisingly.

She thought about kissing him every day for four years.

This is it.

This is it.

This is it.

Her mind trips over itself thinking and re-thinking over every possible reaction he could have.

This is it.

She loses eye contact with him when she closes her eyes and inhales the last breath she will ever breathe not having kissed him.
This is it.

All she needs is ten seconds of blinding courage

This is it.

Her legs carry her to him with wavering confidence

This is it.

And she places her hands on either side of his puzzled face

This is it.

And pulls her lips to his

This is it.

And the past four years of frustration,

Anger,

Depression,

Guilt,

And heartbreak

Slowly melt away

Drop by drop

With this one kiss.

The kiss we’ve all been waiting for.

And everything that has bruised her,

Stung her,

Left her broken on the bathroom floor,

Or helpless on her knees

Suddenly all made sense.

Because all of those moments

Brought her to this moment

With him.

And she decides that she would live through those painful moments a thousand times over

As long as they always ended right here

Right now

Her lips on his.

His heart against hers.

I’m not sure who the eff “he” is.

He could be your ex,

He could be some guy you’re crushing on hardcore but don’t want to overwhelm with your feral emotions,

He could be your boyfriend who we’re currently mad at because he did that annoying thing again,

Or your mailman.

For whatever reason,

You don’t want to call him.

That’s fine. I’m sure there’s a good reason.

I got you, girl.

Whoever he is, here are 55 things to do instead of calling him.


1. Go on a hike. The fresh air will do ya good.

2. Call an old friend who you haven’t talked to in over two years.

3. Paint your nails a crazy color

4. Take a nap

5. Drive to a neighboring state and spend the day exploring

6. Read a self help book

7. Write your own self help book

8. Adopt a pet and then cuddle with it

9. Grab some margaritas with your bestie

10. Learn how to play the harmonica

11. Watch every Lord of the Rings movie plus the bonus features (that’ll kill about 15 hours)

12. Drive around your town blasting the full “1989” album plus those bangin’ bonus songs

13. Plan a birthday party for a friend. I don’t care if it’s six months in advance or if you only know her though math class.

14. Throw caution to the wind and re-download Tinder

15. Hate yourself after receiving your first “send nudes” message and then re-delete Tinder

16. Or send nudes. You do you.

17. I lied. Don’t send nudes.

18. Go to a shooting range and take some shooting lessons

19. Write a strongly worded letter to congress about a current issue/law that pisses you tf off.

20. Watch clips from the Teletubbies and re-discover how effing creepy those things are

Teletubbies-371606

Good. Bye.

21. Create a workout schedule that’ll give you a bangin’ bod

22. Pick up some extra shifts at work

23. Or apply for a job you helpless, unemployed potato

24. Look up the sound frogs make when they’re afraid and laugh (Watch this)

25. Look up the sound zebras make and be as confused as I am (BUT WHY DO THEY DO THIS)

26. Get a haircut.

27. Delete random pics on your phone that are just taking up space (maybe delete some pics of him while you’re at it)

28. Learn how to cook

29. Cook something

30. Clean your apartment

31. But really, clean your apartment… It’s getting bad.

32. Get distracted while cleaning and look through the crap people wrote in your high school yearbooks

33. Stalk people from high school on Facebook.

34. Write a letter to him

35. Then set that shit on fire

36. Make a pinterest board with just pictures of baby animals

37. Take the Myers Briggs test. You’ll be entertained for at least two hours, I swear.

38. Create a blog !!!!!!

39. Cry yourself to sleep because now you’re just an emotional, oversharing blogger just like me

40. Go to a coffee shop

41. Join farmersonly.com just because

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#YouDontHaveToBeLonelyAtFarmersOnlyDotCom

42. Buy succulents and up your #aesthetic game

43. Start learning French. Bon Chance!

44. Read the bible (we all need to at some point)

45. Plan a weekend vacation

46. Figure out what type of tattoo you’d get if you were ever brave enough to get one

47. Screw it, get a tattoo

48. Maybe download Bumble instead of Tinder. I only want what’s best for you <3

49. Find your old Gameboy Advance and play your favorite game

41X3B28XR7L

Gotta catch ’em all ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

50. Start a new hobby

51. Make a list of the top 10 places you’d love to visit

52. Decide what your favorite song of all time is

53. Try eating a really healthy dinner #kale

54. Give up and order pizza (maybe you’ll find love with the delivery guy)

55. And if all else fails and you’re about 3 seconds from calling him, just toss your phone off a bridge. That’ll DEF keep you from calling him.


 

Good luck, girl. I believe in you.

Love,

Becca Tremmel

 

Facebook – Becca Tremmel

Instagram – @littlelionbecca

Twitter – @littlelionbecca

I’ve never been one to speak openly about my Christian faith.

I’ve always been terrified of judgment and ridicule.

I’m scared of people reading what I have to say only to point out my past sins while exclaiming, “Yeah, you must be a VERY dedicated Christian.”

The truth is,

I am flawed.

I have a terrible potty mouth.

I’ve gossiped about people who I don’t know personally.

I’ve gossiped about people who I know extremely well.

I’ve even keyed someone’s car before.

I am completely flawed and I surely don’t consider myself “role model” material.

But I do know a little bit about suffering and how it’s ultimately brought me closer to God.


These past six months have kicked my ass.

(Excuse the language. We went over this. Flawed)

I was positive that I wasn’t going to graduate college due to my every present procrastination and lack of motivation all last semester,

I lost my sweet kitten days after my graduation,

I almost lost my own life in December due to a serious infection that left me in a hospital bed and incapable of breathing on my own for weeks,

A very important relationship in my life came to a screeching halt,

Many of my close friends have packed up and left for the summer or for good,

I’ve showed my music to some noteworthy figures in the music business and most of the reviews were very discouraging. One even used the words “bland” and “uninteresting,”

And finally, some of my past mistakes have come back stronger than ever to haunt my present.

Like I said, I’ve been a mess.

But I’m not here to complain.

Because I’m aware that I’ve lived an extremely comfortable life in comparison to many other people in this world.

And I try to thank God every single day for the little blessings He’s put in my path over the past 22 years.

I am unbelievably lucky.

However, I believe it is very easy to lose sight of all you have to be thankful for when you’re sitting in bed at 3am bawling your eyes out over your current suffering.


In the past, I’ve turned to some unhealthy coping mechanisms to deal with my suffering.

My sophomore year of college I abused prescription drugs just to cope with the crippling depression I used to suffer from.

I used to root my self confidence in guys and how they treated me. I found self validation in whoever I was currently dating at the time.

I would try many strategies out before finally turning to God.

Whenever I found myself curled up on the floor crying myself deeper into this endless pit of suffering, I’d call someone.

I’d distract myself.

And I’ve been very blessed to have people in my life who have answered those desperate phone calls.

I did everything I could possibly think of before finally admitting defeat and turning to God for help and wisdom.

And every time I did, He saved me.


In the past six months, I have been given every reason imaginable to turn towards unhealthy coping mechanisms.

But I’ve done my absolute best to straighten my aim and walk on the clear path with God even when I had temptation calling out to me trying to coax me back into the woods.

It sometimes feels impossible.

Suffering is something that every single person in life will have to go through. If you’ve never suffered before and your life has been just butterflies and butterscotch popsicles, just you wait. It’s comin’ for ya.

We will all have hardships and we will all be brought to our knees at some point where we are faced with a decision,

Will we remain on the floor?

Will we turn to a terrible habit that will leave us further in the dark?

Or will we bring our pain to God and ask Him for help and wisdom?

It’s much harder than one would think.

It’s not easy to give up everything and do what God asks you to do in order to fulfill His plan.


And many people have asked me or brought up a question that I’ve thought a lot about recently,

“Why does suffering exist? If God is so good, then why does He allow us to suffer?”

And here is the answer (definitely still underdeveloped and definitely one that will not satisfy everyone) that I’ve come up with,

Although suffering is miserable and even horrifying sometimes, we would all be very weak and close minded individuals if no one had ever been through something worth suffering over.

Suffering is absolutely necessary. It is all a part of the human experience. As human beings, we have free will.

I can gossip and say hurtful things about someone that could leave them crying on their floor.

I don’t believe I’m walking with God when I make that decision.

However, even when we do end up in a pit of suffering I believe God can make something absolutely beautiful out of it.

I have never felt more connected to a human being than when we have bonded through a suffering experience.

There is no greater tool when fostering genuine human connection and love than suffering.

When large-scale tragedies occur and we’re all left hopeless, we do not walk away and leave the suffering to feel unloved or unworthy.

Most people come together and express their love towards people who they may not even know personally.

I think that is so beautiful.

And I know I am young, flawed, and I have the rest of my life to think about the answer to that question, but that’s what I got so far.

So if you’re suffering right now, just know that I love you and I’m rooting for you 100% and God is, too.

 

 

Love,

Becca Tremmel

 

facebook – Becca Tremmel

Instagram – @littlelionbecca

Twitter – @littlelionbecca