When “Good Intentions” Look Like a True Crime Episode

Hey everyone, it’s Tina. Grab a coffee, a blanket, or maybe a glass of wine (make it a large one), because today we are diving deep into the messy, confusing, and sometimes utterly embarrassing world of modern dating and relationships. Today, we need to talk about the “C” word.

No, not that one. Closure.

I’ll just come right out and say it: I have this terrible, burning, downright relentless bad habit of wanting closure from situations. I want answers. I want the final conversation. I want the neat little bow tied on top of the emotional wreckage so I can file it away in my brain and move on.

But here is the universal joke of the century: the exact people who are supposed to give me that closure are always the ones who run for the hills.

We’ve all been there. You hit a bump in the road, things get weird, and instead of having a mature, adult conversation, they just… vanish. They ignore you. And then comes the ultimate modern-day slap in the face: The Block.

Now, a normal person might see a blocked number and think, “Oh, okay, they need space. I should move on.”

Me? My brain immediately shifts into overdrive. The block doesn’t mean “stop,” it means “find another route.”

• The initial reaction: Confusion. Did my message even go through? Is the cell tower down?

• The secondary reaction: Righteous indignation. How dare they? After everything?

• The final boss reaction: Full-blown cyber sleuthing.

Which leads me directly to finding all their information and figuring out alternative ways to reach out to them for that one magical answer that I am convinced will set me free.

Let’s just address the elephant in the room. Yeah, I get it. They didn’t technically hand me their secondary email address, their LinkedIn profile, or their cousin’s best friend’s Instagram handle.

When I’m in the zone, trying to just get that one final sentence out, I turn into an FBI behavioral analyst. I promise you, my intentions and my heart are completely in the right place! I just want peace. I just want mutual understanding.

But I am also self-aware enough to admit that on paper—and probably to them—it comes off completely unhinged. Like, bat-shit crazy, psycho-thriller movie levels of unhinged. The disconnect between my heart saying, “I just want to understand” and my actions looking like, “I will find you,” is a gap I am desperately trying to bridge.

People are always so quick to say, “Tina, just let it go and move on!” But it is never that simple for me.

Having that closure and the final conversation is incredibly important to me because it is about so much more than just “moving on.” It’s about clearing the air so the chapter can be closed for good. If the book is still open, I can’t help but re-read the pages. I don’t want to keep looking back on the past, obsessing over the issue, or dissecting the situation anymore.

I want that final conversation as an adult so we can both move on.

Here is the slightly twisted logic my brain subscribes to: giving me that closure, having that actual final talk, is the one guaranteed way to make me walk away for the rest of my life. If we talk it out, I’m gone. The book is shut. But blocking me? Ignoring me? To me, that actually leaves the door cracked open. It tells my stubborn heart that you aren’t fully ready to close it properly. Just because you blocked me today doesn’t mean you won’t come back tomorrow, especially when there is still so much unfinished business lingering in the air between us. A block feels like a pause, not a period.

Honestly, if you want me to close the chapter for good—instead of relying on this heart of gold that keeps hoping that one day you will change, that one day you will apologize, and that one day you will start respecting me and trusting me so we can have a stable, normal relationship or friendship or something—then you have to talk to me. If you genuinely want me to stop caring, if you want me to stop seeing the good in you and hoping for the best, then give me that one final conversation.

Give me that closure. Give me that communication so I can finally stop, shut my emotions down completely, and move forward without looking back. Sometimes I swear, having a good heart, seeing the good in others, and wanting more is actually a terrible thing, because I always end up being the one hurt more than anyone else.

More than anything, I want that communication so I can finally stop caring. I want to stop coming off as an unhinged, obsessed, crazy, or psycho person who can’t let go. I am so tired of looking like I am desperately chasing someone who is sprinting in the opposite direction.

At the core of it all, I am not trying to harass anyone; all I want is actual accountability, an apology, and some real answers so that everyone involved can just get on with their lives. Is that really too much to ask? Apparently, yes. Because instead of basic human decency, people just choose to ignore me and my messages, leaving me to spiral into the abyss of unanswered questions.

Before I completely roast myself, I have to defend my fellow closure-addicts for a second. Because wanting answers isn’t entirely a toxic trait. There are two sides to this coin.

Why It’s Actually a Good Thing:

• It means you give a damn: We don’t just treat people like disposable coffee cups. When we invest in someone, we actually care about the outcome.

• It shows a desire for accountability: Wanting to talk things out means you value communication. You want to understand where things went wrong so you can fix them, learn from them, and do better next time.

• You have a big heart: The drive to find closure comes from a place of love and respect for the connection you shared. You want to honor what you had by ending it properly.

Why It’s a Terrible, No-Good, Very Bad Thing:

• You give away all your power: This is the hardest part to admit. By demanding closure from someone else, you are effectively handing them the keys to your peace of mind. If they refuse to talk, you stay trapped.

• It actively crosses boundaries: When someone blocks you, that is a boundary. A harsh one, sure, but a boundary nonetheless. Trying to bypass it makes you look like the villain, even if your heart is pure gold.

• It delays your healing: Every time you draft an email they’ll never read, or check their follower count, you are picking the scab off the wound. You think you’re looking for answers, but really, you’re just keeping the ghost of the relationship alive.

Here is a tough pill I’ve had to force myself to swallow lately.

Let’s say you mess up. You’re wrong, you’re in a bad spot, and you send someone a text message essentially tossing out a lifeline, waiting for them to step up. You want them to come save you, or help you, or just show up to prove they care.

When they don’t? That silence is deafening. But more importantly, it is incredibly illuminating.

If you send that vulnerable message and they don’t come to your rescue—if they choose to leave you on read, or worse, hit that block button—that shows you exactly where their mindset is. It shows you exactly how they view you and what their feelings actually are.

If they really did care, they wouldn’t have blocked you. They would have come to rescue you. They would have responded, even if they were mad, instead of just shutting the door entirely. But they didn’t.

Let’s be real for a second: they aren’t going to come back and contact me.

At some point, the lack of an answer is the answer. I have to learn to take the hint once I am blocked on everything. They are done. The curtain has closed, the credits are rolling, and the theater staff is sweeping up the popcorn around my feet while I’m still sitting in the dark, convincing myself that the unfinished business means there’s a sequel coming.

I guess what it boils down to is this: my intentions always mean well. I genuinely care, I want to resolve things, and I have a lot of love to give. I am fiercely loyal and I don’t give up on people easily.

But my delivery? My delivery makes my intentions look completely otherwise.

So, here is to learning, growing, and putting the magnifying glass down. Here is to realizing that closure isn’t something someone else magically hands to you in a perfectly worded apology text; it’s something you have to give yourself. And here is to keeping our hands far, far away from the keyboard when we see that “Message Not Delivered” notification.

We’ve got this. Probably.

Love, Tina

You’re not addicted.

You’re overwhelmed.

And you’ve been coping… not solving.

Fix the direction, not just the habit. 🧠

I hope you’ve followed me, which means we will meet again soon.

Keep Going Keep Growing 🚀

#AddictionAwareness #MentalClarity #PurposeDrivenLife #SelfImprovement #EmotionalHealth

[Addiction Awareness; Mental Clarity; Purpose Driven Life; Self Improvement; Emotional Health]

Why My Door Isn’t Just Locked, It’s Deadbolted

Hey guys, it’s Tina. Grab a coffee—or a glass of wine, I’m not judging—because we need to have a little “state of the union” meeting about my personal space.

You know that feeling when you finally clean out that one junk drawer in your kitchen? The one filled with dead batteries, mystery keys, and soy sauce packets from 2019? You feel lighter, right? Well, I’ve spent the last few months doing that, but with my life. And let me tell you, the “reorganization” is officially complete.

I recently shared a sentiment that I think a lot of us feel but are too “polite” to say out loud: Respectfully, please do not attempt to rekindle anything with me. It’s not beef, it’s closed. The door is closed. 💯

I think there’s this huge misconception that if you aren’t talking to someone, you must be “mad” or “holding a grudge.” People love drama. They want the tea. They want to know who said what and why I’m “beefing” with so-and-so.

But here’s the honest, human truth: I’m too tired for beef. Beef takes energy. Beef requires me to remember why I was annoyed in the first place. Keeping a grudge is like carrying a backpack full of bricks—it’s heavy, it makes your back hurt, and honestly? It’s just not a good look with my outfit.

When I say the door is closed, I’m not slamming it in a fit of rage. I’m closing it gently, turning the deadbolt, and walking away to go take a nap. It’s not about hate; it’s about finality.

We’ve all been there. You get that “Hey, thinking of you!” text at 11:00 PM on a Tuesday from someone you haven’t spoken to in two years. Or the “I saw this and thought of you” meme from the person who treated you like an option instead of a priority.

In the past, I was the Queen of the “Second (and Third, and Fourth) Chance.” I’d think, “Maybe they’ve changed!” or “It’s better to be nice than to be distant.” alert: They usually haven’t changed, and being “nice” to people who drain your battery is just a slow way to go into low-power mode.

Closing the door isn’t mean. It’s maintenance.

• Space is Limited: My life is a VIP lounge now, not a public park. I only have so much emotional bandwidth. If I’m spending time wondering if a “rekindled” friendship is going to blow up in my face again, I’m not spending that time on the people who have been standing by me all along.

• The Peace is Addictive: Once you experience a month of zero drama because you stopped letting “rekindlers” back in, you can’t go back. It’s like switching from dial-up internet to fiber optic. Why would I go back to the lagging and the noise?

• No Hard Feelings, Just No Feelings: This is the part people find hardest to understand. You can forgive someone and still not want to grab lunch with them. I wish everyone the best! I hope they win the lottery. I hope they find their soulmate. I just hope they do it on the other side of that closed door.

If you’re reading this and feeling a little guilty about someone you’ve phased out—don’t. You are allowed to outgrow people. You are allowed to decide that a chapter is finished. You don’t owe anyone an “update” or a “re-entry” just because you used to be close.

Growth is messy, and sometimes growth means realizing that some people were meant to be a season, not a series.

So, to anyone wondering where I’ve been or why I’m not “circling back”: I’m busy enjoying the quiet. The door isn’t just closed; I’ve actually moved the furniture in front of it and decorated the hallway. It looks great in here.

Stay peaceful, stay picky, and keep those doors locked.

Love,

Tina

Why My Friends Need to Stay Alive (Literally)

Hey everyone, Tina here.

I was scrolling through my phone the other day and came across a quote that hit me right in the soul—and my bank account. It said: “Please don’t die if you owe me money, I would hate to go through your pockets at the funeral.”

Now, before you call me heartless, let’s be real for a second. We all have that one friend. You know the one. They’re the light of the party, the person who gives the best hugs, the one who is always “just five minutes away” (which actually means they haven’t left their house yet). But they are also the friend who, whenever the check comes at dinner, suddenly discovers their banking app is “glitching” or they “left their wallet in their other jeans.”

I love my friends. I really do. I’d take a bullet for them. But I’m starting to realize I’d also like my $45 back for that bottomless brunch in 2022.

Think about the logistics of that quote for a second. Can you imagine the scene? There I am, Tina, dressed in my most respectful black dress, dabbing my eyes with a silk handkerchief. I lean over the casket for one final, tearful goodbye. The family is watching, moved by my clear devotion.

But instead of a whisper of “Rest in peace,” I’m actually feeling for the outline of a leather billfold. Is that a twenty? No, that’s just a lining. Wait, is that a Chase sapphire card? I’d be the first person in history to get kicked out of a funeral not for making a scene, but for trying to Venmo request a corpse. “Listen, Steve, I know you’re busy being eternal right now, but we talked about the Coachella tickets, man!”

Being the “Tina” of the group usually means I’m the one with the working credit card and the slightly-too-forgiving nature. I’ve become a reluctant micro-lender. My Venmo history looks like a charity foundation that specifically funds iced lattes and “emergency” Uber Rides for people who live three blocks away.

The problem is, when you lend money to friends, you enter a weird social limbo. You don’t want to be that person who brings it up every time you see them.

• Them: “I’m having such a hard week.”

• Me (Internal Monologue): “I know what would make you feel better… settling your debts.”

But instead, I just nod and say, “That sounds so tough, babe,” while mentally calculating how many tacos I could have bought with the money they owe me.

So, this is my official PSA to all my friends: Please, for the love of everything holy, stay hydrated. Eat your vegetables. Look both ways before crossing the street. Wear a helmet. Not just because I love your personality and your chaotic energy, but because I’ve worked too hard for my savings to have them buried six feet under in your back pocket.

I don’t want to have to do “funeral math.” I don’t want to be standing at a memorial service wondering if your estate covers the $12.50 you owe me for that shared appetizer that you ate 80% of anyway.

If you’re reading this and you feel a slight itch of guilt—don’t panic. I’m not coming for your pockets yet. But maybe, just maybe, check your Venmo requests today? Let’s keep our friendship (and your life) in good standing.

Because let’s be honest: I look terrible in a mugshot, and “robbing a casket for gas money” is a really hard thing to explain to a judge.

Stay safe, stay alive, and stay paid up.

Love always,

Tina

People raised on love see things differently than those raised on survival.

By Joy Marino

#mentalhealth #mentalwellbeing #trauma #emotionalhealth #inspiration #resilience #mentalwellness #ymhc

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