Wednesday, August 9, 2017

On true love, detachment, and being a good human

Monday was one of the most stressful, emotional, challenging and bittersweet days I've been through so far this year (for reasons I'd prefer to keep relatively private). In a nutshell, I was put into a highly stressful and comprising situation by people I trusted and had to act fast to do the right thing, even though it wasn't the easiest thing.

Details aside, perhaps we can all relate to being in a situation like this. We've all been betrayed. We've all had to act quickly instead of thinking slowly. We've all had to put our selfish needs and desires aside for the sake of doing the absolute best thing for the absolute best creature, whether animal or human. (In my case, it was an animal.) We've all been in situations that have put life, love and humanity into perspective. We've all had the wind knocked out of us in the best and worst ways.

So ever since the incident in question, I have been consciously working hard to be an overall better human being and put some important lessons into practice. I want to share my thoughts here, in hopes that they will help you do the same.

On true love:

True love is selfless and works tirelessly to make the object of your affection or admiration feel as happy and secure as they possibly can. My boyfriend, my mother, and a new and wonderful friend of mine were my rock when I was going through what I went through this week. They all taught me about love. They all jumped to my rescue and soothed my fears. They all made me realize that I was doing the right thing for the object of MY affection at that moment in time. And they all made me want to love bigger and better than I've been doing lately.

If you love something, you must be selfless and steadfast. You must work hard and be better. You must treasure who and what you love with every fiber your being is capable of giving. And when you can do those things without question, THAT is true love.

On detachment:

Attachment is my middle name. My whole life, I have become attached to people, animals, material belongings, ideas, ways of life, and ways of thinking. I don't like change, and I really don't like losing things that once brought me comfort and familiarity. But you know what? That's life. Change is literally constant. It's a train that never stops going. And where there is change, there is some degree of loss if you're as delicate and fragile as I am.

I had to detach myself this week in the name of being selfless and exercising true love. I would've done it anyway, but the only thing even remotely upsetting me about it was that I had to detach. Because detachment is hard. It makes me sad, and sometimes I stay sad for a really long time. But sadness, like everything else, is temporary too.

So let go, detach if you must, and take comfort in the fact that the chips of life and love will always fall exactly where they belong...even if it takes them awhile to get there.  

On being a good human:

I witnessed good humans turn into bad humans this week, and it would be an understatement to say that was a hard and unfortunate thing to watch. Perhaps I've been in denial or ignorance of their true character all along, but I digress.

I really do wanna see the best in people in a world filled with assholes. I feel everything so deeply, and I just don't want to be all the more burdened by the thought of how many people are just plain terrible. But I work in the food business (HA!) and I live in the real world, so I can't always shield myself from rude, careless, selfish and cruel human beings. But what I can do is be a better person myself. I can do the right thing, choose love over hate, and be kind and understanding to the best of my ability.

You can't change other people, but you can change yourself.

You can be better.

<3 Madison  


  1. Gee. This was interesting to read. But I'm wondering what the object of your detachment was and why and also about the bad humans. My mind has already crafted a scenario to fill in the blanks. Thanks for venting. And by the way, thanks for writing your memoir. It was helpful and entertaining.

    1. Thank you Lisa! I know you're curious, but I just didn't want to blatantly call anyone out on the Internet. That would be counterproductive and beside the point. But I hope you can relate to the lessons I shared nonetheless!

      Thanks for reading.