I’ve heard everything from the universe is trying to right something in my life that is off of its axis to London just sucks, but all of my house hunting has been futile this far. I had a lovely place lined up for the first of this month when certain situations (my landlords here wanted me to stay longer & I didn’t realize I needed to give 60 days notice, angry tween spazzed & after I moved my timeline to January, I was presented with an implication of the possibility of getting everything I ever wanted) arose, I had to decline, as they couldn’t hold it for me. Now I can’t find anything suitable for my family. I’ve been down to London 4 times & each time have found nothing. Balls.
But setbacks are simply setups for comebacks, so instead of moping about, this has strengthened my resolve to leave Windsor & start over. It’ll just take a little longer than I planned. I’ll get through the holidays & save up a little more & then move.
My friend Gigi asked me if there was anything worth staying in Windsor for & I presented her a scenario in which I said I would have “won @ life.” She laughed. However, I’m not big on waiting for my future to come to me, or for the universe’s grand design. If the universe is keeping me here for a couple of extra months, then it best get on providing the reason why, because I’m in no mood to play games hahaha. I can be VERY stubborn & I AM LEAVING. I am starting over. I will do that in a new city. None of these setbacks mean anything, because I’m determined to make my life what I want. I want to be happy. I want a great life for my girls & a place to build my portfolio & maybe even a happily ever after with the love of my life. In order to do that, I need to be focused on the things I need to do to make that happen. So, I’ll research what city is best for me, I’ll keep striving to be the best Mama that I can be & I’ll keep writing my “how to not screw up your life by doing the opposite of what I do,” manual known as this blog, because it makes me a stronger writer. Focusing on those things that make me most happy while continuing to focus on my relocation will keep me grounded & will make it that much more satisfying when it all comes together & I’m sitting in my new home, in my new city, enjoying my new life.
So, challenge away universe. I’m pretty determined & when I set my mind on something, there’s no stopping. I’ll get what I want…just watch me.
It was geek Christmas. The theatrical release of Catching Fire, which I enjoyed with the not so angriest tween. The new Legend of Zelda came out, which I promptly bought before my shift & I bought Baptized, the latest Daughtry album & enjoyed all of the new songs.
I couldn’t imagine living a life where things like an afternoon with my daughter or a great song on the radio didn’t make the whole day amazing. I couldn’t imagine a life where simple things like that don’t make your day brighter & happier. I love that the tiniest things in life can make the whole world shine a little brighter.
So, laugh with a friend today. Play a game. Sing the goofiest song ever with your kids. Sing along with mall music or play in the rain. Do something little & let it make your whole day bright & wonderful.
I’ve been thinking a lot about dating lately, mainly because my friend is doing a lot of it. She’s on a new first date almost every weekend. I wish I could be that person sometimes; the person who can detach themselves until they’re ready to get attached, I’m not sure why. But I’m not. I’m just that one man girl. However, as I (hopefully) move into my new home (as house hunting has become a clusterf*ck), I realize that I need to be open to the idea of falling in love again. I don’t think I’m ready just yet, but in case I do meet someone in my new city, I need to be open to the idea that my Mr. Right is there somewhere. So, over the last few weeks, I’ve been focusing on finding a house, letting go of the life I knew & opening myself up to the idea of dating again.
I know there is a right person out there for me. I don’t know if I’ve met them, if I haven’t, but they are somewhere. But I figure he should be prepared for what life with me will be like, so I wrote this letter.
Dear Soulmate,
I don’t know if I’ve met you yet. Maybe I did. Maybe we’ve dated & messed it up & the universe keeps trying to make it right. Maybe you’re the hot guy @ the Wind Mobile store who gave me directions while house hunting last month. Maybe you’re one of those first dates I never gave a chance. Maybe you’re a childhood friend I’ll casually bump into. Maybe you’re someone I’ve never met & when I do, I’ll know why everyone before you sucked. But once the universe puts us together, I wanted to let you know a few things so we can work.
1. My kids & my writing come first. Always. These are my true loves & I need to put them first. They were here before you. They’ll be here after you. I don’t expect you to raise my girls, but if you meet them, I expect you to love them. If you promise them something, keep it. Be good to them. Treat them the way you would want me to treat your family. They are sweet, wonderful children & they will love you so much. Don’t break their hearts. Respect my writing. Know it’s my life. Be proud of me when I land a great story because I’ll be thrilled to death.
2. My life is generally a chaotic mess of my own making. I’m trying; really. If you could just stick around & gently help me learn the values of organization & time management instead of tsk tsking, I’d really appreciate it.
3. I’m good in a crisis, but little things tear me to pieces. There’s a reason, and someday I’ll tell you.
4. I will always be afraid that you’ll leave me. ALWAYS. It’s not that I won’t trust you, it’s just I’m always afraid of losing people. It’ll make me clingy sometimes. Just sit me down & look me in the eye & tell me to chill out because you love me & it’ll be okay.
5. Please don’t ask my friends how to talk to me, or to relay info to me. Please talk to me. Things get messed up that way. Let’s keep everything between us (& with your permission, high level blog fodder).
6. I won’t get jealous per say, but I will tell you if something is bothering me. I will also trust you to handle those situations in a way that you see fit. I don’t tell men what to do. I explain why it bugs me & trust you. I don’t see the point in getting pissy.
7. I’ll have infinite patience for your crap. I’ll give you a million chances & if you’re worth it, take you back if you walk away. Because I love unconditionally, without restrictions & see you for what you are & embrace it. You will be safe & adored with me. You will be treated like Superman.
8. That doesn’t mean treat me like crap either. I’m not going to devalue me for you like I did with all of my other relationships with men. If I’m kissing your ass because I think you’re Prince Charming, than you should treat me like post-slipper Cinderella. You should know that I’m beautiful & special & I deserve to be happy too. You should want to make me as happy as I’m dying to make you & if you don’t want to do that, then you are too selfish to be with ANYONE, least of all me. Relationships are about loving each other, not sucking someone’s love like a sponge & leaving them when your ego is boosted, or expecting someone to be your saviour & make you feel awesome while you are degrading or abusing me. One person shouldn’t be doing all of the giving. I will always give you more, it’s my nature, but I’m not going to accept a man’s complete lack of effort. Love is work. Love is about doing the right thing for the other person, because even if it wasn’t what you might have wanted, you made that person happy. If you try, even a little, I’ll give you the damn world; but I think I’m worth you making me a little happy too. I am smart & pretty & charismatic & charming. I am strong & patient & brave & have survived more than you will ever know. I am driven to succeed & have done well thus far. I am great @ trivia & can use big words in their proper context. I’m well read & elegant, but love wrestling & beer. I’m awesome & I’m worth a lot: I’m worth swallowing pride for. I’m worth admitting you are wrong & I am worth fighting for, even if you’re fighting some internal battle with yourself & if you don’t know that, then there is another man that will & this letter is for him.
9. I’m weird. I sing along with mall music, I’m often immature. I’m a general goofball. I generally have the weight of the world on my shoulders, so when I get to be “free” I like to let loose. I don’t care how much I love you, I will hang up on you during a boss fight while playing Zelda & I strongly recommend backing off on criticizing The Hunger Games trilogy. I’m a proud nerd. I will whip your ass @ Mario Kart & attempt to whip your ass @ Halo & I’ll definitely whip your ass @ Backgammon as I learned from the master; my father. I’ll also do all of this while explaining life lessons found in To Kill a Mockingbird, Edgar Allen Poe & Winnie the Pooh.
Just one of my nerdier moments
10. I'm crazy. General anxiety disorder is the technical term. I have panic attacks. So, when crap goes wrong, I'll freak out. I'll be terrified that everything is wrong. I'll try to pull you closer because I don't want to lose you. I do it to my friends too. Please don't pull away, even if that's your instinct, because it'll make me more afraid, as during these periods I'm as emotionally fragile as a baby bird. Just hold me & talk me through it & I'll go back to being the perfectly understanding girlfriend who doesn't get mad & allows you all of your space in about half an hour. If I am holding on too tightly, tell me. Say "MH, I get it, but chill the eff out because I feel strangled." I'll listen. But I can't do that if you don't tell me. I don't read minds & if you don't tell me what's wrong, I'll get more panicked trying to fix it. Tell me what's going on & we'll work on it together.
11. Sometimes I'm going to need you to be my rock. I'll be yours too. I'll be yours through everything. Just come to me & I'll make it okay. In fact, I'll prally be there more for you than me, because I generally bottle things up until I'm crazy, crying MH. Please find this endearing, or at least tolerable, because no one ever does.
12. I will never pretend to like your sports or your crappy music or that lame show you watch. But I’ll sit through them while making you food & I won’t ask stupid questions. I don’t expect you to like mine either. However, a healthy appreciation for pancakes is appreciated.
15. This may seem like a pretty big list, but I promise you it’s super simple, because I’ll love you more & better than a anyone else pretty much ever. I’ll treat you like you’re the best non-parenting thing that ever happened to me. I’ll gush about you. I’ll be your biggest fan. I’ll be your ally in life and we’ll be a team. I promise I’ll make loving me worth it by giving you everything you ever wanted. But if all else fails, I’m really pretty. That should help a little.
See? Super pretty!
I’m excited to see who you turn out to be. I hope we have an amazing love story, like some Nicholas Sparks level junk. I hope you’ll know how much I love you & how much I’ll value & respect you. I hope you know how much I’ll put up with to make you happy & I hope you’ll do the same for me. I hope you’ll know that I already think you’re amazing & I don’t even know who you are! I hope you’re wondering if you’ll ever meet a person just like me (or how to return to me, or turn friendship into love or if I’ll come back to your Wind Mobile kiosk). Like Katy Perry says, “I know you’re out there & you’re looking for me,” & I hope you come soon, because while I’m cool with single life, I kind of want to stare into your eyes & have my breath taken away.
A good friend of mine sent me this article last week & I’ve been reading it & rereading it for about a week.
I guess it hit home because it could have been written by…me (save for a few parts, as the article references adultery, which was not an issue & some of the character definitions were a little strong. But the jist of it).
For a year I struggled to get over the man I thought was so amazing, but everyone, even his best friends said was a psychopath & a jerk. I just recently wrote a sobbing piece because I love him so much that I would literally do anything for him & he wouldn’t do a damn thing for me. This came after he told my friend he was coming back for me after a year of healing. I couldn’t take the pain anymore. But now, I think I understand.
There was NOTHING I could have done.
He’s too damaged.
He’s too broken.
He’s a narcissist who uses women to feel happy & then crushes them to rebuild an ego broken long ago. He’s as bitter and broken as everyone said. I am very flawed, but this wasn’t me. I could have been PERFECT but it never would have been enough. Like my girlfriend said that night, “he’ll always just want more.”
So, I’m going to do what I was unable to do for so long. Not just because I had been conditioned by him to believe he’d come back, but because of all the things the article said. I feel better, knowing it took others just as long to heal. But now I’m going to find someone who loves me & wants to make me happy too. Because I deserve that.
I can’t promise follow through if he were in front of me, but I would never initiate a conversation if I saw him or even go over to say hi. No. But I’m not going to punish myself for his actions anymore. He proudly manipulated me. That’s him. Not me. It’s not my fault that he’s that person that destroys people. I gave him the best I had; not perfect, but I tried. By his own admission, he never put in a single ounce of effort. He was happy & then when he got spooked, he made the choice not to talk to me & push me away. HE chose to reach out right when I was moving on & then watch my heart break from the sidelines, boosting his ego. He didn’t have to put my friend in the middle, further straining my relationship with someone I’m wondering how much of a friend they were. He could have called, sent flowers with a card, come to my damn door. But no, he needed to feel loved & I was an easy target . He likely needs help (& I wanted to help him so badly), because my friend was right, he’s everything she said he was & I was just another notch, while he was the love of my life…for now. But like 80% of the population, he deflects it on to the women he crushes. Always them. Never him. I wasn’t perfect, but I was good to him. It’s all I wanted to be. I forgave all the jerk stuff. The number of times he walked out for no reason. Gave him a free pass to walk back in. I made mistakes, sometimes I needed reassurance. Sometimes I overreacted. Sometimes I pushed too hard to get to know him because I was so afraid that he’d turn out like the others & physically hurt me. I let my own past scare me & I would get afraid that he’d walk out again that I would try too damn hurt. But I was good to him & his child, better than I had been to any man. But, it’ll always need to be more. Even after all of this time & his claims he manipulated me for fun, etc. I still believed that he was the facade he created. But now I know they were right. He is everything they said & not worth the tears I cried.
So, I’ll meet someone & they’ll be the one. Or the one that sticks. But it doesn’t scare me anymore. Because he’ll never love anyone, not me, not himself, to evaluate why he continues to hit & run, only to look back & reach out & hurt me over & over. I used to believe that he loved me, & that he needs to work on himself because he leaves all of these people in his wake, & that I wanted to help him figure out why he did this to himself so I could give him the emotional support he needed, but I think maybe my friend is right & he’s too screwed up to love someone (or himself) & be happy. He’ll never love anyone, not me, not his child, not himself to admit that underneath all of the narcissism & bravado & vanity, he hates himself & still asks “what if” about every choice he makes. He punishes himself so much for past sins & women for the mistakes the one he loved first made & had he let me in, I would have helped him have the life that he wanted. But he’ll never admit that he hates himself & always hide behind his ego. Every woman will fail him, because he wants everything & nothing & complete control & to never have to make a choice to be second guessed & judged. He’ll never let someone close enough to him to let him see that he doesn’t need to push everyone away, he doesn’t need to play the jerk womanizer. He’ll always want perfection (while giving next to nothing) & no one is perfect. He’ll never see that someone loving him the way he wants isn’t “clingy” or “too invested” & he’ll always hold onto to the ghosts of the few women he did love & that hurt him (or that he hurt) & use that as an excuse for why he hurts women. He’ll always do this, to every woman & hide behind the masks & he’ll never truly be happy. Somehow, that is the saddest part of it all. Because he deserves to be happy. Not “happy with me,” but happy in life, even if his source of happiness was tearing me apart for sport, because while he may have lied, I didn’t. I only wanted him here if he wanted to be, because he loved me & because he knew that no matter what happened, I’d love him unconditionally & I’d do anything to make him happy. But if he didn’t want that, then I wanted him to find what he did want. I only believed it was me because he always found a way to talk about me, observe me. I never chased him, he sought me out, to the point where it strained my friendships because they felt in the middle. I let him go, just like he asked, but he made sure I knew he was around, just close enough to keep his hold but not enough to be here. I didn’t think it was a game; I thought he loved me & didn’t know what he wanted. I thought he was torn between doing the right thing & his own selfish ways. He always said I knew him better than he knew himself, so I thought if I just waited & lived my life, he’d sort through his desire to be the “family man” & “the man whore” & his love for me & my girls would win out in the end. I wanted to give him every chance to come back, finally let me in & I would love the person he truly was. I knew how hard it was for him & I was going to love him so much that he never had to feel like anything less than my Prince Charming. Had he ever shown up, he told me to tell him no, but I wouldn’t have. No, I would have told him that I love him & I understand. I will always understand & I’d hold him & tell him we made mistakes, but we’ll learn & get through it. I was going to give him whatever he needed to feel happy & comfortable & he’d finally have what he always wanted; someone who loved him enough to make him a priority, & look past all of the self sabotage, love him when he’s his worst & take the meanness & see the man he truly is; the vulnerable & sweet person who just wants someone to love them but fears losing them or letting them down, so he has to push them away, hurt them, break their heart so his will never get broken again. I wanted to show him that as he got closer, he wouldn’t get hurt, because I couldn’t hurt him, because it’s not in my nature. Even now, I couldn’t hurt him because I’m in love with him & want him to be happy. I could never have hurt him on purpose & had I by accident, I would have done anything I could to make it up to him. I was going to love him enough to make up for all the women that broke his heart. But, in the end, he’ll always pull away so he doesn’t get hurt again. Kill or be killed…& I got slaughtered. He lied; I didn’t. I meant what I said; I love him & only want the best for him, because he is a good man somewhere in there. The man I love was real. So, I’ll choose to remember the man I love, and not the man he showed me he really was and someday, I hope he becomes the man I saw, because he’s amazing & could change the world. He is the sweet, gentle man I fell in love with & he could be so much more than he allows himself to be, if he would heal the wounds that forced him to become what he is; a broken man who refuses to let anyone near him & pushes away everyone who truly loves him in favour of boosting his ego, not realizing that if he would let someone truly love him, he could be happy, the greatest ego boost of all.
I realized that I used to question people’s motives. Why are you calling me? What do you want? When are you going to hurt me? This affected my interpersonal relationships because I was very easily swayed. I was skittish, because I felt like I couldn’t make choices on my own. So, my best friend said that this person is being a jerk, don’t trust them, keep this person out, etc. I trusted everything they said like the Gospel, because, after all, I was the dippy girl who kept getting into trouble. Then I learned that my “best friend” lied to me about pretty much everything. This made me question everything; how I reacted to certain situations, people, etc. Were those my fears, or planted fears of a pessimist?
I’m not a pessimist. I’m an optimist. I love believing in goodness & second chances & third & ten millionth chances. We all eff up sometimes. We all act like assholes sometimes & we want another chance. So, blind trust or not, I’ll believe that anyone who comes into my life (or comes back in) has the best of intentions. If I’m wrong, maybe they will the next time or the next. I don’t want to be a cynic. I want to trust people. Maybe not as much as I do (I leave my phone laying on my work kiosk ALL OF THE TIME), but I will trust my inner circle…& my own instincts.
So, maybe it’s blind trust, or blind faith. But I’d rather believe in the goodness of people than be the person who believes everyone is out to screw you over. I don’t want to become cynical & jaded like so many others & if I get hurt, it’s my cross to bear. So, I’ll learn to trust people by trusting them & allowing them to earn it back as many times as needed. Maybe I’ll get rocked once in awhile, but I’ll retain my faith in humanity.
I have a love/hate relationship with social media.
I have enough of it; Facebook, Twitter, Instagram & Tumblr (the last mainly exists for my 12yo to re-blog various photos from her fave shows). Most are controlled, with advanced privacy settings, except for Twitter, because apparently as a writer I need a social media footprint or something.
Then, my mom joined Twitter.
After that, I would have conversations with my mom about my various tweets:
Mom: “are you mad @ me? You tweeted that you’re mad.”
Me: No mother.
Mom: “Why did you tweet about pancakes?”
Me: Because I really like them mother.
Mom: “Why did you re-tweet that sappy thing & what’s a retweet & should I be doing it?”
Me: because I was bored on a bus & it sounded pretty & it’s…no, no you shouldn’t.
(Also, let’s all wave to my mother, who is now a huge fan of this blog. No, I’m not mad @ you. Enjoy Twitter)
But it does annoy me that we have regressed to the point where we think we understand someone’s life from 140 characters or who they follow on Twitter. WWE websites were abuzz when former Diva Maryse Ouellet unfollowed the shared account of current WWE Divas Brie & Nikki Bella. Gasp! What does this mean? That Ouellet is passive aggressive? That the Bella Twins & Ouellet had a falling out? Why is this news? Miley Cyrus unfollowed former fiancé Liam Hemsworth as reports of his serial adultery surfaced. Again, why is Twitter news?
I am not passive aggressive by any stretch of the imagination. I may not be confrontational, but if I’m mad, YOU WILL KNOW. If I want something, you’ll know, because I’ll get it (just ask the good people @ various record labels who told me I couldn’t talk to their artists. I’m like a pitbull. PS with the exception of two, I got every single artist I asked for. My current boss learned this when I said in my interview I was not leaving without that job), and if I have something to say, I’ll tell you. I hate when someone says “Oh hey, I saw on FB that you like pancakes!” (I’ll assume you’re new), because I miss conversations & I hate that social media is sort of replacing it. As a writer, I’m conflicted. I need to have a social media footprint to encourage readers, but I’m also tired of my friends & family using it to learn about me in lieu of talking to me. Not to mention the weird habit of creeping people, etc. Yuck.
Because it annoys me so , I decided to reject all forms of indirect communication. Passive aggressive Facebook statuses (if you do it, you’re unfriended. The end), subtweets, and third party message delivery service. No mas. I’m going to bring back the lost art of conversation if it kills me. Like I told the angry tween, if someone wants to talk to me , I am easily found. My address hasn’t changed (yet), my number either (yet) & thanks to Facebook, generally people know where I am when I’m out socially, which is almost never. Short of me boasting a neon sign that says “MH IS HERE” with an arrow pointing down, I am most definitely not Waldo. I also do not tolerate third party conversations that can get lost in translation. As my coworkers have learned, I won’t even discuss things over text, because they can be misconstrued. If someone wants to talk to me, be around me, be in my life, etc. then talk to me, be around me, etc. I firmly believe in direct contact, not playing telephone or leaving messages with a friend or whatever. I believe that if someone wants to be around me, no matter what’s happened , they will summon every ounce of courage in their body, swallow their pride & come find me, much like Gigi did a year ago. But I will not chase anyone. If you left my life for any reason, it’s up to you to walk back in. Much like Gigi learned, I’m not really a grudge holder & there is one person in this life that I will forgive absolutely everything. If you want to be around me, then it’s up to you to make that step, & if you choose to make that step, I’m pretty easy to find. Just ask…or appear. I’ll be found.
I must seem a titch hypocritical, writing about my annoyance with social media, which I will then blast over social media for you to read, but I don’t hate social media. I hate the misuse of it & when it replaces real human interaction. It’s like my thing with television; as an entertainment reporter, I obviously need it to makes my living, but I do not need to be a slave to it, which is why the girls & I lock up the phones, turn off the computer & TV twice a week & have technology free days where we go outside & play with toys & such. So, let’s stop using our social media accounts as our sole way to interact with people & actually talk to them. You’re likely missing all the important stuff that you can’t find in a status update or 140 characters.
I once wrote a blog post defending my doormat personality.
One of my oldest friends gave me crap. He told me that me continuing to be the big hearted doormat would leave me feeling empty & hollow with no direction. He was right.
Then, a Facebook friend (& the author of Coffee & Curse Words) started sharing all of the things he did to make his life better & honestly, he’s one of the happiest & most honest people I know.
I mentioned in passing that I envied him for being able to take control of his life & live it & he very succinctly reminded me that I could too, if I wanted to. After all, no one is really chained in one place. There are work arounds for everything. All we need to do is take control. He wrote a post about learning to be happy, & he mentioned putting yourself first…something I have NEVER done. All of my life I’ve lived for other people & I was left feeling under appreciated & broken & a simpering whiner, a poor role model for my daughters. I allowed it, because I thought being a doormat showed people I loved them. It might have, but it also showed people that I wasn’t an equal, to the point that people cut ties with me once I started demanding to be equal. People blamed their faults, insecurities & cruelty on me. It’s my fault you’re an asshole because I was insecure. It’s my fault you’re a liar because I might cry. I started to believe it; I was a toxic person, until my oldest friend reminded me that my life was much calmer, much more tranquil without the “friends” & how I seemed much more like my bad ass self. Maybe it wasn’t just me. Maybe they are jerks & I allow people to treat me like crap because I want so much to please people that I justify it to myself & everyone else. But what about MH? What happens to her? I think she’s pretty amazing & deserves a Helluva lot better than she’s been dealt, so she’s through taking crap.
I was going to start living & loving me.
I decided it was time for a change. Over the last few months, I started writing in a cathartic manner, letting out all of the things I held in. I often forget people read my blog, so I was writing for me, to get out all of the emotions I held onto. I’m glad that you could relate, but I was doing it for me.
Then, I thought about what I wanted for me. Yes, me. No more thinking about my friends, family, ex husband, potential love interests. ME. I came to three conclusions (well, four. But one isn’t an option, so I’m focusing on the three that are):
1. I want to work in media. I want to freelance for a new magazine, learn new skills & maybe in a different genre.
2. I don’t want to live in Windsor & haven’t for almost three years. The job market isn’t what I would want, the media opportunities are slim & my child is almost a teenager & is thinking of her future & I don’t think I would want her attending St. Clair College or the University of Windsor (before anyone jumps on me, I did graduate from St. Clair College…twice.)
3. I want my daughters to grow up in a city that is growing, thriving. Something that isn’t bound by industry or union struggles. A place that has growth.
So, when an opportunity arose to leave Windsor with my job & benefits intact, I jumped. I gave my landlord notice. I signed the dotted line & in 89 days, I will be in my new home in a new city.
This is the most selfish thing I’ve ever done & I’m thrilled. My house has been chosen by me, with no one’s approval. I didn’t ask a million people if they thought it was a good idea. I made a choice for my life & ran with it. I’m finally doing what I’ve wanted to do since I filed for divorce & that’s move away from Windsor & build my life & career in a new city with new opportunities. I’m showing my girls that you need to do what’s best for yourself, even if it’s not necessarily popular (which it hasn’t been). My friends don’t necessarily agree, but they are being supportive. I can still be a kind person, but like my friend said a year ago, I don’t need to sacrifice the best parts of me to please people. I need to be selfish & live my life on my terms for me.
So, the next 89 days will boast trick or treating, Christmas, purging a whole bunch of stuff we don’t need, donating, painting a hallway my children drew on & as 2013 comes to a close, the next chapter of my life begins & it’s one I’m excited to start.
I come up with some of the stupidest ideas EVER. The latest? I was so inspired by my latest life changes that I decided to ditch my signature black locks for a light brown, more natural look. It’ll take a long time, but it’ll be awesome when it’s done.
But right now, it’s weird & kind of…orange. The orange awkward phase got me thinking, so here are Life lessons from bleaching my own hair:
Change is painful. It damages you, sucks you dry & makes you wish you could go back to the beginning. There’s awkward phases where you want to hide & you bit by bit pull every ounce of darkness. Then, after the process, you’re left with something you’ve always wanted; brighter, warmer & beautiful. So don’t fret if you’re in the awkward parts or the painful parts of life. It’ll get easier & you’ll like who you are when it’s done.
Spoiler: Do not read if you have not yet watched the season premiere of Glee.
I rarely watch television, but there are about four shows that I enjoy & one of them is Glee.
I was disappointed that I missed the premiere (as I was on a train heading home from house hunting), so I followed along on Social Media & was delighted to read that my favourite couple, Kurt & Blaine had reconciled & were now engaged. As I read the details of the over the top proposal, I read people everywhere demanding a proposal like that, which reminded me of a recent post on one of my favourite blogs, Mommy Man, sharing my disdain for over the top marriage proposals. (Something I mention on this site regularly after the finale of the Bachelorette)
Credit: Fox Television
I do not find them romantic; I always feel like that Star Wars character that screams “it’s a trap!” After all, your whole family is there, or an arena full of people, or a flash mob & they’re all staring @ you waiting for an answer, so you have to say yes or you’re an asshole. Then you have to plan a wedding, where the bride is the centre of attention & everyone is staring & critiquing everything, & everyone is mad because so & so wasn’t invited or the bridesmaids hate their dresses & nothing is about the celebration of two people joining their lives, it’s about this party that’s worth the down payment of a house & the whole process freaks me out. While it’s sweet when Blaine plans this for Kurt, as the world of Glee is meant to be over the top, I’d probably stand there, deer caught in the headlights & then puke.
I caught up with an old friend this week & we were talking about how she & her partner are in no rush to wed because it just works for them & she reminded me that even when we were kids, I was never the “wedding” type. I always said I wanted to elope & we would just tell people when we felt like it. I’m not good with commitment; I’ve discussed it twice. Once with the sudden proposal & I spent my entire engagement trying to get out of the wedding, including nearly jilting my ex-husband @ the altar. I got my amazing daughters, so the union wasn’t a total wash, but it’s apparent that marrying him was a mistake. The second time we made a plan & the closer we got to the planned date, the more I panicked. Were we ready? Were we skipping steps? Too fast? Too slow? Do we really have to have a wedding where people will quietly judge me for being married twice? Can’t we just stay in the place we are in the relationship & just remain, because the person was right, but the timing of the engagement plan is all wrong. Maybe I just haven’t met the right person & that’s why it freaked me out. Or, I self sabotage. Whatever.
I’ve often wondered if I fail being a girl because there is no dream ring, dream wedding on Pinterest. I know my limitations & commitment is one of them. I’d either need to be engaged for a million years or one day, where the person I love shows up @ my door & tells me that no matter how much of a mess the rest of life, our relationship might be, loving me is the right thing & we just elope that day. Maybe that’s the key to relationships; keeping everyone else out, which is my big beef about these elaborate proposals. I’ve learned that sometimes, well intentioned friends & family members will butt in to your relationship when times aren’t pretty & it’s up to the two of you to keep them out, because then your relationship becomes the source of third party gossip, with someone else’s hyperbole & is usually completely wrong. Ignore them, talk to each other. You’re killing the trust by listening to your friends & family (or theirs!) over your partner. It’s okay to talk to someone for advice, but I’ve learned you need to limit that too. So, by inviting them all to your choreographed, Bruno Mars lipsynched proposal, you’ve invited them to be part of your relationship. While it’s sweet that you want to share that moment, the choice to make a lifetime commitment should be a private one, the celebration (the wedding) can involve family. When my marriage was falling apart, I had so many people offer me advice because “I was at your wedding,” so obviously they knew how to fix it. Generally, when I’m fixating, I just want a sounding board. I don’t want advice from the peanut gallery, as it makes my mind more jumbled.
I think I’m more like another Glee character, Emma Schuester (nee Pillsbury), who just cannot handle the pressure of a big, public commitment & giant wedding. The actual choice to share my life with someone will always freak me out, even if it feels like the right person. Emma jilted her fiancé Will because the wedding & the choice freaked her out & they went back to dating. They later wed in the choir room, with only their students present. And while it might seem lame to most, the idea of myself & my partner (& the legally required two witnesses) being the only ones present when we make a commitment (after I’ve breathed in the bag) sounds better than all of the flash mobs, dance numbers & Beatles covers in the world.
I’m cool with it. I don’t feel shame. After the tumultuous life I’ve lived, I need guidance on how to love myself. I struggle, but I’m getting there. However, sometimes something that’s said sticks out & I weigh it out @ 3am listening to Ron Pope.
This week’s problem; why I do not cry.
That’s not true; I cry when I’m frustrated & don’t know how to express my point. I cry when my favourite characters die in The Hunger Games. I cry when I fail a test. I cried at the end of Final Fantasy X. I cry in every moment in life, except when I should cry.
When my dad died, I barely cried. I did for a minute, but then I didn’t. When I left my beloved kitten in an alley to go to the homeless shelter, I didn’t cry. When I moved to the foster home, I got mad, but I didn’t cry. When I lost my oldest child, when I was raped, when I walked out of my marriage; I did not shed a single tear. I stood there, rigid, back straight & rationalized it all away. I cried tears of frustration and anger, but I never mourned for the marriage. I just rationalized all of it away like I have since I was a small child. Cancer kills people. Mommy has no money & bad things happen here. I’m a 21 year old girl who has no idea how to raise a child and lives with her rapist. These actions have consequences & I wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of crying. So I didn’t. I stood tall & held it in & was labelled strong. Good for me.
Then one day, after I was dealt a loss & my heart was broken, I went by the river, the place I always go & I cried. I bawled. I cried until I threw up. I cried until I couldn’t even cry tears anymore. I cried until I literally could not cry anymore…& for months, I kept on crying.
Was this the most traumatic thing I ever lived through? Nope, not even close. Was I crying decades of tears that I never shed? Was I like the chipped windshield that finally cracked from the pebble? When my best friend & I had a falling out, I didn’t shed a single tear. I embraced my anger, oh I HATED him. I rationalized it made sense; he was dishonest & I was a broken human being. I was a bad friend because I was weak. He deserved better & so did I. But I didn’t cry. I simply walked along, thinking he’s a great person, but I wasn’t always good to him nor he to me & I needed to carry on so I could be the superhuman person I’m meant to be. Sometimes, now that I’m not angry, I miss him. I don’t hate him anymore, because it’s not who I am. I am a person who prefers to be positive, not negative and I refuse to give people power over me to hurt me.
So I asked my counsellor why was I able to summon the strength to get through the worst of times, but during the one two punch, I broke down. Why did I break? She asked me the question that’s bugged me:
“Could it be you always expected to lose everything else, but you didn’t expect this?”
Maybe she’s right. All of my life I’ve waited for the shoe to drop. I always rationalized bad stuff away, but for once, I honestly didn’t understand & much like Sandra Bullock said; “Painfully, you learn quickly in life that sometimes there are no answers.”
I truly believed with all that I was that I couldn’t lose that thing that I loved so much & meant so much to me but (much like I am not worthy to be my children’s mother & I work to earn that honour every day) I did not deserve. It couldn’t happen. I would have bet my life on it. This thing, that was so good, I couldn’t lose this time. I’ve lost every prominent male in my life, including my only male child, but this time, I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t lose my living Tal Bachman song. I couldn’t screw it up because it was too good and the right thing. This was just how it was supposed to be & we’d get the ending right eventually. I refused to see the shoe. I wouldn’t see the shoe. Then I got smacked with the shoe & for the first time in my life, I surveyed the mess around me; the college course I hated, the two dear friends I’d burdened, my heartbroken girls & the loss that cut me to my core & didn’t care what anyone thought, who got satisfaction, I broke. But maybe we all need to break to realize who we are. I’m still strong. I’m still me. By putting myself back together, I learned I could do it. I can be in control & I won’t eff it all up…much. I can still be the positive beacon, just smarter. I may not have everything I want out of life; I miss some close friends & I will likely always be on my own waiting for Superman but I have a great life. I’m raising my three girls completely on my own with no financial help and minimal parental support from their father, and they are thriving, with good grades and advanced developmental skills. They are gentle and loving and that’s because of my influence. I’m good @ my job & I’m pretty good @ this writing thing. Maybe I’m not going to have happily ever after in the conventional sense, but I have my girls & my goals & I put my broken self back together on my own & no one can take any of that from me. For the first time in my entire life, I am 100% in control of my life, my choices, with no one to second guess me or take credit for what I do well and I’m doing just fine.
I don’t want to spend my life looking for the shoe, which for the most part, I have always done. I also can’t bottle up pain anymore. I need to find the middle ground & as I phase into the next chapter of my crazy life (another impulsive decision), it’s what I’ll figure out. I’ll stand tall in adversity and cry when I’m hurting. I’ll be less oak tree & more willow tree.
Maybe that’s part of life. Maybe we need to break sometimes. Maybe we need to be utterly destroyed so we can rise like the Phoenix from the ashes & build ourselves back up into something better. We can appreciate what we truly want out of life when it’s all been taken from us. Would I be the mom I am if I hadn’t had to literally earn the right to be one? Would my work ethic be what it is had I not had to fight for what I have? Who knows? But perhaps we need to break to learn to bend. So I’ll bend & I’ll continue on my life’s journey.
The Misadventures of MHC 