Swipe Left On Perfection

I’m back from the mental reset I’ve taken. If you’re reading this, you are stepping into a living chronicle of personal growth, unwavering integrity, and the continuous pursuit of an authentic life.

This blog, and the book I am developing behind the scenes to help others through personal narrative, is about stripping away the superficial and taking ownership of my story.

Growth isn’t always about pushing harder or moving faster; sometimes, the most profound growth happens when everything comes to a full stop. The last few months have been a season of stepping back, reassessing, and fundamentally changing how I navigate my world.

Taking a Breath: Mental Health Over Reps

At my core, I am a builder and a coach. I’ve always focused on designing targeted, effective workout and mobility programs, prioritizing high-protein nutrition, and understanding the mechanics of the body. But for the last two months, I have completely stepped away from exercise other than the workouts I’ve done with clients. While physical strength will always be a part of my foundation, I realized I needed to channel all that energy into my mental health.

I am doing the deep, necessary work of accepting my CPTSD and learning how to maneuver it alongside a new understanding of my autism. Recognizing these parts of myself has been eye-opening. As a visual learner, I have had to really look at how I process the world, giving myself the grace to understand why protecting my peace is non-negotiable.

The Reality of Outgrowing People (And Keeping the Good Ones)

Part of this journey has meant looking hard at the people in my life and making difficult choices for my own safety and sanity. I recently had to walk away from a close friendship that simply was no longer safe for me. It is a harsh but necessary realization: you can do the work to become regulated, but if the other person admits to dysregulation and doesn’t know how to handle it, the dynamic becomes unhealthy. You cannot shrink yourself to fit into spaces you have outgrown.

The same boundary-setting applies to family. I am spending significantly less time with my parents in the phone (as they don’t live close). I had to recognize the reality of the continued and current emotional abuse in the form of emotional immaturity and accept that keeping them close causes a level of dysfunction and dysregulation that disrupts my peace. And I love myself, don’t get me wrong, BUT I don’t like myself when I’m dysregulated. I don’t want anyone near me when I am. And being around someone who is, is more likely to cause mine to spike too. But I’ve gotten better at coregulation through practice with other friends. Co workers. People online.

But clearing out the harm leaves room for the good. I am deeply valuing the genuinely safe, supportive, fundamentally good, grounding presence. The quiet, everyday emotional support provided by my two cats.

Looking in the Mirror: Owning My Patterns and Facing the Truth

As I examine the dynamics I have outgrown, radical accountability means I also have to look at myself. Looking back at my recent relationships, a clear pattern has emerged: I am recognizing my own fearful avoidant tendencies. It is not just about how others act; it is about acknowledging my own role, my own avoidance, and my responses when things get difficult.

This brings me to my last Ex. The relationship was incredibly short, but I was so deeply sure of him. Not off the bat but after an event we had gone to together. I felt entirely calm investing into that relationship; I felt like we were the same person, and I truly believed he was the one then. It is unfortunate that it ended the way it did, because it would have been beautiful to make it work.

Looking back, there was a lot of mutual damage, much of it stemming from unspoken expectations. Early on, we discussed our dynamic: he saw himself as a provider, and I naturally stepped into the role of a nurturer. I wanted to be affectionate and nurture his emotions, but he struggled to discuss his feelings openly with me.

On the provider side, he told me he had a certain budget for the month for us. When we would go shopping and he bought things for me, I was absolutely thrilled—I had never had someone want to do that for me before. In his mind, I was going overboard. In my mind, I was just incredibly excited, and I was learning in real-time how to hear a “no” from someone I cared about. If he had simply told me “no,” I still would have loved and cared for him just the same.

Furthermore, the things I asked for were activities for us to do together. But he would participate once and never initiate again. I felt like I had to plan everything, and he was just there to fund it. I didn’t want someone to just pay for things; I wanted a true partner.
One of the hardest things to navigate was his people-pleasing, which often manifested as saying whatever he thought I wanted to hear just to get an answer. It led to communication that felt like catching him in lies—like claiming his therapist just agreed to treat him as autistic without an assessment, or saying his family staged an intervention over me using him, while simultaneously claiming he never told them about me. Added to that was the sting of catching him looking at other girls’ Instagram accounts while we were together.

This breakdown in communication peaked at the very end over a misunderstanding about boundaries and money. We had previously agreed on an amount he would contribute to my upcoming rent. Shortly after, we went to Marshalls. I wanted to buy a chair so he could sit comfortably and craft with me, and I had the money to buy it myself. At the register, I set my wallet on the counter and stepped away to return the shopping cart, as is my routine. He paid for it, and I honestly just thought he was doing a sweet, generous thing.
The next day, he handed me the rent money, but it was a different, lower amount—he had deducted the cost of the Marshalls trip without discussing it. I panicked and freaked out. It truly wasn’t about the money; it was the fact that established plans had suddenly changed without warning. As an autistic person, sudden disruptions to a plan cause immediate dysregulation. I calmed down and tried to explain that my reaction wasn’t a personal attack on him, but he took it personally anyway.

Beyond the communication, there were deeper misalignments with intimacy and consent. When you are dating someone who has a history of unwanted touch, double-checking for consent should be a baseline, but that consideration was missing. And when I did want intimacy, the energy was mismatched. I wanted a partner, but the affection he offered felt more like it was coming from a brother.

When it finally came down to it, I didn’t want to leave. But he was unclear and back and forth about his feelings for me, and I need someone who is sure. I wanted to take space so we could regulate and remain friends to try and work through it, but instead, he built resentment. And I admit I did too.

I felt the best thing I could do is give him the space he said he wanted so when his birthday happened, I was afraid to reach out. Figured he didn’t want to talk to me so I peacefully make his present. I tried to reach out after. I heard nothing. He had ghosted me after I asked to take space and stay friends.

And I have had to deal with the emotional labor and healing of this alone. also avoidant.

And an avoidant feels later, not right away. I felt it after, hot and cold, in waves. My delayed processing didn’t help there either. But in all honesty, I can say my feelings were real. I didn’t know how to regulate at that point. Neither did he.

Thank god I’ve had a LOT more practice since and I’m happy where I’m at in my progress. it’s a place I’ve never been.

And as I said before, the best apology is changed behavior. Listening to people better. Respecting boundaries.

To be honest, I’m afraid to ask for anything from anyone now though so maybe that’ll take some work. I’m afraid to ask for help. I’m afraid to admit when I am struggling mentally.

Finding Closure in Unexpected Places

Not all relationship transitions have to be painful. I recently saw Lu and his new girlfriend, Rachael, and what I felt was genuine happiness for them. I was free. Being able to experience that joy for someone else allowed a door to close peacefully. It was a moment of true closure, proving that moving on can be a quiet, healing thing.

Reconnecting with My Light

As my internal landscape has changed, so have my external passions. I’ve stepped back from the rave scene. I can never forget the wild logistics of camping at The Gorge for Grizztronics, I admit the love I once had for that scene just isn’t there right now, and I am allowing myself the grace to let that go.

Instead, I am returning to the things that ground me. Re-immersing myself in the music and world of BTS has been a vital source of comfort. Drawing inspiration from Suga’s artistry keeps my creative drive alive.

I have also fiercely embraced crafting again. Stringing together Kandi, working with perler beads, crating clay figures, making jewelry, and getting lost in the details of a coloring book have been amazing; it is my meditation and my safe haven.

An Open, Hopeful Horizon

As for what comes next? I am looking forward with an incredibly open heart. I know I am not ready to date again just yet; I still have feelings for my ex, and I want to fully honor my healing process and let those go before I invite a new romantic relationship into my life.

But my life right now is so full. I finally feel like I’m not missing anything. I don’t need a void filled. This chapter isn’t about rushing to the next milestone; it is about embracing the beauty of the present. I am learning to be gentle with my neurodivergence, to hold firm to my boundaries, and to find deep, resounding joy in my crafts, my music, and my own company. I am opening up to the world, laughing a little easier, and trusting that as long as I stay true to myself, the best and brightest days are still ahead.

Thank you for being here for the real, raw, and wonderfully hopeful journey.

I think I’ve finally graduated.