Confessions of a Judgey McJudgerson: Relationship status

I sat at this table eating this marvelous white cupcake. It had crunchy on the outside but soft melt in your mouth butter-cream frosting. Peeling the wrapper back a little more and stuffing another bite into my mouth I thought,

This is never going to last.

Everyone has known a couple like this.  There were countless stories of domestic incidents. One specifically unique to this couple, the bride threw a brick through the groom’s car windshield. Two wild fires catching each other to form a storm of volatile craziness.  I often suspect that these types of couples have super hot sex lives but that doesn’t make a marriage last, or does it?

I smiled sipping my vodka tonic, looking over at my then beau of 3 years. We had it pretty good, didn’t we? We had this great apartment in the city. We had both gotten new and improved jobs recently. I was considering going back to school and he was working a side job as a trainer at a gym. He made me laugh and we were in love. Life was good.

The relationship ended that following spring and I went on with my life.   That’s been nearly three years ago.  I’ve been doing some purging and spring cleaning in several areas, including my closet and my email.  So very clearly, through my emails and chats with my ex lover, we weren’t happy at all.  There was nothing even remotely passionate about that relationship.  At the time, when things ended so bitterly, I was devastated.  I couldn’t even understand where things had went so terribly wrong. We had it pretty good hadn’t we?  And to everyone else maybe it seemed that way too.  Friends and family were somewhat shocked.

Things get super weird when you see them through rose-colored glasses.

I think when I entered that relationship, for the first time in my entire life, I was ready for something bigger than myself. Because I wanted it so bad, I made it so in my head.

Living in a world without those glasses and off my high horse has done miracles for me.  Failure of a relationship doesn’t have to mean you were a fool.

Hanging out here without my riding boots has helped me see love on the inside and not what we see at face value. I don’t condone abusive relationships.  I’m saying sometimes it’s good for a mismatch to be a match.   People go through some shit- sometimes those times of grief and loss make couple who they are and prepare them for what lies ahead of them.

No relationship is perfect. Even the relationship that looks like they have it all, doesn’t. And those that are a crazy wildfire they might just be a good mix of what it takes to succeed in the long run.

I’m working on being non-judgmental in other aspects of my life also.  It’s easier said than done though when taking a stroll through my neighborhood Walmart or when I see people bringing their babies into bars.  Maybe that part of me will remain snotty.  We wear pink on Wednesdays.

Conversation heart: Love Everyday

I’ve been called a cynic, jaded and frigid because of my lack of enthusiasm over Valentine’s day.

Here’s the quick and dirty:

 Love should be celebrated every day.

Why would you wait for one day a year to show someone how much you care, admire, and adore them? Real love doesn’t come in the form of expensive chocolates, overpriced half dead flowers, or even lavish jewelry. I’m really not just saying that either.  Over the years, boyfriends have gotten me nice gifts and taken me to romantic dinners. Here’s a little secret:

I don’t remember any of it.

I really don’t recall a Valentine’s day that lived up to the hype. The romance novel, perfect romantic comedy, amazing all-encompassing Valentine’s day. It’s not for lack of being in love with someone. I can’t even blame it on having crappy boyfriends or not having a boyfriend at all. I just think it’s a sold fairy-tale and we all buy into it. Waiting in line 2 hours for the most romantic dinner or getting a huge bouquet of flowers on the same day as everyone else- how on earth is that anything miraculous?

The crazy thing about love is that it just happens. You can’t buy it. It can’t be bottled into just one Hallmark holiday. The parts of my life that are a romantic comedy, that are that sultry romance novel, weren’t planned or even expected.  They just happened.

A snow storm that left us hulled up in a tiny studio apartment for two days. We lounged around and made love. I had never been so incredibly happy in my entire life just laying there watching him watch the snow.

We took his car down to the airfield, drank wine, and made out. Security knocked on the window and I had to walk out in nothing but his button down and talk us out of trouble. After talking to the guard I climbed back into the car and we made our getaway. That was the craziest thing I had done in a long time. It felt so nice to have someone just as crazy along for the ride.

On our 2nd date he played the guitar and sang for me. I couldn’t stop thinking how incredibly beautiful he was with that acoustic guitar. That voice still gives me goosebumps on any given day.

He got drunk and jumped on top of the bar and screamed my full name and professed his undying love for me to strangers and friends.  When he jumped down he toppled into me and sent both of us to the floor.  I laughed so hard I though my sides might burst.  I couldn’t be more in love than I was at that moment.

Standing in my kitchen with nothing but his underwear on making me eggs. His hair was sticking out all over like a little kid. I was there watching him without him noticing. He was humming and kind of dancing around. I could wake up to that sight every morning. The eggs were as amazing as he was.

We were sitting in his apartment with all these CD’s just lining the walls.  He’d put on music I’d never heard and we’d make out for hours.  It was on a rainy afternoon with him that I heard Miles Davis for the first time.

I was so nervous so I drank almost half a bottle of wine- we’d been taking turns changing the radio. He danced with me slowly in the kitchen.  I knew then I’d love him for the rest of my life.

We are laying in bed and I am just listening to him snore. He sounds like a lion sometimes.  Then I think to myself, ‘My lion..’ and smile as I go back to sleep.

These moments are mini snapshots of the last decade of my love life.  Not a single moment happened on Valentine’s day and none of them had to do with extravagant gifts.  In 10 years I have forgotten, lost or trashed the jewelry, dried flowers, and cards. The romances may have moved on or may have even ended bitterly. The memories will keep me in perpetual state of love.  I’m reminded that I’ve been loved, I am loved, and I do love. Anyway you slice it, I’m in love. Why would I want to celebrate that just once a year?

Fall in love everyday.

It’s such a beautiful thing. Why not do it each day when you wake up?  No matter if you have someone or you don’t. You’ve loved and you are loved. And it has nothing to do with a greeting card.

I had a girlfriend tell me she’s never had the ‘true Valentine’s day’ and that’s why she wants to celebrate.  I don’t even know what that means? You’ve never gotten flowers or taken out to dinner? I think if you look at it differently, you’ve had a Valentine’s day. If you’ve ever had that sweet moment when you are waiting for someone to say they love you for the first time and you end up saying it first because you can’t take it anymore.  A first kiss or late night laughter. Removing the middle arm at the movies during a first or second date. That older couple at the grocery store holding hands.  The brave but crazy first attempt of asking someone on a date.  A good morning or I love you text. The first time trying to kiss with glasses on and your glasses get stuck all together or all fogged up. A pick me up hug after a long day.

Those things are Valentine’s day.

Let’s celebrate Valentine’s day every day this year.  Give more hugs, kisses, and tell our loved ones how much they mean to us.  Let romantic moments happen without being forced with candy and roses.

Growing up the Anti-Christ: An open letter to my conservative Christian parents

Every time religion is mentioned between us, I prepare myself for a battle that ends in heartbreak and loss. Your heart breaks because I am not the same as you. You feel like failures as parents, to your church, maybe even to Christ.  I feel like a failure because I can’t force myself to walk the same path.  It’s devastating knowing I hurt you so much by being myself and different.

I am always wrong.  You are always right.

You are always wrong. I am always right.

I am always going to hell. You are always afraid.

You are just ridiculous. I’m not afraid of something I don’t believe in.

It’s something you are so passionate about that I never seem to know how to explain myself or my beliefs without you getting offended to the point of anger. My intentions are not to anger.  I only want acceptance and tolerance. I think it’s safe to say, at 31 years of age, this isn’t teenage rebellion.  I’m not Christian. Nor will I ever be.  This isn’t a phase or something I’m trying out.  This is my spiritual path that I have chosen. It is no different from you dedicating yourself to Christ.

While I know much about your faith and your path, you never seem to give pause to think of mine. You’ve never even asked what being Agnostic is, or what it means to me, without turning into some grand Kitchen Sink of an argument.

A great debate should be an educated one.

The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines Agnostic:a person who holds the view that any ultimate reality (as God) is unknown and probably unknowable broadly :  one who is not committed to believing in either the existence or the nonexistence of God or a god.

Personally? It means I’m not sure if there is a God. If there is- the concept is too awesome for human beings to fully understand.

 

 

But if you don’t believe you are going to hell. I’m worried about your damnation.

This response always makes me cringe a little. The tactic is a little old. It’s always the same response. I don’t believe in hell so it doesn’t scare me into believing in Christianity. Being agnostic doesn’t mean I’m some kind of degenerate. I pay taxes. I have a full-time job. I’m an active member of society and my community. I recycle. I have a rescue cat. I’ll give my friends the shirt off my back if they need it. I smile at strangers and hold the door for old ladies.  I say ‘fuck’ sometimes and I lie about my diet and how hard I worked out on any given day. I gossip occasionally and have had sex. But I don’t just sit around thinking, “How can I be evil today?”

I’m sure if there is a hell, it’s reserved for people who are much worse than I am. Start with Charles Manson and child rapists.

 

 

But if you repent your sins and accept Jesus into your heart, you’ll go to heaven. Even Charles Manson can go to heaven.

Again with this- same material over and over again. I don’t believe in heaven either. And if Charles Mason is there, I don’t really think it’s a place I want to go.

 

 

This is just a cop-out. It’s easier to just say “You don’t believe” and not go to church on Sundays.

I believe it’s quite the opposite for people like myself.  I think it’d be much easier to sin Saturday nights, and go to church on Sundays and have my conscience clean when I walk out.  I think it’d be much easier, less combative, to just believe like everyone else. To have without a doubt, there is in fact God and when I die there is this awesome afterlife in the sky.

 

I live life as this is my one shot here. I only have this one life to be good and to do good. There is no get out of jail free card. This is my only chance to leave this place better that what it was when I came into it.

 

I live life for all it has to offer. I think it’s a lot like that orange juice slogan: Put good in, get good out. If I do hurt someone, or do something unjust, I have to take accountability for it. I can’t just “give it all to God” and unburden myself.  I have to make wrongs right, forgive myself, and allow others to forgive me.  

 

 

But where do you think those morals come from? You learned them from church and the Bible.

I think they come from great parents and from the human spirit.  You really think that non-Christians walk around their whole lives, stealing from each-other and treating others unkind? When you treat another person terribly, you feel terrible. I think it’s part of how we are wired. An evolutionary trait that keeps us alive. We aren’t meant to kill each other. We aren’t meant to be assholes. Think about the people in your life that are terrible to other people. They live a pretty miserable existence, right?

 

 

You are depressed, have money problems, have dating/relationship problems, are discontent, aren’t successful or any other problem: because you don’t believe in God and are living a hopeless life. You have NO HOPE.

For once as an adult, I’d like to come to you without this being your candid response.  Even if I was Christian- I would still have problems. I would still have joy. That is life.  

Depression is a real thing. It’s not something that is caused by a lack of faith in God.  I went through some of my depression thinking that I was such a useless person because I couldn’t bring myself to believe in something everyone else does.  The understanding and acceptance of mental illness is a huge problem in this country. We’ve really got to stop telling people, “Just go to church” when really they need therapy and possibly medication. Mediation, prayer, and support of a church can help but don’t use that as your ultimate answer. Going into a place of worship for someone like myself is hypocritical. A better answer to my problem was: Go get some therapy and get help. Volunteer and start picking yourself back up by empowering others.

I might be unsure if there is a God or not- but I am sure that the human spirit is alive and does exist.  A group of internet strangers came together to give a woman with cancer and her family a memorable Christmas. A guy from my high school and a group of friends created an organization that raises awareness for local art while raising money for cancer. There is a girl in my neighborhood that runs with prosthetic legs every morning. The men I see at the shelter that have lost everything, homes, jobs, and their family- and still keep striving to exist and make something of themselves. My ever talented friends, from photographers to musicians, showing the world through their passions. You, my parents, giving a family a lawn mower that couldn’t afford one, helping the elderly neighbors, and loaning a childhood friend’s parents money for medical bills that you never got back. All because it was the right thing to do. You and all these others are my hope.

You shouldn’t be ashamed or feel like you failed with me.

I am part of the reason the future will be better.

Being agnostic allows me to be more open-minded and tolerant. I see beauty and wonder in others and their spirituality. I listen to Muslim, Catholic, Jehovah’s Witness, Baptist, Jewish, Buddhist, or Hindu conversations without judgement or bias. You say that you do not judge- but you have told me that Jehovah’s Witnesses are a cult and that all Muslims are wrong and are damned.  I think they show just as much devoutness as you do in your own faith. Who are you or I to judge in such a way? I am undeniably curious about religions. There are so many parallels that cross over- it’s hard for me to imagine that only one is correct.

Maybe if there are more people like me, there would be less fighting over who is right and who is wrong.  It would just be a personal choice and that choice would be accepted.  Wars wouldn’t be waged.  Racial profiling about Muslims all being terrorists would stop. 

 

 

But you are judgmental and bias against the Christian faith. 

This might be the only point that ever strikes home with me. It’s something I am working on.  It’s hard because I grew up in the Christian church. It was really the only religion I was ever continuously exposed to.  I saw all the damage that was behind the scenes. I saw the hypocrisy, the politics, and the hate that comes along with organized religion. I think the idea of God is pure. Human beings are what has ruined God.  Men have used religion for selfish gain.  Politicians are a great example of this. I’m also skeptical of any religious texts. They were written by man. I have a hard time believing absolutely no ulterior motives were involved in the transcription from God’s mouth and all the translations in all the world. It’s also curious to me that the literal translation of some texts are taken seriously in some matters and others are ignored. Pick and choose religion. 

It also seems out of my diverse group of friends, the Christian believers seem to be the biggest offenders of bigotry and intolerance.  Not once in several years of friendship have any of my devout Muslim or Hindu friends said one negative word against the Christian faith. They also have never forcefully damned me for being a non believer. I am not as naive to believe intolerance does not exist here, passions run deep, but it seems by their actions they are a much more forgiving of differences. That forgiveness is something I’ve often heard spoken in a church pew only to hear something derogatory at the Sunday dinner table. 

Not all my experiences have been negative. I do have great friends in the Christian community that are good people who live life as Christ would and not as other Christians do. I’ll do well to remember that. There are beautiful things about the Christian faith that I still enjoy.  Christmas music in particular. We Three Kings, a song about the birth of Jesus, is still one of my favorite songs.  The birth of Jesus is actually one of my favorite stories. I remember thinking even as a kid that it was such a magical story. A story of wonderment and excitement. The Catedral Metropolitana in Buenos Aires, might be one of the most beautiful and sacred places I have ever been. I had goosebumps the entire time I was there- we went through most of the cathedral without speaking. It just didn’t seem like a place you should talk. There is something ethereal about a place that wills you not to speak.  

 

 

I just want our dinner conversations to be less heated. I want to come to you without your faith driving you to change my mind about my faith. I am spiritual. I do have hope. I do have ground to stand on. It’s just different from yours. This doesn’t make me eternally damned or a sad example of your parenting gone wrong. I’m a great example of the incredible people you are. You raised a happy, independent, free-thinking, earth-shaking, innovative woman.  I’m not any less perfect than your other children that decide to follow Christ nor am I any greater.  We are just different. And that’s okay.

Do you think we can move forward? Try to accept each other and our differences? Can we have a conversation without you telling me all my problems are faith-based? Can we go one Sunday without you getting upset about my absence in your church pew? Can you accept this is a personal choice?  Can you for once be open to the fact that not everyone that isn’t like you is wrong? Because I feel like if we could move past this, we might grow to have a more fulfilling relationship. Arguing about our faith interrupts our time we spend together. It is unproductive. Show me your faith and the beauty of being a Christian, instead of trying to beat me over the head with a Bible all the time.