Return to reality

It sucks. I hate it. It’s like I’ve been in a horrible car accident and now I have to deal with the aftermath. I was in a horrible car accident when I was 18, so I know. 

Maybe coming back to reality in Montego Bay, Jamaica wasn’t a good place, but I don’t know where would’ve been a good place. Captain America loves it here. Probably because he has money and a penis so he isn’t harassed in the same way as I am and the effects of being ripped off aren’t so detrimental to his pocketbook. 

I looked to fly out of here, well prices have gone up significantly in the last six weeks. There aren’t any boats here to try and leave with. I am on my last dollars and need to spend wisely. 

Now I’m just filled with panic and worry I made the wrong decision. Maybe I should’ve gone on the boat to Panama or the boat to Guatemala. I can easily get to where I can find work from those places. But I didn’t and something told me not to go so I have to trust it. I have to be calm and believe it will all work out. It always does. Something always comes along when I just relax and trust. Sometimes that’s harder to do than other times…

The people in the marina are nice (minus the quarantine officer who disagreed with Captain America about me being a spring chicken!!!), we of course got ripped off trying to take a taxi into town. Luckily not my money. I never would’ve gotten in the car with him. Then we sit at the marina bar. The locals seem nice, an American comes up and we start talking. 

I just don’t get it. I try to embrace the fact people like being around me and my energy. Of course it gets me things, but more often than not it gets me in uncomfortable situations I have to get out of. Not dangerous ones, just “no I don’t like you like that” situations. I just treat all men and women like this.

So I’m talking with the American and say how it’s annoying to travel alone as a woman because many times people think if I’m nice and ask to be taken around, they think I want sex with them. I have learned how to ward that off and my experience in Cuba was thankfully not like that. You would think this would be a hint, right? 

Nope! He asks what boat I’m on so maybe we can all meet tomorrow. Then he says he’ll show me the boat he is on. We go there, then he starts with this crap about knowing he was going to meet an amazing woman tonight and blah, blah, the same compliments I’ve heard a million times. I switched off and started thinking how great it would be to just have friends. Just friends. No obligation, no being on guard that my personality is going to be misinterpreted that I want sex. Just someone to spend time with. I had that in Cuba, I guess I should be grateful I had a few days of that. Maybe that’s why the effect is harder now. 

I make my excuses to leave, he pretends to be a gentlemen and walk me back. He hugs me, tries to go in for a kiss which I avoid and then asks for another hug. My heart fell. Being in Jamaica is easier when I’m with a man and Captain America and I don’t travel the same way. Oh well, I guess I will get lots of reading done on the boat until I can get out of this country. 

Some people say I should be grateful for my looks and for the attention I get. I am when it’s the right person! Try walking down the street with a sign that says, “Will have sex with anyone and everyone,” as apparently that’s what my energy reads. I don’t enjoy it. I am constantly on guard. I want to be me and smile and be friendly and treat people like humans, but it’s usually misinterpreted. I hate it. I need to learn to manage it better so I don’t have to be on guard. I know that’s my issue. I wouldn’t change my looks or personality and I certainly can’t change how people react to me so it’s me that needs to manage it to go through life more relaxed. 

Not only that crap, but I have to answer questions from so many people. My parents, friends, immigration, myself. They are normal questions but I don’t live a normal life so I don’t have the answers people want. Or even answers for myself!! Cubans have a different mind frame, they don’t ask those kinds of questions. Sailors don’t ask those kind of questions. I’m not used to them after a month break. 

Then dealing with banks, flights, finding a job, my feelings of not being with Captain Cool, etc. The list goes on in reality. All I can do is close my eyes, think of Ben and the other beautiful people I met in Cuba and wish I could teleport myself there with lots of money so I can stay longer. It gives me a moment of tranquility to get through the next question. 

This is just an adjustment. I’m used to change, it doesn’t get easier, I just know how to deal with it better. I’m ok for I still have a sense of self and peace and that it will all work out. I’m just experiencing culture shock for the millionth time. I’m experiencing coming down from an incredible high. 

So what do I do? Meditate, do yoga and stay calm. I have asked the universe to send me a boat to where I am supposed to be. I should open it up a bit more to an opportunity to where I need to me. Hell, the American said he would pay me to stay here. Yuck, the things I would have to do… No, I value myself too much! That definitely wasn’t the opportunity!! 

Move forward, have faith. It will all be ok. It always is. 


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