On 33: Sylvia Plath, engaged, and still hates oatmeal.

Last weekend I was asked how old I was and I said, “Well almost 34..” and she replied, “Oh good. That gives me hope.”

I think what bothered me the most was that she was talking about my engagement, not about what I grew into being. Working on that being was how I was ready for the right guy in the first place. If I am even honest with myself, he caught me right at the end of one being and at the beginning of another. While no one makes you do anything, the best partners are the ones that let you shine, encourage you, and grow with you.

We moved in together last year. I was unhappy about the move because I was moving into his already made home. I wanted a place the two of us picked together. After a few weeks of exhaustive searching, we decided the most economical idea would be to keep his loft. I gave away a few of my things and moved the rest into what I considered a cold, drafty industrial loft. We had the first real fights of our relationship. Dishes, chores, money, and all of my stuff, his stuff.

But really the fights weren’t about that. I think they were more about me being afraid. Afraid this was going to hurt and it’d probably hurt a lot.  I had spent months writing him bits from Sylvia Plath’s Mad Girl’s Love Song and shoving them in his work bag.

(I think I made you up inside my head.)

He literally wouldn’t go away. He was there when I got home from work and he was there in the morning when I woke up.

How crazy is it when the stars align just right? I had just finished my first semester back at school. He supports my crazy schedule, my stress levels, and forever questions if I am taking enough time for myself.

We spent Christmas in Nashville. We watched all the original Star Wars movies because I am on the only person on the planet who has never watched them. We spent Christmas day in the hospital because his mom had a stroke. It was a sweet Christmas with family and I cried when we drove home. I didn’t eat sugar for a month.

I took American literature and fell in love with Emerson, Thoreau, and Emily Dickinson.

The next great influence into the spirit of the scholar, is, the mind of the Past, — in whatever form, whether of literature, of art, of institutions, that mind is inscribed. Books are the best type of the influence of the past, and perhaps we shall get at the truth, — learn the amount of this influence more conveniently, — by considering their value alone.

African American literature gave me Hurston, DuBois, and Marcus Garvey.

….Mr. Washington’s programm naturally takes an economic cast, becoming a gospel of Work and Money to such an extent as apparently almost completely to overshadow the higher aims of life.

I created my first lesson plans and learned how to make a podcast.

Poetry Explication Podcast-Robert Frost

I discovered that I am a constructivist. I believe people learn by viewing and reflecting upon experiences through their personal lens.  It seems nearly impossible to read a piece of literature and not develop opinions and ideas of our own and create connections to our own experiences.

I learned literacy is a problem. I learned about Paulo Freire and his Pedagogy of the Oppressed

The more radical the person is, the more fully he or she enters into reality so that, knowing it better, he or she can transform it. This individual is not afraid to confront, to listen, to see the world unveiled. This person is not afraid to meet the people or to enter into a dialogue with them. This person does not consider himself or herself the proprietor of history or of all people, or the liberator of the oppressed; but he or she does commit himself or herself, within history, to fight at their side.

I got goosebumps the first day of of my Adolescent Literature course because there is no doubt this is where I am suppose to be.

A sweet note to my future self because I know there will be days when you will forget: You won’t always be the best, you won’t always connect, and you won’t always get it right the first time. But just remember why you started this and remember what it was like to fall in love with a book for the first time. 

In May, his best friend and I threw what was suppose to be a surprise birthday party for him and it became our engagement party.  He double crossed me in the sweetest way.

He bought me a new dress and new perfume that day. He even picked a fight with me that morning so would be thrown off. We had dinner and he refused to take off his jacket. Neither of us ate very much. When we got back to the house, we toasted with friends and at the bottom of a glass was a shiny diamond ring. I laughed and cried, kissed and hugged. My heart has never been so close to nearly bursting.

Now we have started talking money, a house, school for both of us, careers and daydreams of two (or maybe three) kids. Serious talks about baggage, letting things go, secrets that never needed to be because they don’t matter anyway. Tears and forgiveness- of ourselves and each other.

A fun party is exciting. A big cake that I’ve dreamed about and all our friends and family. But wedding planning is just a detail. This is already a done deal.

I still run a book club with some old and new friends. They will never know how much our meetings mean to me. I look forward to them every month. It always brings home how important these relationships are to me. I am surrounded by intelligent, funny, driven, and wonderful women.

I don’t take as much time as I should for myself. I’ll work on that.(I say every year).

For the girl who said I give her hope: I wouldn’t trade a single moment of the time I spent getting here to be engaged or married sooner. I would have married the wrong guy, at the wrong time, for the wrong reasons. I wouldn’t be the woman he wanted to marry. And I wouldn’t be the woman that is going to shape the world someday.

I have grown older another year. I still want my mom when I am sick and I still hate oatmeal. But overall 33 has been a good year. I’ve found happiness and purpose suit me.

On 32: Cancer, wrinkle cream, mourning the loss of friendship, adulting in relationships, and mental health mornings.

This time last year, a few days after my 32nd birthday I went to have a mammogram done because they found a curious lump in my right breast. After the technician assured me it was probably nothing a handsome young doctor entered my exam room and explained he’d like to do a biopsy on the lump because it appeared to be in a milk duct (most breast cancers start here). I think I was too stunned to really ask questions, I just nodded, took my referral paper and made my appointment at the desk. I proceed to the parking lot and immediately crumpled when I reached my car safely. Jesus Christ. What if I have cancer? I’m only 32 years old. I don’t even have kids yet. What am I going to tell my friends and family? This could kill me. This very thing that holds part of my identity, my breast, could kill me. 

After the biopsy was done a few weeks later, the tumor in my breast was found to be benign but the doctor suggested I have it removed anyway. I met with a surgeon shortly after to discuss removing my lump, which my sister affectionately named Pamela. I sat topless with my arms raised above my head as my surgeon and her two interns examined my right breast.  While feeling like I was some kind of living sculpture on display for museum guests, I nervously joked if she could add a tube sock or some tissue paper in while she was in there removing Pamela it would make my bikini top fit better next summer. My surgeon simply smiled and said I was perfect the way I was. Despite her reassurance, I love my body but I was rather angry with it at that moment. This was the first time in my entire life, I felt like it was possible that I could and would die someday. Joking about tube socks and breast implants were my way of dealing with this underlying thought that I might die- how very strange that we don’t realize our own mortality until we are sitting in the hot seat being questioned about everything from our diet to our genetic history. The paperwork sent over from the hospital was 20 pages of forms and questions- 20 pages of questions about personal information that I, myself, didn’t even have answers to. You are left calling your parents asking them about weird diseases, cysts, and other conditions.

My 32nd year started off recognizing my own mortality made me put some things in perspective. I have been burnt out and over my job for a long time. I started proceedings this year to go back to school and obtain an education degree.  I think I would have been a terrible teacher at 24, but at 34, I think this is the right place for me to be. I’m enjoying school and find it engaging intellectually in ways I have missed.

This also marks the year I started using wrinkle cream consistently.  Mortality staring you literally in the face will make you consider your own vanity like it or not.

This has been a year of personal growth, in more than one way.  I stopped writing publicly sometime in May. I lost a best friend to an alcohol dependency and my own codependency. I have found this event to be life changing and extremely painful for both people.  It has probably been one of  my more defining moments and has shaken me to my core. Through Al Anon, therapy and self introspection I’ve found myself on the other side of this loss. While my friend is not dead but I have chosen to abstain from the relationship.  Detaching myself from her, from her disease, and recognizing my own disease has been an incredibly heartbreaking experience.  I lost weight and subsequently lost my hair due to stress from grief.  Not only did it transform my heart, but the experience in some ways transformed my physical being. I still struggle at this time with feelings of self esteem due to my hair loss.

I miss my friend. I think of her often. I recognize so much of myself in her own faults and disease, such a strange parallel that often isn’t discussed in Al Anon literature. I am at the end of the day, just as flawed as the alcoholic in my life. I work on ‘a day at at time’ philosophy these days.  I’m working hard at disregarding my judgement of others and recognizing that each day I’m working towards a more enlightened existence.

I’ve recently made a huge decision to move in with my boyfriend. This hasn’t been exactly the easiest transition in my life as I’m sure it isn’t for him either. Despite all my self work, how much time I’ve spent rebuilding my sense of self and self worth. All it has taken is this move to semi-commitment with another person to shatter bits of myself I thought I had fortified. It is interesting to me that the right person, even with all their reassurances, kind words, and understanding, can’t help you maintain what it is you thought you had a grasp on.  Somehow this makes the self work harder, maybe it’s because there is this other person involved, literally scrutinizing all of your naked and raw bits. Vulnerability hasn’t always been one of my strong suits. It is so damn hard to let people see how scared and frightened you are. While I understand that vulnerability strengthen bonds between others and it increases safety within relationships- it does not make the fact that letting your complete curtain down any easier. Transparency isn’t always the best mode of self preservation.    But at some point this isn’t about the self, is it? It’s about those around you.

Looking forward, it excites me of the possibilities to come. There are times in my life I’m so insanely happy it hurts.  And then I have this pang of regret and remorse, because the one person I wish I could call, I can’t. No one ever talks about what to do if you remove yourself from this friendship before they get sober. I’m just sitting over here waiting for the day when she is here drinking lemonade and talking about wedding dresses….and how I promise I won’t make her wear an ugly bride’s maid dress. And how someday soon, I’d share the same position on whether she should spend the extra money to have her legs and a full Brazilian wax the week before her own wedding. I miss her independence, her free spirit, her laughter and wicked sense of humor. I miss her taste in music and how she would make me completely envious of her perfect eye makeup. I miss, most of all, being able to tell her about my day and hearing about hers.

Notice I said before she gets sober? I think it’s because I used to give myself the two options, she dies or she gets sober. At the end of it all I still choose to be in her corner. I believe she will be sitting here drinking lemonade.

My mother says she can’t understand the friendship. I think for those of us lucky enough to be involved with addicts, the friendship is more because of how much we’ve grown and learned about ourselves because of it. I think choosing to love an addict has made me more humble, forgiving, and full of hope.

As for my other friendships, I realizing just how important female friendships are.  I’m recognizing each day, how much I miss having a best friend, and how exciting it will be when I make a new one. It’s a little like dating. As my partner has said, it’s not about replacing her, this is about moving on and growing.  I think just like any break-up, it’ll be awhile before I’m completely over this loss. Sociologists state you need 3 things to develop friendship, proximity, repeated planned/unplanned interactions, and the ability to confide in each other. I can handle the first two at the moment, I’m working on trusting others enough to confide in them.

Trust is something I’m setting a goal for in my 33rd year. My romantic relationship has suffered as of late because of my unwillingness to let go and embrace someone’s intentions. Not everyone on this planet is here to break your heart. I’m also going to make it a goal to set aside more time for myself. I started this thing a few months ago that I’ve lost sight of, Mental Health Mornings.  I basically turn the phone off, the computer off, and read, write and enjoy some moments of creative introspective bliss. It’s also an excuse to eat french toast during the week and a good cup of coffee.

How to love a Fireball

My grandfather always had this saying,

Busy as a bee in hot skillet

The birthday card from my parents this last year said something about ‘dynamite in a dress’.  I’m passionate and intense.  I’ve been called stubborn, over zealous, high energy, hot headed, hyperactive, sassy and forward.  I roar my discontentment and I boldly speak my opinion. I’ll listen to yours but rarely compromise.  We’ll probably agree to disagree at the end of the day. When it comes to love, I’ll love ferociously.  I’ll uphold promises and commitments. I have a high disdain injustice or the absence of morality. I’ll tear a liar to shreds while his pants are burning to a crisp. We can talk for hours about the state of the world, religion, your old lover’s shortcomings, or how whoever changed the green Skittle from lime to green apple should be tortured to death.

I am a Fireball.

I think sometimes people read my blunt, passionate nature as bitchy or even intimidating.  I think men especially don’t know what to do with women of my breed.  All that passion and strength is intriguing and exciting.  It also can get a little crazy and too hot in the kitchen if you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into. If women came with instruction manuals they’d need constant revision and be probably longer than any U.S. Highway.  That being said, here’s a very mini road-map to loving your Fireball:

 

1. Productiveness is to Godliness.

Because Fireballs are so high energy we have this expectation that things should be done and they should be done NOW.  Because that’s when we’d do them.  When your Fireball asks you to take out the trash, she means RIGHT NOW.  I find myself getting annoyed with partners that move at a snail’s pace.  If you’re a Snail paired with a Fireball, there can be a happy medium because she does need someone to remind her to just simmer sometimes.  However, this is one of those things you need to pick your battles.  If it’s something simple like a chore that can be done sooner rather than later, my suggestion is to do it.

2.  Change happens but YOU aren’t going to change her and if you try she will probably turn into a time bomb.

Note: You should never go into a relationship thinking you’ll make someone better or change their attitude about something. You are what you bring to the table and you change yourself no one does that for you and you can’t do that for someone else.

So I dated this guy for a long time that hated how I dressed and he didn’t like how boisterous I could be at times. I don’t know why but I felt like I could tone it back a little for my partner.  But what I was really doing was just losing myself and the things that made me who I am.  You should love your Fireball for all she is- even the burnt parts that are kind of ugly.  Those ugly scarred parts are what make her so passionate in the first place.  At some point something set her ablaze and she never stopped being on fire.  When you tell her to “tone it down” that’s like telling her to put her fire out and keeping up with that type of nonsense will put out her fire. You’ll end up with a shell of a girl you loved. Shells can be dangerous.  They have empty room to store all that bottled up fuel we haven’t used. Gasoline that is just waiting for a light- like that one time you don’t take out the trash or say something nice to the cute check out girl at Costco in front of us.

3. When burn out happens, urge recharge and encourage refueling.

Even the Energizer Bunny loses steam at some point.  A huge sign of a true Fireball is that she doesn’t know when to quit.  You practically have to feed her sedatives to get her to sit still.  I’m just a huge blur in the majority of my brother’s wedding photos- always jumping around like I’m in a bounce house 24/7.   Doesn’t just apply to having fun either- sometimes life is emotionally, mentally, and physically draining but we just keep going.  A lover of a Fireball should be aware enough to pour her a glass of wine and scoop her up until her ass calms down. Turn her phone off and draw her a bath.  If she’s lost her smile, has become too serious or works too much, remind her life is all about actually living by taking her to a jazz club or her favorite live music venue.  She’ll love you to the moon and back for recognizing the things she’s lost sight of.  Healthy distraction and a little TLC go a long way.

4. Taking accountability and handling an argument without getting burned.

I think a great couple is one in which both people hold each other accountable.  It’s checks and balances.  This is especially important when you’ve fallen for a Fireball.  Our impetuous nature leads us to jump to conclusions and sometimes overreact.  I’ve legitimately sat through an entire dinner conversation quietly fuming over something I misheard from my partner only to explode in the car on the way home, making a giant ass out of myself.  Apologies are given but with reluctance at times.  That fire is burning a little hot at the end of an argument.  It’s best to let your Fireball cool off before true acknowledgement of wrongfulness or forgiveness can be reached. If that means she needs to go in the other room and read for awhile, then that’s what she needs to do. If she’s wrong she’ll come to you with an open full apology after she’s had time to get the red out of her eyes.  If you’ve crossed her, be ready to not only say sorry but also take accountability for the mistake.  We don’t like excuses and we need you to make it right.  We need you to rectify whatever it is right now not next week or 10 years from now. Probably be wise not to do whatever it is that made her so pissed again either if you’d like to continue walking around with all of your limbs. Jokes but seriously she will turn into a firestorm if you’ve worked through an issue but it continues to happen after the fact.

5. Be stronger than we are.

I have had complaints in the past about partners not being able to cut it or not able to hustle with my hustle.  One of my fabulous friends coined it best, “You need someone as strong or stronger than you are.”  A Fireball will railroad or get totally bored with a guy that just can’t keep up.  When I asked an old boyfriend once about why he didn’t speak up sooner about issues he had with me for over a year, he just said, “It’s really hard to say no to you.” This is what I’m saying, total railroad all up in your face. We can hold it down but sometimes we need someone to hold us down and ground us.  We like active people, passiveness just doesn’t fly. We like doers verses complainers. If you tell me you hate your job seven days a week, you should be making moves to make a change in that attitude. Aggressiveness can even be fun in the right context.  Too much tequila and we might get lippy, making out is an excellent way to shut us up.  Think Mr. and Mrs. Smith just try not to demolish the house.

 

Bank Accounts.

Some of the best advice I’ve ever received was from a good friend of mine to always think about my relationships, romantic or otherwise, as bank accounts.

You’ve got to put money into a bank account to make a withdraw and if you continue to withdraw without replenishing funds you’ll overdraw your account. We’ve got to invest time and energy into our relationships to make them worth their weight in gold. I don’t think my friend meant that we should keep a running tally of our deeds in the relationship.  “Last week I bought Sally a gift.  This week she didn’t say anything nice about my new hair style or come to my dinner party. What a bitch! I just don’t think I can be friends with her anymore.”  I think really we just need to be mindful of how we “spend” the funds within our relationships a how we can replenish them.

I also like using this theory as a guide to know what relationships we need to invest more time in and what relationships are just taken as a loss. There is always going to be someone taking or someone giving more.  A friendship or romantic interest should be symbiotic. I think there are different levels to our bank accounts.  When we talk about people we have been friends with for years, your line of credit is already established and it’s a long term, indefinite account.  We know we’ll be there for each other for life events and for the little things in between.  We have new accounts that we’ve just opened that are still establishing what our credit limit is and how far we want this fund to grow.  These relationships require a little more investment initially because we aren’t sure what kind of an account it’s going to be or if it will be worth keeping this account open.  Sometimes we offer people accounts that really have bad credit or that continuously withdraw their account with us.  Romantic relationships are extremely hard to run background checks on- sometimes love and infatuation can blind us from making a good sound investment decision.

The past year has been a little crazy for me. I have taken on a second job to get myself financially fit and pay off my remaining debts. I’m not married or have kids so it seems like this is a perfect opportunity to take the time to do those things.  I’d like to earn enough money to take a trip and see some things before life passes me by.  My bank accounts have suffered some this year because of this choice I have made.  I have missed birthdays, back yard barbecues, and other events.  I’m terrible about returning phone calls and texts.  The text part was pretty normal for me before- I’m a person not a robot. I’d like to talk to your face please.  I have shown up when I can and tried to fit in an active lifestyle.  I know most of my friendships have an established line of credit that won’t go away or close in this time I’m taking for myself but I also feel bad about not investing in my accounts more or having the energy to put into some of my newer accounts.  I just hope I’m not overdrawing or in the red with most people.  My favorite time of the year is around the corner and life is about to get even busier. Fall always seems to just get out of control.  Going forward I’m going to try to be more diligent about carving out investment funds for my bank accounts.  After all, this is really about balance and making time for the important things.

Why you should think before you put your foot in your mouth: mothers vs childless

I sat in this office with shiny posters on the wall about prenatal care.  There is a severely pregnant lady in the seat next to me.  There is a young couple across from me holding hands, no doubt eagerly awaiting a sonogram. The nurses all wear these pink or blue scrubs with baby themed characters on them- like baby animals. Everyone is excited to be here.

Everyone but me.

I haven’t slept well in days.  My blood pressure is through the roof.  I’ve lost weight.  I drink too much coffee and eat not enough. This is the soonest my doctor could see me.  I’m here to get tested for STDs.

I make it through the gates of the lobby into an exam room.  My nurse, she’s asking me about my history and what all I’d like to be tested for, “Would you like the whole panel?”  I’m starring at a picture drawn by Anna, age 6, of a rainbow and some flowers. Anna. That’s a pretty name.

I reply numbly that she should test me for everything.  I’m scared.  I’m not even truly worried about these tests as much as the other question burning a hole in my brain.

How did I end up here when two weeks ago I was sitting in a pizza place holding hands with my boyfriend and talking about getting married? What in the fuck happened? Why am I sitting here this tissue sticking to my bare ass, sweating so much you’d think I just ran a marathon? I cannot believe this is happening to me.

I’m here because I know I need to protect myself.  I need to be responsible because someone was irresponsible with me.

I’m 28 years old and I’ve just been cheated on by a guy I thought I was going to marry and have kids with. I have moved out of our shared apartment and back in with my parents.  A few days ago, my father and brother came while my boyfriend was at work and helped me move my things out.  I left him the blender but took the silverware and what was left of my heart.

The doctor comes in.  She’s the same doctor that I’ve seen since I was 19.  She asks me questions while she does my breast exam. As if I need to be violated more, she  proceeds to do a pelvic exam.  She’s pretty gentle and is quick about it.  We talk a little more.  She’s going to send me down the hall to get my blood drawn and I’ll have results in about a week.  Finally I need to ask her-

“Do I still have time? Like can I still have kids? Is it going to be too late now?” I get the last question out with a choking sob. She grabs a tissue and smiles, “Oh my dear. You have plenty of time. You are so very young and beautiful.  It’s just not time yet.”

My doctor, she tells me that most of her patients are in their 30’s these days.  People are waiting longer to have kids.  She had her own children at 34 and 36.  She pats me on the back, hands me my paperwork for my blood-work and says she’ll call me in a week.

Fast forward to present day, I’m now 31.  I still do not have children.  It still hasn’t been the right time for me. I don’t know if it ever will be.  I’d like kids some day.  But here’s what I’d like to say to those of you that say condensing remarks, funny anecdotes about the lady that doesn’t have kids, or tell me I don’t know what I’m missing, or how hard it is to be a parent:

You can shut your mouth when you are talking to me or anyone else that doesn’t have kids.

Did you ever think for two seconds that someone doesn’t have kids because they can’t? Won’t you feel really terrible if in the future that person you are bugging about having kids has fertility problems?

Do you ever think how hurtful these things are to some of us?

And sometimes frankly I want to reply back with:

Sorry for being a responsible adult.

I have been on some type of birth control since I was 17.  I know things happen- nature will always find a way.  But I have taken the precautions not to get pregnant with the wrong person at the wrong time.  And even at age 31, IT IS NOT THE RIGHT TIME.  I am an adult that eats pop-tarts for dinner and puts my car keys in the freezer. I lose my cell phone at least twice a week.  I don’t do laundry on a regular basis and am a terrible driver.  I haven’t settled down enough to be a parent.  I’m not married and I don’t know when that will happen either.

And if you say, “If you wait for the right time, it’ll never happen”

I will shoot you in the face.  It will happen. And I’ll be a damn good mom when it does happen.  I’ve had my time to be selfish. I think the sign of a great parent is when someone is ready to be selfless.  Kids are a lot of work and they require everything you’ve got.  I know some of you think I’m some kind of idiot for waiting so long and to quote my sister “have no idea what it’s like”  And you know what? You are right, I don’t know what it’s like.  To refresh everyone, I don’t have kids. But I have great parents. There are pictures of my mother, her hair a hot mess, throw up on her shirt, and children climbing all over her and she’s smiling. She’s smiling.   My parents never took vacations. They raised four kids on my father’s middle class job and my mother’s small part-time business. My mother never wore the latest trendy clothes.  If my parents went on a date it was rare or for someone’s birthday. My mother worked part-time to be able to be a stay at home mom most of the time.  She was always there when I got home from school.  They sacrificed a lot to be good parents. I may not have had the experience yet but I think I’ve got some great role models to follow.

A lot of women that have had kids young seem to feel this strange entitlement that something is owed to them because they have had children earlier than everyone else.  Be proud that you made it through that. I don’t know how you’ve managed. I really don’t because I couldn’t keep a house plant alive in my early 20’s.  But please, don’t sit there and lecture me about how great being a mom is unless you want me to lecture you on how great my 20’s were without kids. I’d also like to state that you could have prevented or at least attempted to prevent having a child that young, a lot of people do.

That was bitchy wasn’t it? Well I think it’s bitchy when you say things like, “Being a mother is so great. You just have no idea. When are you going to have kids by the way? My baby changed my life. It just gives my life true meaning now.”

So what my life has no meaning without children? For the record my life is pretty great without kids but I can’t wait to experience that adventure with the right person when I’m ready.  It hasn’t been the right time or the right guy. And it may never be the right time for my body- I may have to adopt.

Please think about these silly things we say to each other, especially as women.  If you are a mother that has lived the joys of a family and little ones- you should be most considerate of others that haven’t had this experience.  What would you feel like if you were told, knowing what you know now, you may not ever have kids? Or just never met your spouse to create the family you love so much? You’d be pretty sad, wouldn’t you?

And also it shouldn’t be any of your damn business if someone chooses NOT to have kids. It’s perfectly okay, and it doesn’t make someone a bad person for not wanting kids.  And shame on you for not being open minded to the idea that one doesn’t have to have kids to give their life meaning. I think it’s more responsible for someone who doesn’t want kids to not have them than to give in to the pressures of society and family and have a kid they didn’t want.  That’s how we end up with serial killers.

 

The raw and the dirty of being a Stepford wife.

I’m standing in the grocery store in front of the milk cooler, literally there is steam coming off my skin.

My face is passive and my voice would never give me away.

The body never tells lies.

I’d place a wager that my blood pressure is elevated and my skin is hot to the touch. I’m having a hard time comprehending the price tag under each dairy item and adding it to my running tally of my grocery budget.

It’s like walking through a dream when I drop a glass container of milk in the middle of the floor lose my utter and total shit in the middle of the dairy isle of my local grocery store.

In sports psychology they talk a lot about mental toughness and how we can push our bodies through pain via mind over matter. But what happens when your mind gets a crack in it and it just keeps growing- everyone has a breaking point, no matter how strong you think you are.

And I had reached mine.

For half of my adult life, I have chosen to be in unhealthy or unsupported relationships. I preach to friends and family that they should get out of such relationships, yet continue this destructive lifestyle for myself.

I’m not sure why I do this. I’ve went through therapy for long enough to know that it’s not something I need to pursue.

Maybe there is something inside me that is so broken- I seek out other broken people to fix instead of myself.

I’m currently in a relationship with a guy that lies to me continuously.  He lies about where he is and about what he is doing.  He says the lies are to prevent me from getting angry about his drinking.  Which, he also has trouble controlling.  His drinking leads him to destroying his own life that he is trying to build for himself and his two beautiful daughters.

No one is perfect.  I think that’s why I stay. Because I don’t feel like I’m a better person to walk away- maybe I’m undeserving or not grown into the person I want to be for someone yet- so I just stay in this circle of destructive behavior.

I don’t tell my friends, my family or anyone the real truth because my relationship is already like a soap opera- the parts that people do see.  And I feel like a fool every time I walk away only to come back again. There is love there- I adore this man the times that he’s sober and sweet. After a fight he promises life will change and he will discontinue his destructive behaviors for himself and for the better of the relationship.  I believe him and then we just end up at the same crossroads a week later.

It’s a terrible thing to be in love and heartbroken at the same time.

I know the relationship is destroying me. But it’s like every piece that is broken of me isn’t strong enough to make the right choice for myself.  And I’ve been here before is the sad part.

I don’t know why I always give half of myself to someone that doesn’t take pride in it.

It’s probably because I don’t take pride in myself.

The sad part is that I know by writing this and letting people see it- it’s all out there. Maybe I want him to see it and for him to really change.

But like every therapy session I’ve ever had: you can’t change people or go into something expecting people to change.

Maybe it’s just admitting that this is so very wrong- that will give me cause to really leave for good this time.

I’m no better than girls with cheating husbands. I’m no better than the girls with the abusive husbands.  I’m no better than anyone that I scowl upon for staying in these relationships.

I sat crossed legged crying in a grocery store tonight.

I seriously have no room to talk about anyone’s relationship.

I am a hypocrite.

And frankly I am fucking tired of it.

I just want to stop it.  But somehow I always end up here.  Which leads me to understand that it’s me. I know I need to make a change. I’m the one with the problem. There isn’t anyone to fix me but myself.

 Picking up broken pieces of others seems to be so much easier than picking up my own.

Standing at the giant jigsaw puzzle of yourself is slightly overwhelming. I don’t even know where the corner pieces are.

I just sit here praying to the love of a God I don’t even think exists that I will be normal someday.

Golden girls: making and keeping lasting female friendships

I can’t tell you how many times I hear:

I don’t have many female friends. I just don’t get along with other girls.

Well let’s talk about that big fat ugly elephant in the room: competition.  By nature, women are ALWAYS in competition with each other. This is something that reaches deep down in your primal lady-bit loins.  Even though we live in a post feminism society, a woman no longer needs a man to sustain the luxuries of life, you still have an urge to compete both for success and sex. Now let’s talk about the baby elephants of competition: jealously and insecurity. Because we are always trying to compare ourselves to each other, there’s a tendency to covet and desire the things you are lacking.  Not being able to obtain those things can cause insecurity and more than that it can destroy friendships. We often pass judgement irrationally or act out aggressively. We see this in forms of backstabbing and gossiping.

Jealously is by far the most detrimental human emotion.

When you say, “I just don’t get along with other girls” I tend to think one of two things:

You are the insecure, possibly jealous, girl.

OR

You are choosing to befriend girls that have insecurity issues.

My suggestion either way: Make a conscious decision to take competition out of your relationships with other women. You are always going to have a friend that has a nicer home, a better job, a husband (single girl humor there), better kids, a more adventurous sex life, better hair, better boobs, better skin, or maybe just a better car. If you are always comparing yourself to the things you don’t have, you’ll miss how important the things that you do have are. If we focus on what we have to offer in the way of love, loyalty and true friendship, I think more of us would be kind to each other. I think the beauty of female friendships is empowerment.  Because we have this deep seeded need to always compare ourselves to each other, the support we receive from one another is much more valuable than anything a man could give you.  Imagine if every woman you thought was beautiful told you that YOU were beautiful right back. Imagine if charming, sexy, brilliant, funny, and just down right amazing, all were said to you in return.

Side note: If you are in search of self acceptance, you won’t find it in any relationship with a man. Reason number 1 to have female friends, they’ll put you on the right path if they are the type of friends you should have. I believe the truest way to find self acceptance is to follow the path inward. Good friends can help light up that path and help you embrace it. Those we surround ourselves with are the greatest reflection of ourselves.

Friendships are often established out of a common interest. The thing about life is that it always changes and so do friendships. The biggest challenge here is before and after marriage and children.  As a single woman, having several married with kids friends, it’s something I often struggle with. The dynamic changes a bit but you are the same two women that started the friendship together. You just have different responsibilities. Tons of my girlfriends tell me, “Your life is so awesome! You get to go out all the time and you always have a clean house!” and I respond “Your life is so awesome! You have a family and don’t eat pop-tarts and wine for dinner!” The key to keeping these relationships? Really it’s the key to all friendships, continue to show-up and be present.  Be there to support, laugh, listen through it all. Isn’t that the reason you became friends in the first place?

I do want to caution that some people aren’t ready for empowerment. Just because you’ve made a healthy choice to view your friendships without competition, doesn’t mean others are ready to take that leap with you.  Why? Maturity.  Don’t try to be friends with people who aren’t on the same level of maturity as you are. If you find that you are spending negative energy in a relationship, maybe it’s time to move on and cut your losses. Friendships have seasons. You can revisit in a few seasons and see if anything has changed. It’s also ok to have different circles of friends.  Not all of your friends have to like each other or be best friends. Personally, I like I having different circles. It makes my friendships more diverse and at times more extraordinary.

So at the end of the day are you the girl that doesn’t have other female friends? Make the change to take competition out of your female relationships.  Learn to empower others and empower yourself by doing so. Cut out negative, immature relationships.  Show-up and be present in friendship.  If you start doing these things, I promise, you won’t be that girl any more. The result will be long-lasting, fulfilling, fabulous female relationships.

Two of my favorite girls having a moment-