Bound, Pt II
Gia Pete
ChatGPT is my therapist away from therapy. It’s a space to get an objective analysis of a situation and see if I’m tripping. It’s good I have this now because I used to call my mom for that. She can never be replaced, obviously, but it’s nice to again have something that gives an honest, neutral perspective.
And just like when my mom told me I wasn’t tripping, if Gia Pete reasonably validates how I feel, it’s over for you, bookie. I’m standing on what I said.
I remember this specific time in college when I was hosting a shindig, and my “friend” invited other people to what was supposed to be a fairly intimate gathering—without telling me until they were already on their way. What made it worse was when I expressed discomfort, my “friend” completely dismissed me, saying I had met them before.
“Met them” meaning: I had seen them once across a large room. “Seen” meaning: I actually hadn’t seen them at all because I wasn’t wearing my glasses that day—I used to skip them sometimes when I wanted to be cute. Now? My glasses are a part of me. A calling card, even.
I have a tendency to undermine my own feelings over time, but the moment my mom told me I wasn’t wrong, any thoughts I had that I was overreacting evaporated from my body. I had my mom behind me, and my gripe was simple: Don’t invite people to my house without giving me the chance to decide if it’s okay.
I’ve realized a big part of questioning whether I’m tripping comes from the fact that I have no in-between. As a kid, I let people walk all over me. So now, if I feel like I’m getting the short end of the stick, I have to stand on that. For old times’ sake.
Young adult Tay let the guests stay and ended up having a great time that night. But clearly, it left a mark because I’m still thinking about her inconsideration 10+ years later.
Honestly, I probably could’ve let the extra guests slide without getting too upset or even remembering this moment so much later—if she had acknowledged how I felt and tried to make it right. But she didn’t. Instead, she dismissed me and my feelings, and that’s what made this moment stick.
And at the end of the day, did it even matter how I felt? Because what did I do about it? Nothing then—but it certainly shaped how I react to disrespect and inconsideration today.
If that same thing happened today, grown me probably would’ve canceled everything. Not only can they not come, but now you gotta go too. Cause you disrespectful. Case closed and goodnight.
And if you hit me with, “they’re already on their way”—good. Figure out what y’all are about to get into on the other side of my door.
Ironically, I ended up crossing paths with that same group years later in Miami, and now I’m closer with them than I ever was with that “friend.” I don’t even speak to her anymore. And it makes me wonder—how much longer did my lack of boundaries keep that friendship going when it should’ve ended?
I told y’all—if you let somebody shenan once, they gon’ shenanigan! Standing on bidness cuts out a lot of wasted time.
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Free Coffee
I was thinking about how I should take advantage of my apartment’s amenities—especially the free coffee. But then I told myself I needed a cute travel mug to take to work. Except…I already have one. It’s just not cute lol. So, obviously, I needed to buy another.
That got me thinking about my grandparents and how they saved a few coins by not caring about aesthetics. As long as something worked—even if it was falling apart—it wasn’t worth replacing. I’m sure I’d save a lot of money adopting that same mindset, but honestly? I have no desire to live in a world that isn’t pretty.
I’ve been wanting to participate in dopamine decor—decor that sparks joy just by looking at it. But as someone who loves color and values a calming home environment, a lot of the things I’d consider dopamine decor don’t exactly fit the aesthetic of The Oasis. So, I’ve compromised by confining my colorful pieces to one small slice of my apartment, lovingly dubbed “the funky corner.”
In the funky corner, you’ll find my most colorful knick-knacks from my travels, a lava lamp, and my desk covered in bright decor to spark creativity—including an iridescent lamp that shoots a rainbow of light onto the ceilings and walls. There’s a funky ‘A Few Daily Affirmations to Find Inner Peace’ print to cover the ugly fuse box, and my I Am Kenough Barbie pillow sitting in my desk chair.
Nothing in this area fits with the earth tones of my living room, the white spa-like feel of my bathroom, or the mature black-and-white aesthetic of my bedroom. It’s chaotic vs. the rest of the oasis but it sparks happiness (on my Marie Kondo shit) and I love it.
Every time I step into HomeGoods, I fight the urge to even glance at the pancake stack end table. That does not give Oasis. I don’t trust myself to look at it, because if I do, there’s a chance I’ll become so enamored that I’ll buy it with nowhere to put it.
Omg, they had a Color Pop collection, and I wanted all of it—but all that won’t fit into the funky corner. Unless I stack everything on top of each other, which completely goes against my minimalist view on clutter. It’s the funky corner, not the junk corner.
I’ve managed to sneak a little of it into my kitchen—a butter dish that’s actually shaped like butter and my fried egg spoon rest. But it’s pretty tame.
In reality, I think I’m a maximalist at heart, but the way my neurodivergence works, my environment has to match—a cohesive, natural color palette keeps me relaxed. I guess that’s just it: the dopamine decor energizes me, but I need neutral tones for peace.
My goal is to have a funky room, where I can fill every inch with dopamine decor to my heart’s desire. That gummy bear lamp? It’s coming home with me. And I’m definitely ordering that pink “The World Is Yours” neon sign I keep seeing all over Etsy.
One exception to my neutral palette? Mugs and travel cups. I said all that say.. I’m on World Market website right now looking for a colorful travel mug so I can get my free coffee.
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Apocalypse Wednesday
Speaking of pretty things, I was talking to my aunt about what we’d do in an apocalypse. She said she’d fight to survive, and I immediately knew we were on different wavelengths. I simply have no interest in living in a world devoid of joy. No cheese tastings, no happy hour oysters, no mindless strolls through an antique shop? No museums, no botanical gardens? Bffr.
I know my mom once told me if I Molly, Percocet, she’d Molly-whop my ass, but if the world is ending, that might just be the time I dabble in some highly dangerous drugs and make my exit. Because what’s the alternative? Struggling, starving, and fighting zombies just to wake up and do it again tomorrow? Let’s be real—I barely have the energy for life with joy sprinkled in. Take that away, I am no longer interested in participating.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized… the apocalypse isn’t that different from everyday life. It’s the boring, capitalist version. The constant cycle of work, sleep, and doing it all over again? The only thing that makes the grind worth it is the little joys in between, but long term? I need big joy. Constant joy. A life that actually excites me.
Out of curiosity, I asked Gia Pete what a day in the life as my future self would look like. What’s four plus four? Cause they ate. Read this excerpt:
“Midday, I take a walk, maybe somewhere scenic. If I’m in Thailand, it’s near the beach; if I’m elsewhere, it’s somewhere vibrant and peaceful. I grab a meal—something fresh and flavorful, maybe with a view. I don’t rush. My life moves at a pace I’ve chosen.
The afternoon is for exploring—trying a new café, checking out an oyster bar, or planning my next trip. I’m always on the lookout for a new pin to add to my collection. I have the freedom to move, to experience, to enjoy life without feeling tied down.
Evening is slow and luxurious. Maybe a spa visit, maybe just a cozy night in. I light a candle, do my skincare, and reflect on the day. I feel fulfilled. I feel free.
Tomorrow? Another adventure, but no rush. Life is good”
Iktr. The only problem: I’m still trying to figure out how to make that life happen.
—
A Beautiful Mind
I’ve manifested some of my favorite players onto my favorite team—so why can’t I manifest my favorite girl (me) into my ideal life?” I mean, I wanted Porzingis and J-Rue on the team, and now look at us.
Every time I start feeling sad about the state of the world, I gently guide my thoughts back to one simple truth: everything will be okay. Manifestation, delusion—call it what you want. I am delulu until it’s true true.
And listen—this method works. A while ago, I looked at international plane tickets and they were so expensive, it felt impossible to get to Europe. But then I let the delusion take over. I really wanted to go to Amsterdam. I didn’t know how, but I knew I would... until I did.
It’s really the only thing I have left lol. I’ve decided to live in my bubble and not cause unnecessary anxiety by inundating myself with negative information and situations I can’t control. Why disturb my peace when I can simply live in my delusion?
