I work really hard at trying to live in the moment, not wasting a second of my "wild and precious" life. I think it's important to live in those small minutes, appreciating the life that is mine, that I fought so hard to keep when cancer tried to steal it from me.
And yet...
And yet I absolutely love the change in seasons, and I'm ready for autumn to come and woo me.
I have loved this summer, and it's been a summer of beaches: every possible minute has been spent on a beach, by the water, in the water. When I am an old woman and twice as wrinkly as the other old women, I will remember this summer as the one in which I was deep golden brown, playing with the kids in my bathing suit. An idealized version of this summer, true, but my tan lines are proof that there is some truth to it as well.
But I'm ready for the change in season, almost impatient for it, despite my intention to be present in the moment.
Lots of it is that I'm anticipating all of the changes that come with fall, preparing for them, slightly nervous about them, and I just want to jump right in and stop thinking about it. My beautiful daughter is about to start middle school, and every person I meet seems to think that this harkens the beginning of some miserable years for the two of us, but I am determined to prove them wrong. I'm excited to see the young lady that my daughter is becoming, and I'm excited to hear all of the new stories, and to launch this phase of our lives together.
Freshly sharpened pencils; fresh, clean binders; trips to the library; brightly colored papers announcing this and that. I have always loved the beginning of school, and in my adult life it's no different.
And it's been a hot summer in my corner of the world, a few degrees above average, and I've enjoyed it, but it's time to cool off. I'm ready for tights and boots, for scarves and sweaters. I'm ready to hike in the fall leaves, to have an Oktoberfest bratwurst while listening to music that would otherwise make me cringe (but, once a year, makes me smile). I can't wait to go with friends to the pumpkin patch, as we always do, and to launch pumpkins in the trebuchet, and to giggle at Katherine as she gets the biggest pumpkin in the field. (Years ago, we came up with a tradition: she can have any pumpkin in the field as long as she can carry it all by herself. She's very strong, and I think she trains all year to get a ridiculously large pumpkin.)
Back to routines, too. I'm always trying to tweak my routine to improve it, and this year, like every other year, I have plans for improvement. I will write more, do yoga, walk the dog even on days I don't run.
Summer is a time for splashing and happy shouting, for bright colors and bare skin, for outdoor gatherings and open doors and picnics three times a week. Autumn is a time for productivity, new ideas, coziness, fresh starts.
I'm ready for the next change. I feel it in the air, and it's more than just the cool undercurrents creeping in to the hot days, it's something in me, in my life. I'm deeply enjoying not dating - sometimes, I think I enjoy my solitude too much, but I am trying not to judge it and just accept it. But letting go of the idea of finding my one true love has allowed me to relax into other things, to tackle my life with new energy.
School starts on the first week of September, and I am ready. Our unhurried summer schedule (Katherine has been sleeping in, playing with friends every day while I work) will be replaced by our busy one: from school and work to gymnastics and homework, and bedtimes will be enforced. It's always a challenge, but I'm ready for it.
I feel a change coming in my life. We'll see what it is, whether it's just a season or something more. I'm more peaceful about my life than ever before, content with what is before me, and grateful for that contentment. My restlessness has been replaced with something else I can't quite name yet. Whether it's deeper peace, or something else.... I am hopeful that it's something wonderful.
***
On another note... My favorite nonprofit had an event this weekend that I was active in. They're undergoing major changes on their board, and their executive director has announced that she'll step down in 1-2 years. The number one name on the list of who will replace her is....me. I can't see ahead that far, and there are both pros and cons to the idea, but I feel a glow of pride that this new career path is exceeding my expectations. I'm working really hard at work, meeting with success, and so proud of the work I'm doing. A year ago, I was in a panic trying to figure out how I was going to make my life work out, transitioning out of my unfulfilling job and into an unformed career, but now I feel steady and solid and valued and challenged....and wanted! The leap of faith paid off, and I am living the results.
Grateful.
Monday, August 25, 2014
Monday, August 18, 2014
Muddling along
I'm muddling along.
I'm not in the deepdarkplace, but I'm not as joyful as I'd like to be, either. I am muddling through, hoping for signs that I'm on the right path.
On Sunday, I hiked. It's the best way for me to figure out what I'm doing, the best way for me to clear my mind. I went alone, not including my big dog, as Katherine was at a sleepover birthday party where my services weren't needed.
I love hiking alone. No talking, just lost in the views around me, the smells of the damp forest (it had rained the night before), birdsong, a million kinds of moss (speaking of which, I loved reading "The Signature of All Things" by Elizabeth Gilbert; if you've read it you'll know why I'm mentioning it now). A tiny lake with little fish jumping; a log at the edge of the lake to sit upon and munch my PB&J (a lazy version of lunch) and fresh peach.
I brought my journal, and I wanted to write Big Thoughts that would clarify everything that I was feeling, but I had no further epiphanies. My mind wandered to my vacation with my parents, to my marriage, to my present, to the future. Complicated lives do not make for simple conclusions, and I did not have a grand epiphany.
But I did relax a bit, and I felt some of the tension ease.
I may be muddling, but I think I'm' muddling in the right direction.
It seems that whatever I do, I'm not in charge of what happens next: I mean, I can eat healthy food and exercise (or not), and I can be an attentive parent (or not), and I can work hard at my career (or not), and those things have a great impact on my future....but in matters of soul mates, I think it comes down to pure luck, and it happens when it happens (or not).
So, I will be alone, for now or forever, and I am learning peacefulness about it. I'm thinking about what vulnerability means, I'm thinking about what being open means, and I'm thinking about what living in the moment means in the face of that.
I don't have the answers, and I'm thinking about learning to be okay with that.
Thinking about faith, grace, and trust. Thinking about the universe's benevolence, my faith in myself, and the beauty of being alive to muddle through. Wondering about God, hoping for some kind of grace, trying to trust the process of it all.
I may only be muddling, but right now, I think that's enough. Maybe it is even more than enough.
I'm not in the deepdarkplace, but I'm not as joyful as I'd like to be, either. I am muddling through, hoping for signs that I'm on the right path.
On Sunday, I hiked. It's the best way for me to figure out what I'm doing, the best way for me to clear my mind. I went alone, not including my big dog, as Katherine was at a sleepover birthday party where my services weren't needed.
I love hiking alone. No talking, just lost in the views around me, the smells of the damp forest (it had rained the night before), birdsong, a million kinds of moss (speaking of which, I loved reading "The Signature of All Things" by Elizabeth Gilbert; if you've read it you'll know why I'm mentioning it now). A tiny lake with little fish jumping; a log at the edge of the lake to sit upon and munch my PB&J (a lazy version of lunch) and fresh peach.
I brought my journal, and I wanted to write Big Thoughts that would clarify everything that I was feeling, but I had no further epiphanies. My mind wandered to my vacation with my parents, to my marriage, to my present, to the future. Complicated lives do not make for simple conclusions, and I did not have a grand epiphany.
But I did relax a bit, and I felt some of the tension ease.
I may be muddling, but I think I'm' muddling in the right direction.
It seems that whatever I do, I'm not in charge of what happens next: I mean, I can eat healthy food and exercise (or not), and I can be an attentive parent (or not), and I can work hard at my career (or not), and those things have a great impact on my future....but in matters of soul mates, I think it comes down to pure luck, and it happens when it happens (or not).
So, I will be alone, for now or forever, and I am learning peacefulness about it. I'm thinking about what vulnerability means, I'm thinking about what being open means, and I'm thinking about what living in the moment means in the face of that.
I don't have the answers, and I'm thinking about learning to be okay with that.
Thinking about faith, grace, and trust. Thinking about the universe's benevolence, my faith in myself, and the beauty of being alive to muddle through. Wondering about God, hoping for some kind of grace, trying to trust the process of it all.
Don't run away from grief , o soul
Look for the remedy inside the pain.
because the rose came from the thorn
and the ruby came from a stone
Look for the remedy inside the pain.
because the rose came from the thorn
and the ruby came from a stone
Rumi
I may only be muddling, but right now, I think that's enough. Maybe it is even more than enough.
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
Restless
I am feeling restless, and I'm not sure why, and I don't know what to do about it.
Lots of things are going right. Life is pretty on track: healthy, Katherine is doing well, we just had a week of vacation in the sunshine on a boat, my career is moving forward, my home is comfortable and filled with the things we need, there's lots of friends on speed dial, I live in a beautiful part of the world where not only do I have clean drinking water and a lack of war, I'm also surrounded by sparkling seas and majestic trees and rich green. My dog loves me, my cat makes me laugh, I've got a zillion books to read, good music to hear, lots of dreams and plans.
And yet, I feel an undercurrent that makes me uncomfortable. All of that goodness in my life, and I still want more.
I want a lot more, actually, and I feel like a selfish ingrate for it. So many blessings in my life, and so many in this world would likely give up almost anything to have the things that I do. I see pictures of Gaza, Afghanistan, Syria, Missouri, Iraq, Sierra Leone, Russia, and I know how blessed I am.
I'm a white, educated, middle class woman with a great support network and equity in her house. My daughter loves me and today, because she wasn't feeling well, I worked from home part of the day to be with her. She started to feel better and decided to make cupcakes with ingredients we had on hand (I'm a firm believer that there should always be a pound of butter in the fridge for moments just like this - we bake from scratch around here.). Everyone should be so lucky.
You get the point. On planet earth, I think I'm in the 1%. I've never had to walk to get water, except when I do it on purpose to rough it while backpacking. I cook on a stove, not a campfire. If the power went out, I could use my gas grill. When I hear a loud noise in my neighborhood at night, I think "What idiot is putting off fireworks in August?" and not "Oh no, guns!"
A lucky girl. Even though my car is on the edge of dying, the house always needs work, money is tight, and I haven't been overseas in a decade and I need a haircut (it's been what, six months? more?) and I can't remember the last time I had a pedicure and I eat beans instead of meat sometimes because it's cheaper, I know how lucky I am.
And yet...struggling a bit.
This loneliness that I'm feeling is different than anything I've felt before. When I was first separated, I felt the lack of Bryan, and the hole in my life where I thought he was supposed to be before it all fell apart. But this hole isn't about Bryan at all, it is only about myself, the life I have created for myself. I don't want him, or the marriage that I now realize was never very good.
My marriage was a train wreck. I look back on it, and the girl I was, and the "rules" that I agreed to, and the way I walked on eggshells, and the lack of connection to my spouse and how I tried so hard to do the right thing, accept him as he was, compromise....and I feel lonely. Lonely that I did not get what I worked so hard to create.
I feel lonely because I have never been loved the way I want to love and be loved, and because I do not know if I will ever find that kind of love, and I do not feel like I have any control over it.
I've pretty much given up on online dating. A recent article about online dating in the NY Times ( http://op-talk.blogs.nytimes.com/2014/08/12/a-meet-cute-of-professional-networking-and-online-dating/?_php=true&_type=blogs&_r=0 ) was interesting, but it was this that caught my eye:
Mr. Finkel and Ms. Sprecher are part of a team that wrote a longer psychology paper, summarized on Science of Us, arguing this in greater depth. What a person might find attractive on a profile may have no correlation to what they find attractive in real life, the report says, and browsing profiles “fosters judgmental, assessment-oriented evaluations and can cognitively overwhelm users, two processes that can ultimately undermine romantic outcomes.”
Yes, that about sums up my experience (and my blog post "Online Dating Makes Me Shallow.") It went on to say: "Matthew Kassel, writing for The Observer, found online dating similarly unsatisfying. It meant that his “lifetime date count had, like a strain of mutant amoebae, multiplied by more than sevenfold” as he “ricocheted from one woman to the next.” But very few of his encounters led to a second date, and the whole thing, he writes, “was starting to feel forced, perfunctory, dehumanizing and, yes, expensive.”"
In short, online dating isn't for me. This in itself is not a huge revelation, but here's what is:
I realize that online dating was a crutch that made me believe that I could limp along and find my life partner there, hiding in the pixels of OkCupid, and that gave me a lot of hope in that variety of the future. The crutch gone, I feel like I'm going to be alone forever, because I rarely if ever meet single men or put myself in a situation to meet single men.
So here I am, healthy, loved, safe in my comfortable home and with a beautiful daughter; educated, employed, and with a fridge full of food....and all of that seems shadowed by the thought that I may, indeed, never find soulmate love, romantic partner alignment, the joy of shared laughter during intimacy.
Very teenager-macabre sounding. If one of my friends said this to me, I'd scoff. I'd say, "Oh, give me a break, you're lovely and together and it'll happen when it happens, so just relax and enjoy the ride."
Telling myself this has not yet been helpful.
***
I keep thinking back to my vacation and the less-than-perfect family of origin stuff, too. I've come by my problems honestly, and it is not a surprise to me now, having lived it, that the model of relationships of how men should treat me, taught by my father, led me to the wrong place. I'm processing, trying to see it from different angles, trying to acknowledge it without letting anger or sadness consume me. It is mostly in my past, after all, and what I do in the present can be more informed than what has defined me in the past.
But here's the rub:
I can run a half marathon, rework my whole job, be a career woman, take care of my daughter, find fun things to do, hike, write, read, volunteer at things that fill my heart.....and it doesn't fill up the hole that I feel growing inside of me, and that IS SO ANNOYING!
I want to work my way out of this. I want to DO something to make it feel better. I am willing to meditate, to exercise, to actively ignore, to confront, to discuss, to do whatever it takes to get rid of this feeling, but the bottom line is that I think I'm going to have to just wait it out, and patience is the thing that I do not do well.
I can do it all "right" and yet I can't change the feelings, and I can't force my life to create a partner of my choosing. Do I have to just wait for this to pass? I am not good at waiting.
So I'm trying to be patient with the idea, slowly owning the idea that I might be alone forever, that the things I've dreamed of may never come to fruition, and that I might need to be okay with that.
It doesn't sit well with me, though, and I want to figure out how to be an optimist in the face of those feelings.
If you've got the answers, drop me a line, will you? Because I'm feeling really stuck, and I hate being stuck.
Lots of things are going right. Life is pretty on track: healthy, Katherine is doing well, we just had a week of vacation in the sunshine on a boat, my career is moving forward, my home is comfortable and filled with the things we need, there's lots of friends on speed dial, I live in a beautiful part of the world where not only do I have clean drinking water and a lack of war, I'm also surrounded by sparkling seas and majestic trees and rich green. My dog loves me, my cat makes me laugh, I've got a zillion books to read, good music to hear, lots of dreams and plans.
And yet, I feel an undercurrent that makes me uncomfortable. All of that goodness in my life, and I still want more.
I want a lot more, actually, and I feel like a selfish ingrate for it. So many blessings in my life, and so many in this world would likely give up almost anything to have the things that I do. I see pictures of Gaza, Afghanistan, Syria, Missouri, Iraq, Sierra Leone, Russia, and I know how blessed I am.
I'm a white, educated, middle class woman with a great support network and equity in her house. My daughter loves me and today, because she wasn't feeling well, I worked from home part of the day to be with her. She started to feel better and decided to make cupcakes with ingredients we had on hand (I'm a firm believer that there should always be a pound of butter in the fridge for moments just like this - we bake from scratch around here.). Everyone should be so lucky.
You get the point. On planet earth, I think I'm in the 1%. I've never had to walk to get water, except when I do it on purpose to rough it while backpacking. I cook on a stove, not a campfire. If the power went out, I could use my gas grill. When I hear a loud noise in my neighborhood at night, I think "What idiot is putting off fireworks in August?" and not "Oh no, guns!"
A lucky girl. Even though my car is on the edge of dying, the house always needs work, money is tight, and I haven't been overseas in a decade and I need a haircut (it's been what, six months? more?) and I can't remember the last time I had a pedicure and I eat beans instead of meat sometimes because it's cheaper, I know how lucky I am.
And yet...struggling a bit.
This loneliness that I'm feeling is different than anything I've felt before. When I was first separated, I felt the lack of Bryan, and the hole in my life where I thought he was supposed to be before it all fell apart. But this hole isn't about Bryan at all, it is only about myself, the life I have created for myself. I don't want him, or the marriage that I now realize was never very good.
My marriage was a train wreck. I look back on it, and the girl I was, and the "rules" that I agreed to, and the way I walked on eggshells, and the lack of connection to my spouse and how I tried so hard to do the right thing, accept him as he was, compromise....and I feel lonely. Lonely that I did not get what I worked so hard to create.
I feel lonely because I have never been loved the way I want to love and be loved, and because I do not know if I will ever find that kind of love, and I do not feel like I have any control over it.
I've pretty much given up on online dating. A recent article about online dating in the NY Times ( http://op-talk.blogs.nytimes.com/2014/08/12/a-meet-cute-of-professional-networking-and-online-dating/?_php=true&_type=blogs&_r=0 ) was interesting, but it was this that caught my eye:
Mr. Finkel and Ms. Sprecher are part of a team that wrote a longer psychology paper, summarized on Science of Us, arguing this in greater depth. What a person might find attractive on a profile may have no correlation to what they find attractive in real life, the report says, and browsing profiles “fosters judgmental, assessment-oriented evaluations and can cognitively overwhelm users, two processes that can ultimately undermine romantic outcomes.”
Yes, that about sums up my experience (and my blog post "Online Dating Makes Me Shallow.") It went on to say: "Matthew Kassel, writing for The Observer, found online dating similarly unsatisfying. It meant that his “lifetime date count had, like a strain of mutant amoebae, multiplied by more than sevenfold” as he “ricocheted from one woman to the next.” But very few of his encounters led to a second date, and the whole thing, he writes, “was starting to feel forced, perfunctory, dehumanizing and, yes, expensive.”"
In short, online dating isn't for me. This in itself is not a huge revelation, but here's what is:
I realize that online dating was a crutch that made me believe that I could limp along and find my life partner there, hiding in the pixels of OkCupid, and that gave me a lot of hope in that variety of the future. The crutch gone, I feel like I'm going to be alone forever, because I rarely if ever meet single men or put myself in a situation to meet single men.
So here I am, healthy, loved, safe in my comfortable home and with a beautiful daughter; educated, employed, and with a fridge full of food....and all of that seems shadowed by the thought that I may, indeed, never find soulmate love, romantic partner alignment, the joy of shared laughter during intimacy.
Very teenager-macabre sounding. If one of my friends said this to me, I'd scoff. I'd say, "Oh, give me a break, you're lovely and together and it'll happen when it happens, so just relax and enjoy the ride."
Telling myself this has not yet been helpful.
***
I keep thinking back to my vacation and the less-than-perfect family of origin stuff, too. I've come by my problems honestly, and it is not a surprise to me now, having lived it, that the model of relationships of how men should treat me, taught by my father, led me to the wrong place. I'm processing, trying to see it from different angles, trying to acknowledge it without letting anger or sadness consume me. It is mostly in my past, after all, and what I do in the present can be more informed than what has defined me in the past.
But here's the rub:
I can run a half marathon, rework my whole job, be a career woman, take care of my daughter, find fun things to do, hike, write, read, volunteer at things that fill my heart.....and it doesn't fill up the hole that I feel growing inside of me, and that IS SO ANNOYING!
I want to work my way out of this. I want to DO something to make it feel better. I am willing to meditate, to exercise, to actively ignore, to confront, to discuss, to do whatever it takes to get rid of this feeling, but the bottom line is that I think I'm going to have to just wait it out, and patience is the thing that I do not do well.
I can do it all "right" and yet I can't change the feelings, and I can't force my life to create a partner of my choosing. Do I have to just wait for this to pass? I am not good at waiting.
So I'm trying to be patient with the idea, slowly owning the idea that I might be alone forever, that the things I've dreamed of may never come to fruition, and that I might need to be okay with that.
It doesn't sit well with me, though, and I want to figure out how to be an optimist in the face of those feelings.
If you've got the answers, drop me a line, will you? Because I'm feeling really stuck, and I hate being stuck.
Sunday, August 10, 2014
Wonderful...Mostly
I just got back from a week on a small boat with Katherine and my parents, rediscovering the islands of my youth from the vantage point of docks and marinas and resort pools.
It was wonderful: we saw my beloved J Pod (resident orcas) in all of their stunning beauty; we swam; we played. I ran multiple times, up hills and on trails. Katherine and I slept in a tiny room on the boat, giggling at our close quarters. Mom and Dad treated to just about everything, and so I wasn't fretting about money. (Next fret: my waistline. Despite aiming for salads, there were a lot of French fries on this trip.)
But this one conversation between my father and I, as he walked me back to my car at the end of the trip, says a lot about my family dynamic:
Dad: Look at that Westy camper. You should get something like that! You'd love it!
Me: I've thought about it - it would be fun.
Dad: What, are you crazy? Those things break down all the time! What a stupid idea!
Me: Dad, I was being conversational. I'm not going to get one, I just thought I'd agree with you that they sound fun.
Dad: It's a terrible choice. I can't believe you'd consider that.
Me: DAD! I was holding polite conversation and AGREEING WITH YOU! How can you be mad at me for agreeing with the idea that YOU brought up? I'm not buying one. I just think they're fun! I looked into it once and I agree I won't get one, but I liked the idea of it.
Dad: What a stupid idea.
Me: I can't win! I agreed with you and now you think I'm stupid!
Dad: You're too sensitive. Lighten up. I can't believe you'd want a Westy. Stupid.
Some variation of this conversation, on a number of topics, came up a lot. I did a lot of deep breaths. Some things I let go. Some things (like this) I tried to verbally defend myself.
It's crazy making. Is it any wonder that I signed up for a crazy marriage? For me, it was NORMAL that someone acted like this: one minute sweet and kind, the next telling me I'm stupid. One minute telling me he's proud of me, the next belittling me. One minute friendly, the next mean. It was an unpredictable way to grow up, and I learned how to manage it.
The definition of dysfunctional.
It is not a surprise to me that I can't figure men out, that I have many close women in my life but very few men. It is not a surprise to me that I can't let a man in. Post epiphany, it seems like the biggest "well, duh" moment.
***
This trip, I had a great time, aside from those stupid parent moments with my dad. My daughter was great, the weather divine, the islands particularly beautiful.
But somewhere 2/3 of the way through, loneliness crept in.
Boating families are wonderful. They work together in small spaces, they have adventures together, they work as a team. They spend time laughing and sharing an interest. I saw many wonderful families....headed in every case by a loving couple. I was surrounded by loving couples and families headed by loving couples, and I was the solo woman.
On the last night, there was a giant boat that set up a party in the back....complete with a band. (Our boat could have fit inside their boat.) The band was three single men in maybe their late 50s, all attractive. Women came out of nowhere to flirt with them, and these women looked a bit hard, a bit brassy around the edges. The married women at the marina wore cute sundresses and striped tops with shorts and flip flops, but these women had lace and off-the-shoulder and heels....it was a bit off. I watched two of them get invited on board and disappear inside.
It didn't look attractive, or interesting, and I didn't want any part of it.
It made me feel lonely, and yet uninterested in dating....a strange juxtaposition.
***
As I sat on the rocks at a state park watching orcas cavort in front of me, so close that we could hear their breath, see their saddle patches, I wanted to lean into someone to share the moment. My beautiful daughter was having a mermaid moment and had climbed out on the rocks, closer than anyone else to the orcas, and was having her own moment, as a tween should....and I wanted someone to turn to, to say "isn't this incredible?" and to lean on, to squeeze hands, to catch eyes. There were others around me, but they were strangers, and I didn't want a stranger.
I am prepared to settle into being alone, working on my career, my mothering, running, playing at things I love to play at (hiking, camping, writing, reading, and more).
But it's unsettling, this loneliness.
I haven't thought about my family of origin craziness very much in the past decade, as consumed with cancer and divorce as that decade has been. I wish I wasn't thinking of it now, but it's getting in the way of what I want for myself and so it's rising out of the shallows, where it's been all along, and I must face it.
I don't like feeling lonely. I like feeling alive and fresh and vibrant, and living in that way.
I will wait for the loneliness to pass.
It was wonderful: we saw my beloved J Pod (resident orcas) in all of their stunning beauty; we swam; we played. I ran multiple times, up hills and on trails. Katherine and I slept in a tiny room on the boat, giggling at our close quarters. Mom and Dad treated to just about everything, and so I wasn't fretting about money. (Next fret: my waistline. Despite aiming for salads, there were a lot of French fries on this trip.)
But this one conversation between my father and I, as he walked me back to my car at the end of the trip, says a lot about my family dynamic:
Dad: Look at that Westy camper. You should get something like that! You'd love it!
Me: I've thought about it - it would be fun.
Dad: What, are you crazy? Those things break down all the time! What a stupid idea!
Me: Dad, I was being conversational. I'm not going to get one, I just thought I'd agree with you that they sound fun.
Dad: It's a terrible choice. I can't believe you'd consider that.
Me: DAD! I was holding polite conversation and AGREEING WITH YOU! How can you be mad at me for agreeing with the idea that YOU brought up? I'm not buying one. I just think they're fun! I looked into it once and I agree I won't get one, but I liked the idea of it.
Dad: What a stupid idea.
Me: I can't win! I agreed with you and now you think I'm stupid!
Dad: You're too sensitive. Lighten up. I can't believe you'd want a Westy. Stupid.
Some variation of this conversation, on a number of topics, came up a lot. I did a lot of deep breaths. Some things I let go. Some things (like this) I tried to verbally defend myself.
It's crazy making. Is it any wonder that I signed up for a crazy marriage? For me, it was NORMAL that someone acted like this: one minute sweet and kind, the next telling me I'm stupid. One minute telling me he's proud of me, the next belittling me. One minute friendly, the next mean. It was an unpredictable way to grow up, and I learned how to manage it.
The definition of dysfunctional.
It is not a surprise to me that I can't figure men out, that I have many close women in my life but very few men. It is not a surprise to me that I can't let a man in. Post epiphany, it seems like the biggest "well, duh" moment.
***
This trip, I had a great time, aside from those stupid parent moments with my dad. My daughter was great, the weather divine, the islands particularly beautiful.
But somewhere 2/3 of the way through, loneliness crept in.
Boating families are wonderful. They work together in small spaces, they have adventures together, they work as a team. They spend time laughing and sharing an interest. I saw many wonderful families....headed in every case by a loving couple. I was surrounded by loving couples and families headed by loving couples, and I was the solo woman.
On the last night, there was a giant boat that set up a party in the back....complete with a band. (Our boat could have fit inside their boat.) The band was three single men in maybe their late 50s, all attractive. Women came out of nowhere to flirt with them, and these women looked a bit hard, a bit brassy around the edges. The married women at the marina wore cute sundresses and striped tops with shorts and flip flops, but these women had lace and off-the-shoulder and heels....it was a bit off. I watched two of them get invited on board and disappear inside.
It didn't look attractive, or interesting, and I didn't want any part of it.
It made me feel lonely, and yet uninterested in dating....a strange juxtaposition.
***
As I sat on the rocks at a state park watching orcas cavort in front of me, so close that we could hear their breath, see their saddle patches, I wanted to lean into someone to share the moment. My beautiful daughter was having a mermaid moment and had climbed out on the rocks, closer than anyone else to the orcas, and was having her own moment, as a tween should....and I wanted someone to turn to, to say "isn't this incredible?" and to lean on, to squeeze hands, to catch eyes. There were others around me, but they were strangers, and I didn't want a stranger.
I am prepared to settle into being alone, working on my career, my mothering, running, playing at things I love to play at (hiking, camping, writing, reading, and more).
But it's unsettling, this loneliness.
I haven't thought about my family of origin craziness very much in the past decade, as consumed with cancer and divorce as that decade has been. I wish I wasn't thinking of it now, but it's getting in the way of what I want for myself and so it's rising out of the shallows, where it's been all along, and I must face it.
I don't like feeling lonely. I like feeling alive and fresh and vibrant, and living in that way.
I will wait for the loneliness to pass.
Sunday, July 13, 2014
So I had an epiphany. Now what?
Even though my epiphany was a bit harsh (what? I'm afraid?!) it's kind of exciting to me. It shows me a new path, a new idea to explore, and I like that. I haven't been able to understand why I wasn't quite going the direction I wanted romantically, and I think that my epiphany is that answer. That's excellent, in my opinion, and also necessary, because the definition of stupidity is doing the same thing over and over again while expecting different results. I want a different result....so I'm going to have to change.
And yet...
What on earth do I do with it? It seems like an excellent topic to discuss with a counselor, but I don't have the cash to spring for that, and it's a luxury I can't afford. (Don't jump on me here: I'm not saying ALL counseling is a luxury. I'm saying that paying someone to discuss my lack of love life with me is a luxury. I am not depressed, and my life isn't stuck - I'm feeling otherwise successful - and my relationships are solid, it's just romance. Counseling is critical for many things, and I've gone to counselors/therapists/psychiatrists before, and I'm not dissing them.)
Now, where was I?
Yes. What to do with my epiphany.
Since I can't afford a therapist, I'm going to have to unravel it by myself. If I'm afraid, I think I need to face my fears, but I'm not sure what that looks like. I'm not afraid of dating, I'm afraid of getting close to someone and being hurt, but when I date I am just not that into many people, so it's hard to find someone WORTH getting hurt by. (Very tongue in cheek, but with a bit of truth!)
I'm mulling it over. Forty four years of conditioning to undo is no easy task, but I'm up for the challenge. I'm not in a hurry, but I'm hoping to come up with some next steps.
***
This weekend I had a wonderful time playing with friends, and I had a busy day today doing chores and grocery shopping and minor household tasks, and I hosted my brother and his wife and their four kids and dog for dinner. I love them all, but collectively.....wowza. The parents yell at the kids, the kids run wild, and I run around trying not only to do the normal hostess duties but also see that my house isn't positively destroyed....while the parents watch and do nothing. Since it's summer we did this backyard style, but still nothing was immune, and it was exhausting. OOPS. Not the best way to end a weekend! I need some more down time than that. :-( Next weekend I have family commitments, including FIVE houseguests, but I swearIswearIswear I'm going to get time in my hammock with a book. Somehow.
I am trying to squeeze as much living as possible into my days, though, and I like that. Daily trips to my local beach, time with friends having adventures (Shakespeare in the Park, meandering a street fair, and more), volunteering, working, having fun with my girl, running....while still eating healthy, running, caring for my house, my yard, my pets, and of course doing the hard work of parenting as well as the fun stuff (scheduling, homework, chores, teaching even the not fun lessons).
My injury kept my from running, but I'm trying to regain lost ground. My clothes don't fit properly any more, and when I run I'm out of breath so fast that it's disappointing - I have nowhere near the speed OR endurance I did three short months ago, but I'm trying to regain it. On the weekends I'm working out both days no problem, but during the week it's tough to squeeze it in, so I'm working on that this week. (Last week I ran ONCE. Oops. This week, aiming for three times during the week.) I don't take my health for granted, and I'm trying hard to get back to the level of fitness I had before.
I have the idea that I need to have an adventure a day. Life gets so filled up with the 'must do this, must do that' that some days the routine gets me down: I feel like I have a choice between being responsible (work a bit longer at work, do another kid activity, chores, chores, and more chores, house projects, volunteering, family obligations...) and having a life, and I want to make sure that five days out of seven I do not find myself merely living instead of LIVING. An adventure might be quite short - a little trip to the beach to see the sunset, or lighting all of the candles and just sitting in the stillness for a bit, or going for a hike, or riding bikes to get ice cream, or swimming in the sea - but I want to really take time out of each day to LIVE. Often, I find that adventures involve really moving my body, but sometimes they are quieter (a book and a hammock and a cold beverage is heavenly, and certainly LIVING).
So, my challenges for the week and beyond:
1) Figure out what to do with my epiphany
2) Run three times during the week
3) Carve out time each day to really LIVE. An adventure per day, even if it's only 15 minutes.
Tomorrow after work will be a great adventure - out on the lake with friends on their boat. The next days will be harder, because I have a board meeting and then Wednesday Katherine has gymnastics....but I'm going to try. I'm going to try to figure this out, and to keep working on creating my best life. Where I get to rest in any of it is beyond me....but I'm going to keep trying to figure that out, too.
And on that note, it's 10:15 and my alarm is set for 5am work out. G'night, everyone.
And yet...
What on earth do I do with it? It seems like an excellent topic to discuss with a counselor, but I don't have the cash to spring for that, and it's a luxury I can't afford. (Don't jump on me here: I'm not saying ALL counseling is a luxury. I'm saying that paying someone to discuss my lack of love life with me is a luxury. I am not depressed, and my life isn't stuck - I'm feeling otherwise successful - and my relationships are solid, it's just romance. Counseling is critical for many things, and I've gone to counselors/therapists/psychiatrists before, and I'm not dissing them.)
Now, where was I?
Yes. What to do with my epiphany.
Since I can't afford a therapist, I'm going to have to unravel it by myself. If I'm afraid, I think I need to face my fears, but I'm not sure what that looks like. I'm not afraid of dating, I'm afraid of getting close to someone and being hurt, but when I date I am just not that into many people, so it's hard to find someone WORTH getting hurt by. (Very tongue in cheek, but with a bit of truth!)
I'm mulling it over. Forty four years of conditioning to undo is no easy task, but I'm up for the challenge. I'm not in a hurry, but I'm hoping to come up with some next steps.
***
This weekend I had a wonderful time playing with friends, and I had a busy day today doing chores and grocery shopping and minor household tasks, and I hosted my brother and his wife and their four kids and dog for dinner. I love them all, but collectively.....wowza. The parents yell at the kids, the kids run wild, and I run around trying not only to do the normal hostess duties but also see that my house isn't positively destroyed....while the parents watch and do nothing. Since it's summer we did this backyard style, but still nothing was immune, and it was exhausting. OOPS. Not the best way to end a weekend! I need some more down time than that. :-( Next weekend I have family commitments, including FIVE houseguests, but I swearIswearIswear I'm going to get time in my hammock with a book. Somehow.
I am trying to squeeze as much living as possible into my days, though, and I like that. Daily trips to my local beach, time with friends having adventures (Shakespeare in the Park, meandering a street fair, and more), volunteering, working, having fun with my girl, running....while still eating healthy, running, caring for my house, my yard, my pets, and of course doing the hard work of parenting as well as the fun stuff (scheduling, homework, chores, teaching even the not fun lessons).
My injury kept my from running, but I'm trying to regain lost ground. My clothes don't fit properly any more, and when I run I'm out of breath so fast that it's disappointing - I have nowhere near the speed OR endurance I did three short months ago, but I'm trying to regain it. On the weekends I'm working out both days no problem, but during the week it's tough to squeeze it in, so I'm working on that this week. (Last week I ran ONCE. Oops. This week, aiming for three times during the week.) I don't take my health for granted, and I'm trying hard to get back to the level of fitness I had before.
I have the idea that I need to have an adventure a day. Life gets so filled up with the 'must do this, must do that' that some days the routine gets me down: I feel like I have a choice between being responsible (work a bit longer at work, do another kid activity, chores, chores, and more chores, house projects, volunteering, family obligations...) and having a life, and I want to make sure that five days out of seven I do not find myself merely living instead of LIVING. An adventure might be quite short - a little trip to the beach to see the sunset, or lighting all of the candles and just sitting in the stillness for a bit, or going for a hike, or riding bikes to get ice cream, or swimming in the sea - but I want to really take time out of each day to LIVE. Often, I find that adventures involve really moving my body, but sometimes they are quieter (a book and a hammock and a cold beverage is heavenly, and certainly LIVING).
So, my challenges for the week and beyond:
1) Figure out what to do with my epiphany
2) Run three times during the week
3) Carve out time each day to really LIVE. An adventure per day, even if it's only 15 minutes.
Tomorrow after work will be a great adventure - out on the lake with friends on their boat. The next days will be harder, because I have a board meeting and then Wednesday Katherine has gymnastics....but I'm going to try. I'm going to try to figure this out, and to keep working on creating my best life. Where I get to rest in any of it is beyond me....but I'm going to keep trying to figure that out, too.
And on that note, it's 10:15 and my alarm is set for 5am work out. G'night, everyone.
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
Revirginized. Again.
First of all, hey, it's my blog, and I can say whatever I want, including making up words.
So.
Revirginized.
At my count, this is the third time I've been a virgin. There was the whole childhood into adulthood virginity. Then there was the getting-divorced virginity that left me sexless for about two years or more.
It's been a year since Luke and I broke up, and therefore a year since I last had sex.
(Insert deep sigh here.)
If there is a way to be at once comfortable in one's sexuality but also only choosing sexual partners who suit one's ideas of love and romance without actually refraining from sex, I simply haven't found it. If it exists, would you tell me how to find it RIGHT AWAY?!
Here's what isn't for me:
1) Being a cougar. I know, those lithe bodies and thick hair and carefree attitudes have some appeal - except they don't. I want someone who understands my life, and a man much my junior just isn't going to relate. I don't want to mother anyone, I don't want to be a sugar mama, and I don't want to be someone's booty call....so I don't want to be a cougar. It is amusing when men more than ten years younger are interested, but....not my thing
2) Friends with benefits. It's something I've considered, but I just can't have casual sex with a friend, because either I'd want him to be more than a friend or I don't want to have sex with him. I don't have a single male friend that I'd like to be in a relationship with, so I don't have a single male friend I'd like to have sex with. Plus, if I bent my own ideas, I'm pretty sure I'd end up heartbroken, because I couldn't separate out my feelings into neat little boxes that way.
3) Booty call. I've thought about casual sex more times than I can count, and I've wondered if I'm some terrible prude that I won't do it....but I don't want to do it. I compromised with Bryan and didn't get what I wanted, and it seems to me that for me casual sex is a huge compromise, and can't possibly give me what I want. It seems like Pop Tarts - junk food that won't satisfy. I want a tasty meal, not nasty processed food.
4) A for-now boyfriend. Online there were plenty of people who seemed like they'd like to take it to the next level, and a few were decent guys who will make someone a good boyfriend. Except that I can't seem to do anything halfway, and I know that I'd either fall in love with the wrong guy or be bored with him, and that's not exactly a recipe for chemistry and sparks, it's a recipe for disaster.
So, what's left is the path to true love, and that's not so easy. I loved having sex with Luke even though it was imperfect and we never really found our groove, because I was truly in the moment and though I wasn't sure what the future held, I was sure that in that moment I was where I wanted to be, and my body responded accordingly (with a giant WAHOOO of release!). He wasn't my true love, but he was on the path of that journey, so he was a good step along the way. (He's so far behind me I can't see him in the rear view mirror, though, and I have no desire to retrace my steps to go backwards.) I don't need my next partner to be Mr. Right, but he needs to be someone with at least that possibility; he needs to have enough in common with me and enough chemistry that I long to be in his arms. That's not easy to find - why is that? It seems that my other single girlfriends find that much more frequently....is it that my standards are too high, theirs are too low, or something altogether different? I just don't know.
So, here I am, revirginized with no sign of sex on the horizon. Having just removed myself from the dating pool again, I have no idea how to change that state of affairs (I know, I know, terrible pun!).
Maybe it's because it's summer, and my skin is often exposed so that the sun hits it. Maybe it's the fact that it's been a full year, and that this time last year I was thoroughly sexed up with Luke. Maybe it's in the air; I don't know. But sex is on my mind more than it was before, and I haven't got a good plan for dealing with it.
Single, busy, and missing sex. What is a forty-something single mom to do?!
So.
Revirginized.
At my count, this is the third time I've been a virgin. There was the whole childhood into adulthood virginity. Then there was the getting-divorced virginity that left me sexless for about two years or more.
It's been a year since Luke and I broke up, and therefore a year since I last had sex.
(Insert deep sigh here.)
If there is a way to be at once comfortable in one's sexuality but also only choosing sexual partners who suit one's ideas of love and romance without actually refraining from sex, I simply haven't found it. If it exists, would you tell me how to find it RIGHT AWAY?!
Here's what isn't for me:
1) Being a cougar. I know, those lithe bodies and thick hair and carefree attitudes have some appeal - except they don't. I want someone who understands my life, and a man much my junior just isn't going to relate. I don't want to mother anyone, I don't want to be a sugar mama, and I don't want to be someone's booty call....so I don't want to be a cougar. It is amusing when men more than ten years younger are interested, but....not my thing
2) Friends with benefits. It's something I've considered, but I just can't have casual sex with a friend, because either I'd want him to be more than a friend or I don't want to have sex with him. I don't have a single male friend that I'd like to be in a relationship with, so I don't have a single male friend I'd like to have sex with. Plus, if I bent my own ideas, I'm pretty sure I'd end up heartbroken, because I couldn't separate out my feelings into neat little boxes that way.
3) Booty call. I've thought about casual sex more times than I can count, and I've wondered if I'm some terrible prude that I won't do it....but I don't want to do it. I compromised with Bryan and didn't get what I wanted, and it seems to me that for me casual sex is a huge compromise, and can't possibly give me what I want. It seems like Pop Tarts - junk food that won't satisfy. I want a tasty meal, not nasty processed food.
4) A for-now boyfriend. Online there were plenty of people who seemed like they'd like to take it to the next level, and a few were decent guys who will make someone a good boyfriend. Except that I can't seem to do anything halfway, and I know that I'd either fall in love with the wrong guy or be bored with him, and that's not exactly a recipe for chemistry and sparks, it's a recipe for disaster.
So, what's left is the path to true love, and that's not so easy. I loved having sex with Luke even though it was imperfect and we never really found our groove, because I was truly in the moment and though I wasn't sure what the future held, I was sure that in that moment I was where I wanted to be, and my body responded accordingly (with a giant WAHOOO of release!). He wasn't my true love, but he was on the path of that journey, so he was a good step along the way. (He's so far behind me I can't see him in the rear view mirror, though, and I have no desire to retrace my steps to go backwards.) I don't need my next partner to be Mr. Right, but he needs to be someone with at least that possibility; he needs to have enough in common with me and enough chemistry that I long to be in his arms. That's not easy to find - why is that? It seems that my other single girlfriends find that much more frequently....is it that my standards are too high, theirs are too low, or something altogether different? I just don't know.
So, here I am, revirginized with no sign of sex on the horizon. Having just removed myself from the dating pool again, I have no idea how to change that state of affairs (I know, I know, terrible pun!).
Maybe it's because it's summer, and my skin is often exposed so that the sun hits it. Maybe it's the fact that it's been a full year, and that this time last year I was thoroughly sexed up with Luke. Maybe it's in the air; I don't know. But sex is on my mind more than it was before, and I haven't got a good plan for dealing with it.
Single, busy, and missing sex. What is a forty-something single mom to do?!
Sunday, July 6, 2014
Alternate plans and epiphanies
I had a gorgeous weekend.
First, a whole pile of chores front-loaded onto the three day weekend, so that I got them out of the way. Then, fireworks and BBQ with dear, dear friends. Then, off to the woods to go backpacking, just Katherine and I (oh, and our big dog). We hiked through snow -okay, I can handle this! we're prepared! - to a river too high to cross.
So, we begrudgingly turned around and went back. I felt heartsick - I really wanted that time in nature, under the stars, and I was longing for it. But as if to prove a point, the weather turned, and it started raining (no rain was in the forecast, but the mountains are funny that way), so down we went. We tried to find a car campsite somewhere at lower elevation, even in the rain, but to no avail: on the holiday weekend nothing was available except what we did not want.
We drowned our sorrows in good cheeseburgers and Katherine got a milkshake (a treat) and sulked home. I felt like our weekend had been lost....
Until I remembered that I'd just hiked for three hours with my daughter in the wilderness. Until I thought about how many wildflowers we'd seen. Until I though about how fun it was to play with snow in July. Until I remembered that we still had a day to do as we wished, even if it wasn't camped out. We didn't do the whole distance, but we DID backpack. I felt strong and able and confident, out alone with those packs on our back, and that WAS success.
Why on earth did I think I had figured out the only way to have fun, and that all else was somehow wrong because I didn't get what I wanted on my original plan?
A good night's sleep, and the day started anew.
Today, it was a ten mile bike ride along the sparkling sea, breakfast outdoors at a coffee shop, and climbing on the rocks to look for sea stars. It was running into urban goats (what?!) on the way home and feeding them. And then, bikinis and sunscreen and hats and sarong wraps, and friends picked us up and we went back to the beach. Swimming, sunning, catching up with our friends, picnicking.
I dove into the icy Sound, laughing. I kept my eyes open underwater, seeing the pebbles below me and the bits of seaweed floating by, and I felt like I was grinning from ear to ear. I think was the only 44 year old to attempt such insanity, as even the children usually only go wading as it's so cold...but it was 80 degrees and perfect weather, easy to warm up afterwards.
I sat on a chair with my friend, laughing and having girl talk in between mothering.
My fallback plan was perfection. Not at all the day I'd envisioned, but no less because of it.
***
I have relaxed into my idea of not dating, of perhaps being solo forever. There is liberation in not giving a damn, and it's sweet. It makes me feel giddy, even: I can do what I want whenever I want.
And yet?
Something isn't sitting quite right It's not "me" even if I am independent, sassy, strong, capable I don't "need" anyone, but don't I want someone? Isn't life more beautiful with a loving partner?
By relaxing into my feelings, I think I had a new epiphany.
Since my divorce, I've sought a partner to share the good stuff: my strength, courage, zest for living have all been offered up. My ability to rock a pair of high heels or waterproof hiking boots, my drive to run long distances, my can-do attitude. I've sought my partner for all those things, and I've wondered why the men I've met have come up so short.
I think I'm starting to figure it out.
I have been completely closed to The Big Stuff. The way that sometimes cars break down, or things go wrong, or bodies are imperfect. I've been willing to share my good stuff - hey, I'm proud of who am! - but not my insecurities.
I am one of the bravest people I know, and I don't say that lightly. I am damned proud of the way I stared cancer in the eye and made incredibly difficult decisions about treatment and faced those decisions every day for years. I am proud of the way I cared for my daughter in the midst of that, putting her needs beyond my own even on the worst days. I am proud of my career change, because it takes some serious nerve to do that at my age. I am proud of getting divorced when I had no idea how to feed myself. I have shown great strength and courage, and I'm proud of that bravery.
And yet?
I am slowly realizing that I am not at all brave about relationships with men. I don't put myself out there at all, and I've got walls that make Sleeping Beauty's thorn forest look like nothing.
All this dating, and I think it's only stopping the dating that made me see it clearly for the first time.
My father, and my ex-husband, both had the ability to look me in the eye and tell me what I wanted to hear and then go do the exact opposite of what they'd told me. They both had the ability to then say it was my fault that things worked out that way, or that I needed to be more accommodating, or that 'what's the big deal?' My family of origin - not perfect. My marriage - really messed up.
I managed those issues by not needing anyone. Witty repartee? Oh yes. A running partner? Sure - I could outrun most people. Talk about books, or politics? Absolutely. Put on the pretty dress and bring on appreciative looks and more? Of course.
But let someone in? I think I'm afraid of that. Me! Afraid! I thought I was afraid of almost nothing!
But I think I've got a lot of fear about letting someone else treat me the way my dad treated me, or the way Bryan treated me. I don't ever want to be treated like that ever again.....and I don't think I could handle it. For all my strength, courage, bravery....I think it would do me in.
And so the giant walls go up around me, and nobody gets in, and I don't get hurt.
Wellll.......shit. There is no other word for it.
I'm going to have to mull this over, and figure it out, because I believe in Living with a capital L, and letting fear get in the way of the good stuff is NOT my way of being.
I don't know how to face it entirely, but I'm going to figure this out. I believe that life is better with a companion, that sex is marvelous, that someone to hold me when I'm crying is pure magic. I won't let that idea go without a fight.
I'm going to work on this without someone else. I'm not about to start dating again. But I'm going to learn how to face the fear, face this idea head on....
Because when that icy water hits hot skin, and I'm in the green sea with the sun above me....it is magical. Let those on land say "oh I couldn't!" and "are you crazy?" and "wow you're brave." As for me, I like to get out there and live, deeply and richly, feeling every bit of it, and I know that breaking through the cold water and hitting the warm air is one of the best sensations in the world, and well worth the feeling of the frigid water making me gasp when it first hits my thighs. (Come to think of it, it's a bit like sex....all tingling and gasping and surprises and shivers....but I digress!)
I will face my fear. I will learn to let someone in. I have no idea how, but knowing that it's me - well, that's huge, and I'm happy with it.
But I have fear. I'm scared. Someone could hurt me. If I love someone, they WILL hurt me - it comes with the territory even in the best of loves.
But I intend to learn how to let the right someone in.
First, a whole pile of chores front-loaded onto the three day weekend, so that I got them out of the way. Then, fireworks and BBQ with dear, dear friends. Then, off to the woods to go backpacking, just Katherine and I (oh, and our big dog). We hiked through snow -okay, I can handle this! we're prepared! - to a river too high to cross.
So, we begrudgingly turned around and went back. I felt heartsick - I really wanted that time in nature, under the stars, and I was longing for it. But as if to prove a point, the weather turned, and it started raining (no rain was in the forecast, but the mountains are funny that way), so down we went. We tried to find a car campsite somewhere at lower elevation, even in the rain, but to no avail: on the holiday weekend nothing was available except what we did not want.
We drowned our sorrows in good cheeseburgers and Katherine got a milkshake (a treat) and sulked home. I felt like our weekend had been lost....
Until I remembered that I'd just hiked for three hours with my daughter in the wilderness. Until I thought about how many wildflowers we'd seen. Until I though about how fun it was to play with snow in July. Until I remembered that we still had a day to do as we wished, even if it wasn't camped out. We didn't do the whole distance, but we DID backpack. I felt strong and able and confident, out alone with those packs on our back, and that WAS success.
Why on earth did I think I had figured out the only way to have fun, and that all else was somehow wrong because I didn't get what I wanted on my original plan?
A good night's sleep, and the day started anew.
Today, it was a ten mile bike ride along the sparkling sea, breakfast outdoors at a coffee shop, and climbing on the rocks to look for sea stars. It was running into urban goats (what?!) on the way home and feeding them. And then, bikinis and sunscreen and hats and sarong wraps, and friends picked us up and we went back to the beach. Swimming, sunning, catching up with our friends, picnicking.
I dove into the icy Sound, laughing. I kept my eyes open underwater, seeing the pebbles below me and the bits of seaweed floating by, and I felt like I was grinning from ear to ear. I think was the only 44 year old to attempt such insanity, as even the children usually only go wading as it's so cold...but it was 80 degrees and perfect weather, easy to warm up afterwards.
I sat on a chair with my friend, laughing and having girl talk in between mothering.
My fallback plan was perfection. Not at all the day I'd envisioned, but no less because of it.
***
I have relaxed into my idea of not dating, of perhaps being solo forever. There is liberation in not giving a damn, and it's sweet. It makes me feel giddy, even: I can do what I want whenever I want.
And yet?
Something isn't sitting quite right It's not "me" even if I am independent, sassy, strong, capable I don't "need" anyone, but don't I want someone? Isn't life more beautiful with a loving partner?
By relaxing into my feelings, I think I had a new epiphany.
Since my divorce, I've sought a partner to share the good stuff: my strength, courage, zest for living have all been offered up. My ability to rock a pair of high heels or waterproof hiking boots, my drive to run long distances, my can-do attitude. I've sought my partner for all those things, and I've wondered why the men I've met have come up so short.
I think I'm starting to figure it out.
I have been completely closed to The Big Stuff. The way that sometimes cars break down, or things go wrong, or bodies are imperfect. I've been willing to share my good stuff - hey, I'm proud of who am! - but not my insecurities.
I am one of the bravest people I know, and I don't say that lightly. I am damned proud of the way I stared cancer in the eye and made incredibly difficult decisions about treatment and faced those decisions every day for years. I am proud of the way I cared for my daughter in the midst of that, putting her needs beyond my own even on the worst days. I am proud of my career change, because it takes some serious nerve to do that at my age. I am proud of getting divorced when I had no idea how to feed myself. I have shown great strength and courage, and I'm proud of that bravery.
And yet?
I am slowly realizing that I am not at all brave about relationships with men. I don't put myself out there at all, and I've got walls that make Sleeping Beauty's thorn forest look like nothing.
All this dating, and I think it's only stopping the dating that made me see it clearly for the first time.
My father, and my ex-husband, both had the ability to look me in the eye and tell me what I wanted to hear and then go do the exact opposite of what they'd told me. They both had the ability to then say it was my fault that things worked out that way, or that I needed to be more accommodating, or that 'what's the big deal?' My family of origin - not perfect. My marriage - really messed up.
I managed those issues by not needing anyone. Witty repartee? Oh yes. A running partner? Sure - I could outrun most people. Talk about books, or politics? Absolutely. Put on the pretty dress and bring on appreciative looks and more? Of course.
But let someone in? I think I'm afraid of that. Me! Afraid! I thought I was afraid of almost nothing!
But I think I've got a lot of fear about letting someone else treat me the way my dad treated me, or the way Bryan treated me. I don't ever want to be treated like that ever again.....and I don't think I could handle it. For all my strength, courage, bravery....I think it would do me in.
And so the giant walls go up around me, and nobody gets in, and I don't get hurt.
Wellll.......shit. There is no other word for it.
I'm going to have to mull this over, and figure it out, because I believe in Living with a capital L, and letting fear get in the way of the good stuff is NOT my way of being.
I don't know how to face it entirely, but I'm going to figure this out. I believe that life is better with a companion, that sex is marvelous, that someone to hold me when I'm crying is pure magic. I won't let that idea go without a fight.
I'm going to work on this without someone else. I'm not about to start dating again. But I'm going to learn how to face the fear, face this idea head on....
Because when that icy water hits hot skin, and I'm in the green sea with the sun above me....it is magical. Let those on land say "oh I couldn't!" and "are you crazy?" and "wow you're brave." As for me, I like to get out there and live, deeply and richly, feeling every bit of it, and I know that breaking through the cold water and hitting the warm air is one of the best sensations in the world, and well worth the feeling of the frigid water making me gasp when it first hits my thighs. (Come to think of it, it's a bit like sex....all tingling and gasping and surprises and shivers....but I digress!)
I will face my fear. I will learn to let someone in. I have no idea how, but knowing that it's me - well, that's huge, and I'm happy with it.
But I have fear. I'm scared. Someone could hurt me. If I love someone, they WILL hurt me - it comes with the territory even in the best of loves.
But I intend to learn how to let the right someone in.
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