A Little Help From My Friends...

Now that I've decided to take a break from school for a semester, I can get back to some other things that I had put on hold...like writing this blog. And reading. So much reading!

Looking back over the last few posts, I can see the changes I've made. I can see that it's possible for me to be happy and fulfilled. But, that hasn't been my reality in a little while now. I'm back and forth, up and down. And the deeper I dive into certain issues, the more I uncover about some other issues. Sometimes, it really is easier not knowing the answers. I wish I didn't know where my anxiety comes from. I wish I didn't know where my depression comes from. Because, most of that is stuff that I can't get rid of. Most of it stems from people I will never be able to avoid...and don't really want to. So, I have to learn to live with it. I have to learn to deal with it and accept it and grow. And some days, I'm strong enough to do that. But, lately I haven't been.

I used to joke that I didn't have any friends. At the time, I had three good ones that I could count on. One of them turned into my boyfriend, I've drifted quite significantly from another one. So, I'm down to one legitimate friend that I can count on. One person that I can tell things to, and bounce things off of. One person to tell me to calm the hell down because I'm overreacting. But, now I have to figure out why that is. Why do I only have one friend left? I've been told "you hate everyone" more times than I can count. And sadly, that used to be true. I did. I hated so many people. I was angry at so many people. I didn't want to go out. I didn't want to hang out with anyone, because they pissed me off. I used to say I didn't like people because I was a good judge of character and I just knew. At this stage of my life I can say that a lot of that was judgment. I probably knew it then, but I was happier in my bubble. The less people I let in, the less people I allow to hurt me. I can assume that's what I was doing. I'd been let down by so many "friends" that it was just easier not to have any. It was easier to be alone and hang out with my mom on weekends. We didn't always agree, but at least I knew she'd always be there...in the best way she knew how.

It worked for me before, because even though I didn't have many of my "own" friends, I still had an insanely full social calendar. There was never an end in sight to the amount of weddings and baby/bridal showers and random parties I was invited to and had to attend. I was required at family dinners twice a week (two different families). It was a lot. And I made it a point to do it all. I expected a pay-off. I expected it to matter. And it didn't. In the end, it never got returned. In the end, they weren't my friends. They were his friends. My ex's friends. And when that fell apart, they were gone, as expected. But, I still had my mom...

Now that I'm living alone and my mom and I are dating (separately...that sounded inappropriate), it's not as simple as that anymore. She spends her weekends with her man and I spend mine with mine. But, what happens when he's not around? Where do I go when he has other plans? What do I do when he can't be there for me? Answer: I freak out. I haven't been easy to live with in the last couple months. I went back to school hoping I'd make some new friends that I had things in common with. And in the beginning, that's what started happening. My mind was opened up to all these new people and it was wonderful. I was having intelligent, fulfilling conversations with people I liked. For the first time. And the rest of my life slowly crumbled (as we all know). I couldn't maintain it. I couldn't be available to hang out with these people. I couldn't accept their invitations. Or, maybe I wasn't getting invited anywhere, I don't know. What I do know is that after two years, I still really haven't made any new friends. I'm still alone most of the time. And I don't have my mom to fall back on. So, what happened? What did I do? What am I doing wrong?

I look through my Facebook friends and see a long list of people I would love to hang out with. A ton of people I would love to get back in touch with. People who said "If you need anything, let me know" when I went through my divorce. It takes a lot for me to pick up the phone and ask someone to hang out. I assume I'm a nuisance. If they wanted to hang out, they'd call, right? No. Wrong. I've been told by many people that I'm "unapproachable" and "standoffish." I'm sure that's true. I don't leave myself open to much. I'm not the kind of person that's "down for whatever." I hate parties. I hate drinking. I hate smoking. I hate video games and sports. Large social interactions wear me out and make me tired. So, what are my options? I miss the easy days of middle school and high school where we could just pop in some lame movie and talk through the whole thing while eating popcorn and bad food. Does anyone do that anymore? And if they don't, why not? When did we all get too cool for that?

I know I have to put in the work. I know I have to put forth some effort. I know I have to make myself more available. And cutting out some of my responsibilities (like school) will make that a little bit more possible. But, hey, if you're reading this, and you want to hang out, send me a message. In the meantime, I have some people to get back in touch with and some social groups to join in order to find "my people." I have to put the anxiety and the fear aside and just dive in. It's the story of my life.

Normal is a State of Mind

Someone posted an article on Facebook yesterday that spoke against something I’ve always believed in passionately. I won’t say what it was about, but I’m sure most of you will figure it out before you finish reading this. It’s something that’s never been a part of my world. Something my parents never talked to me about, never acknowledged – they let the schools do the talking. It’s something I have always been fiercely against and never gave it a second thought. My friends knew about it, significant others knew about it. I was never even curious to learn more. And it’s something that has been gaining a lot of momentum in the last few years, forcing me to acknowledge my resistance and leaving me with an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach for the last year or so. Because, at this point, the truth is that I have to get used to it. I can no longer keep myself in the dark. I can no longer pretend it doesn’t exist and ignore that I’m surrounded by it. People have stopped hiding it from me. They’ve stopped walking on eggshells about it and have decided that they don’t care anymore. And it hasn’t been easy for me to adjust to. It’s caused problems with a few of my relationships and while I still don’t believe my feelings were completely unjustified, I know that my reactions were…uninformed.

I never thought of myself as someone who didn’t adapt well to change. Things are always changing. Nothing ever stays exactly the same as it was. That’s just nature. But, I don’t know that I can really say that as a fact anymore. Maybe there’s just been so much change for me lately that some things are just too much.  I’ve had to deal with things changing beyond my control – things that weren’t “supposed” to change, things that I took for granted and assumed would always be there. Those are the things I guess I can adjust to better – because I’m used to that. I’ve dealt with a lot of loss in my life. I’ve been to countless funerals in a seemingly short amount of time. That’s always the ultimate change. I’ve seen friends come and go – some return, most don’t. I’ve dealt with moves and divorce and my father’s various girlfriends over the years. But this topic, this one thing that I still can’t bring myself to say out loud for whatever reason is just something I never thought I’d have to deal with. It wasn’t an issue with my previous relationship. His views were the same as mine. We had an understanding. It’s different this time around. And I have days where the idea of accepting it as the norm is so overwhelming that I want to bail and run as far away as I can get. But, that won’t get me far, because it’s everywhere. I’m in the VAST minority it would seem and I’m having a lot of trouble coming to terms with that. I was raised pretty conservatively – not politically conservative, but traditionally conservative. Certain things just weren’t talked about or acknowledged or accepted. Or maybe they were, but I had such a fear of confrontation that I never bothered talking about it with my parents. I’ve learned a lot about my mom and her views on certain things over the last year or so and while I’m not entirely shocked to learn some things, I do feel like I spent much of my life afraid of nothing (my dad is a different story). I’ve felt ashamed of so many different things (not just this single issue) and I really didn’t need to. Was that my mom’s fault, society’s fault, or my own? Who knows? But, it’s difficult at my age to suddenly realize that everything I know might be wrong – that everything I was taught, or thought I was being taught is just not true.

My life has always been filled with order and structure and…well, rules. I never viewed it that way. For me, I was setting goals and “staying on course.” For me, it was pretty simple. Do what you’re supposed to do. But now, that logic just pisses me off. Because, where is the logic? Who decides what you’re “supposed to” do? Who decides what’s normal and what’s not? For me, what I was supposed to do and what I wanted to do were always the same thing. I was supposed to get married. I was supposed to buy a house instead of renting an apartment. I was supposed to go to college. And while college opened my eyes to a lot of things and exposed me to different mentalities (with my teachers and some of my friends), the others didn’t do much for me. I wanted to be married so badly and at this moment, I cannot for the life of me remember why. I wanted to buy a house so badly and it ended up being a disaster. I’m now living by myself in my own apartment and happier than I’ve ever been. I have a boyfriend who treats me well and accepts me exactly as I am, and yet I have no desire to take it any further at the moment. Why is it so different now? I’m happy with those changes. I’m happy with the fact that my life is simpler now. I’m happier not running around trying to please everyone and neglecting myself. But, why is this one thing still so important to me? Why is this the change I can’t seem to make? I’ve seen the evidence, I’ve read the studies, I’ve been paying attention so much more than anyone thinks I have – I even experimented myself. But, I can’t get there.

I suppose at this point, I’ve gotten used to just walking around in a state of confusion. The road used to be so clear to me. Everything was laid out and planned. Nothing was spontaneous or unexpected and I got used to that. And I guess a part of me still longs for that predictability. I didn’t feel confused before. I felt stressed out. I felt angry. And I felt unbelievably overwhelmed – but not confused. But, I suppose it’s because I never allowed myself to feel that way. I kept myself so busy that I didn’t have time to think. I didn’t allow myself time to question things. I never bothered to look inward (or outward) and see what was really going on – what was really important. My mentality was “this is the choice that’s going to get me where I want to go, so I’m sticking with it.” And that’s just…so stupid. There are answers outside that comfort zone. Answers you didn’t even know you were looking for. That pit in your stomach tells you you’re growing and you’re learning. If you’re not confused, you’re not doing it right. If you’re not scared, you’re not challenging yourself. And if you’re not at least a little bit angry you’re not paying enough attention. I had the anger part down pat before, but it was directed at the wrong things. I was so distracted by my anger at the people around me that I wasn’t capable of being angry at society. Because for me, the society I was living in, this bubble that I kept myself in, was just fine. I didn’t want it to change. It worked for me, because it was comfortable. And as much as I hate how confused I am and how terrified I am (still) on a daily basis, I know that that’s important and that’s good and that’s growth. I suppose someday I’ll get there. Someday this world won’t be so scary to me. Someday, my definition of “normal” will change and with that, so will I. And that doesn’t mean I’ve given up on myself – that doesn’t mean I’ve let go of my principles and my values and that I’ve lost the person I used to be. It just means I’ve evolved and without evolution, where would any of us be?

Square Peg in a Round Hole

A year and a half ago, someone asked me if I was happy. My answer was, "yes, I've never been happier." And I meant it when I said it. I had everything I wanted. But, only a few months later, all of that changed. I thought I would never be happy again. In fact, I wasn't even sure I ever had been happy. Maybe I wasn't. Maybe I never was. But, the illusion of happiness had been enough for me. I was annoyed that so many people said, "I never thought you were happy," because if I thought I was that should have been enough. Even if I wasn't, I thought I was. And that's what is so great about ignorance. It's "bliss," as they say. I have a much clearer head now, though. We all know I'm in a different place. And most of you have been through the journey with me, whether you've been following along online, or if you've seen the transformation with your own eyes.

Up until as recently as a month and a half ago, I was convinced I hadn't made any progress; in my life, in my thoughts, in my actions. I was told by several people that that just wasn't the case. I'd made a ton of progress and it was pretty ridiculous for me not to see it. It was the holidays, though. They were tough this time around. The first ones without my stepdad. And his absence was noticed. There was one less gift to buy, the pile under the Christmas tree was a little bit smaller - actually, there was no Christmas tree. Things were different this year. But, we survived. As a family, we made it through. And that's been the theme of my life for a while now - survival. For a year, I was treading water. Not going anywhere, barely keeping my head above water and getting progressively more tired. There were times I was certain I would sink before I finally began to swim. I don't even remember much of the journey. I just know there were a lot of tears, a lot of fights, way too much anger to measure and one emotional breakdown after another. And then, finally, the clouds cleared and the sun came out. But, even the sunshine isn't all good. Things are never "perfect." They're never the way we want them to be. It's never "ideal." Life is what it is and we have to constantly adjust, constantly learn something. Sometimes that means changing our way of thinking.

A month ago, I moved into my first apartment. I'd had an apartment in college, but I had three roommates and the rent was paid by my parents along with my tuition. I was hardly "on my own." After that, I moved back with my parents, then moved right into a house with my now ex-husband and then back with my parents. I'd never had my own space. I'd never had something that was just mine. It always belonged to someone else, or was shared with someone else. I never got to make decisions that only effected myself. I never had the opportunity to come and go as I please. There was always someone to check in with, someone else to look out for, someone to share my space with. I can't even remember how many times I said I just wanted to run away. I had nearly daily fantasies about running off to a cabin in the woods all by myself with a fire and a good book. The thought alone was my happy place. The urge to run was stronger every day. And while I never got to go to that cabin in the woods, I finally did get to be alone. I thought I'd be lonely living by myself. I thought I'd last a few weeks before I was begging my boyfriend to move in with me. Sure, I was excited about the idea of having the TV to myself and getting to read in peace and keeping the heat at the temperature I wanted. But, I thought there was nothing sadder than coming home to an empty apartment. I could not have been more wrong. This is, by far, the happiest I have ever been. I don't feel crazy, I don't feel stressed, I don't feel like I'm trying to fit in somewhere I don't belong. I never felt right, or normal. I always felt like there was something off about me. I always felt like I was the one that was just different than everybody else. I eventually just accepted that fate and dealt with the fact that I just was never going to have that many friends. I was never going to find that group of people, or that one person that just got it. But, that's because I didn't really know who I was. I had spent so much time living for someone else, making decisions for a ton of other people and none for myself. And once I stopped that cycle, it was liberating. I have this inner peace now that I never knew I was missing.

I was always so driven by the doubts of everyone else. I'm certain I got married because no one believed it would last (I had to prove them wrong). I bought a house, because no one believed I could handle it. My desire to become an editor was solidified the very first time I was told I didn't have what it takes. And while it still feels good to prove other people wrong, it feels better to prove myself right. Okay, so everyone was right - the marriage didn't last. It sucks and it took me a really long time to be able to say that I'm over it. It took so much out of me to evaluate what I did wrong and why I made certain choices, but it didn't work and we're moving on. The second someone said "I doubt it" to my prediction that I'd have a house before that year was over, I knew I had to make it happen. How dare you doubt me. And of course, I made it happen. And that particular house was bought because it was the only one the two of us agreed on. I regretted it pretty quickly. And now it's in foreclosure, which before would have thrown me into a blind panic, complete with hyperventilation and several acts of desperation. And now? I couldn't care less. I have my apartment. I have a roof over my head, I have clothes on my back and I have food in my fridge. Who cares that that roof is rented? Who cares that it's less than 600 square feet. Who cares that I have to walk up three flights of stairs? It's fine and I freaking love it! My own space...finally. Decorated how I want, filled with things I love, food I like and my favorite show on the television.

As soon as I stopped living for everyone else, I started to really live. I began to realize that it doesn't matter if other people agree with me. It doesn't matter what someone else thinks of my decisions. It matters what I think. I'm the one that has to live with the decisions. As soon as I set my own priorities instead of listening to my mom's, or society's, or friends', I began to feel happy. Inwardly happy. I don't feel that panic that I'm making the wrong choices. I don't feel anxiety about how I'm going to handle something in the future. I don't feel depressed that I'm not where I'm "supposed to" be. And I don't feel angry at all the people that don't understand me, or don't accept me, or don't believe in me. Because I believe in me. It's been so long since I've been able to see so clearly what I want. The dreams haven't changed. They've just shifted. I always wanted a career as an editor and a family. And I told myself before that I gave up one dream for another. I gave up the dream of becoming an editor so I could have a family. But, why should I choose? Why can't I have both? I can. And I will. And no one has to believe that but me.

My Year of Growth

Good grief, what a year! There’s a part of me that feels like this entire year was wasted, but I think back to where I was at this time last year and I know that isn't true. I’m a completely different person. I have different interests, a different mindset, even a different job. I couldn't go back to the person I used to be. And I wouldn't want to. I've learned an unbelievable amount about myself this year. I've learned what my motivations were, where a lot of my fears came from and why I thought the way I thought. It’s been a hell of a journey and a very significant one.

Two years ago, I was happy. At least, I thought I was. I was married, I had my own house and I was on my way to starting a family – which is all I ever wanted. Ever since I was a little girl, I dreamed of having my own family. As I got older, the number of children I wanted got smaller and the age I wanted them got larger. But, I always thought I’d be a mother by 30. Before that, probably.  I got all my ducks in a row. I went to college, got a job, bought a house, and got married. In that order. But, things fell apart quickly. I became bored. I began writing again, which led to me digging up feelings I hadn't touched on in a while. I became frustrated that I couldn't get the job I wanted, which eventually ended with me in grad school. And that was when things began to unravel. I started learning and growing and feeling myself being pulled away from this life that I had built. I finally found my niche. I was finally surrounded by people I had things in common with. I finally had people who understood me, who accepted me and had similar goals. And it was unbelievably addicting. I started coming into my own. My friends began telling me that I seemed like a different person. My goals changed. And unfortunately, that meant that my life began going in a different direction than I expected. The gap between my old life and my new life got larger and as desperately as I tried to hold on, I just couldn’t keep it together. It swallowed me up, and I landed in this entirely different world. Certain aspects of my life were better than ever, but other aspects – the ones that always seemed important to me – just didn’t have the same appeal anymore. I felt like I was being held back. I felt like so many things were open to me now and I didn’t have the opportunities I would have if I’d made some different choices. But, was that fair? Was it okay for me to suddenly change my mind about things I’d wanted so badly little more than a year ago? Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was completely unfair and incredibly selfish, but it was also necessary. I’d been trying so hard to be a certain person, the squeeze myself into this mold that everyone expected me to fit. I tried to be little Miss Housewife when I was home, doing chores, going shopping, cooking dinner. And I hated all of it. I was home alone most of the time. I spent my weekends tending to my house and my in-laws and my husband. I had zero time for myself. Or even for my own family. I was angry and I was frustrated and I was unbelievably miserable.

I’ve since stopped trying to tell my side of the story. I stopped trying to get those on the other side to understand. I wanted desperately for everyone to know how hard I tried. I wanted everyone to know how much I had loved my husband. I was embarrassed and I was scared and I was devastated. But mostly, I was confused. And when my step-father passed away two weeks after I moved back in with my parents, it was more than I could take. All of the control I’d had was completely gone. I’d worked so hard all my life to keep control. I had to know that, to some degree, I got to decide what happened in my own life. And that had been proven to me over and over again to be completely untrue. Holy. Shit.

During all of this, I somehow fell completely in love with my best friend. At first, it was amazing. My savior. The man who held me while I cried and picked me up when I couldn’t stand being alone in the house, or let me do homework at his house when I couldn’t deal with the screaming. The one person who had been there for me, through thick and thin, good and bad. He knew me inside and out. He knew my heart. And he loved everything he saw. But, it got serious very, very quickly and I panicked. What the hell? I wasn’t even divorced yet. What the heck was happening? Where did my friend go? Why is everything different? It was back and forth, off and on for quite a few months, before we got things back on track. I had to take a step back for a while and evaluate things. I had to let myself feel alone for a little while. I had to know what that felt like. I had to let myself feel the pain, to feel the loss, to truly grasp everything I had lost. Because I was afraid that I was trying to use him as a replacement. I was using him as my escape. We jokingly called his bedroom my “treehouse,” because it’s where I went when I ran away. And I didn’t want to do that to him. I wanted it to mean more than that. I didn’t want him to be my escape.

I had so many anxieties about the relationship to begin with. We causally talked about marriage and children and I kept thinking “I’m still married.” And then I pulled away, because I desperately didn’t want to be the girl that married every man she dated – a whopping two. I went on one date with someone else and he was a very nice guy, but not for me. It was an experiment for myself. I found him on a dating site and I put in all the qualities I was looking for – everything I thought I wanted. And it wasn’t right. I couldn’t see myself falling back into those old habits. I couldn’t see myself holding myself to those same standards I’d had before. Things were different. I was different. And what I was looking for in a partner was different. Things are amazing now. With the help of my therapist, this amazing best/boyfriend and an incredible amount of will power and motivation, I’ve overcome a lot of the things I was terrified of. Things that used to be so important just aren’t anymore. And that was another thing that was terrifying. I didn’t know what was supposed to be important and what wasn’t. For twenty-eight years I’d lived a certain way, had certain values, held certain things close. I had to shuffle through them now and re-prioritize. I had to figure out what was worth holding on to and what could be thrown away.

It’s hard to ignore the fact that once I removed all the negativity from my life, good things started to happen. I got a promotion at work and even though I eventually had to agree to a short sale on my house and ruined my credit for a couple of years, I’m finally on track to getting that part of my life together. I lost my step-dad and I can’t get him back, but he’s everywhere. We still talk about him and remember him and he visits me in my dreams from time to time. When he first passed away, my family asked me to write something about him to say at his funeral and I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t in the right mindset to write. And I surely didn’t know what to say in that moment. Now I’m able to wrote some of it down. He was a man of few words and while he certainly deserves more than a “few,” I think that’s all that’s necessary. He was a man who showed his love in subtle ways. He was never the kind to say it and he wasn’t affectionate, but when you needed him, he was there. He spent a week straight at my house when I first moved in, putting in new light fixtures and ceiling fans. He put in our new toilets, even though he despised plumbing. He dug up a tree in our front yard that I’d casually mentioned had died during family dinner. And while his temper was something I was always terrified of as a child, he was a great big marshmallow on the inside. When we threw him a surprise party for his 60^th birthday, he circled around the block before coming inside, because he didn’t want everyone to see his tears. And when I asked him to walk me down the aisle at my wedding, he didn’t bother holding them back. Even though he knew that would put a rift between me and my father, he agreed to do it, because he knew it was important to me. And when I told him I was getting a divorce, he stood by me and supported me and didn’t ask any questions when I packed my stuff up and moved back in. After a couple of beers one night, he looked at me and said, “I know I’m not your father, but I care for you as if you’re my own.” It was the closest he’d ever come to saying he loved me, but I knew what he meant. He was a good man who doted on his grandchildren, was proud of his family and absolutely adored my mother. All he ever wanted was for her to be happy and he did everything he could to make sure she was. I respected him and I admired him and I looked up to him and there’s no doubt that my life was better because he was in it.

Despite everything I’ve lost over the last year, I wake up every day thankful for what I’ve gained. Even though the circumstances aren’t ideal for it, my mother and I are closer than we’ve ever been. If you told me we’d ever be hanging out in her room talking about our plans for the weekend, I’d think you were nuts. If you’d ever told me I’d be standing in her bathroom with her, helping her straighten her hair, I would have laughed at you. But, we both lost our husbands at the same time, and while it was incredibly difficult in the beginning, we finally understood each other. We knew where the emotions were coming from. We knew not to take it personally when the other one was having a bad day or needed someone to yell at, or just feeling over all crummy. She’s come a long way this year too and she’s an inspiration. She’s an insanely strong woman and she doesn’t get told that enough.

Even though I’m back with my mother, living under her roof, somewhat abiding by her rules, I’ve gained a certain level of independence. I don’t have to be home to cook someone else dinner. I don’t have to be around for required family dinner nights, or spend my weekends running errands for someone else. My time is my own again. And most of it is spent with my incredible boyfriend, who I am more in love with every single day. I hesitate to say I’ve never felt this before, because that sounds like I’m discounting my marriage, but I can’t deny its truth. I feel more loved, accepted and secure than I ever have before. I know that he has my back. I know that he respects me. I know that he adores me. I know that he thinks I’m beautiful and that he’s proud to be seen with me. I know how important I am to him. It physically hurts the second he leaves the room and I cannot breathe whenever I see him smile. Whether we’re alone or in a crowded bar standing shoulder-to-shoulder with a bunch of strangers, we are the only two people in the room. And even if we’re just watching TV in one of our bedrooms, his existence makes it feel like an event. He looks in my eyes and I know that as long as he’s around I’ll never be alone. He holds me in his arms and nothing else in the world matters. He’s redefined trust and love and happiness and opened my eyes to so many different things. I know that I’m better because of him and I know that this last year would have been absolutely impossible without his unconditional love and understanding. I’ve stopped caring what others think. I’ve stopped worrying about what someone else is going to say about my decisions. And if we end up married (which I hope we do), who cares if I’m labeled as “the girl who marries every guy she dates.” Because I still believe in love and I still believe in fairy tales. No more looking back. No more dwelling on the past. No more wondering “what if” and “how come.” Because life is happening now. Good things are right in front of me. Everything I never knew I always wanted is here and this time, I’m grasping it. This time, I’ll actually get my “happily ever after.”

Birthday Reflections

One day, I'm going to look back on this past year and say, "I can't believe I survived that." And then I'll look back even farther and say, "I can't believe I used to be that person." It's somehow possible for it to be the best year and the worst year of your life at the same time. Although I've been through a number of things I never thought I'd have to deal with - all at the same time, no less - it's been mostly liberating. I've stripped away everything that brought me comfort and predictability. I allowed the structure and the foundation I worked so hard to build, to crumble - slowly at first, and then all at once. I suppose everyone has that time in their life when they have their own sort of awakening. Maybe it's an event that forces a new way of thinking, or a person that challenges you. Maybe you just finally get tired of trying to be the person you think you're supposed to be. Or, if you're like me, maybe it's all three.

I never had a "rebellious" phase. I always did what I was supposed to do, stayed out of trouble. I was always the friend saying, "I don't think that's a good idea, guys." But, while it certainly can't be called rebellious at my age, I'm done with that. I don't want to do what I'm told is right anymore. I want to do what I feel is right. And, unfortunately, that's different than what I've been taught. But, I have to suck up that fear of disappointing the ones I love and live the life I want. A similar thing happened when I stopped believing in God. I was raised on that belief system and it was strange to suddenly doubt it. It took me years to come to terms with it and finally admit my atheism. But, it works better for me and I had to admit that what was right for others wasn't necessarily right for me.

It's a difficult transition to realize your priorities. It's hard to accept it when you begin to question how you've been living your life. When you've spent your whole life trying to be a certain person, maintain a certain image, reach a certain goal - and you suddenly start wondering why. You have that moment (or many) of realization that you don't want to be the person you were before. When you've shed your old skin, your former life - and lost so many people along the way - and you're essentially left with just yourself, and you're forced to take a step back, analyze what wasn't working and realize you need to change your entire way of thinking - that is fear.

I walked away from a life I worked hard on. A life I put everything - and I mean everything - into. I walked away from a way of being that had been a part of my world for more than a third of my life. I left behind an overwhelming number of people I cared about - people I considered family. I knew I wouldn't make it through the transition with those relationships intact, no matter how badly I wanted to. I knew it would mean I was starting over - in life, in love, in friendship. That was my first step towards liberation, towards independence, towards freedom.

I had devoted so much of myself to this former life that I didn't have much left for myself when it all went up in smoke. I had less than a handful of friends who had their own lives, their own responsibilities and their own set of troubles. But it only takes one. All you need is one person to see you, to believe in you, and to want the best for you. All it takes is one person to see who you really are in order to get you to see it yourself. It takes that one person to accept you exactly as you are while encouraging you to figure out who you want to be.

I tried for so long to hold on. I had already lost so much - I didn't want to lose myself too. But, I was looking at it the wrong way. I wasn't losing myself, I was finding myself. And in order to do that, I had to let it go. All of it. The fear, the anger, the anxiety, even some of the happiness. I had this amazing guy and I had to force myself to walk away. I had to force myself to be alone. To truly start from scratch and figure out who I wanted to be. For once, I had to allow myself to be the girl who didn't have it all under control. I used to look in the mirror and tell myself that I could do it all. Whatever was expected of me, whatever was needed, I would be there. If I had three invitations in the same day, I'd figure out a way to be there for all three of those people. Until I finally just couldn't do it anymore. I was being neglected - not only by the people who were supposed to care about me, but by myself as well. And once I started making myself a priority, things started to fall into place. Once I started surrounding myself with good people, nice people, new people, I felt the weight of the world lifted. I have time for me now. I have time to read and watch my show and figure things out. Because I'm living for myself now. And I finally have the right support system. There are still days when I am paralyzed by fear and confusion - because change is scary. Adopting a new way of thinking, of living, of existing is probably the most terrifying adventure. But it's hard to ignore the improvements. It makes it easier to stay on this path when I hear at least once a day, "you look different," "you're in a good mood," "you look so much cuter without all that anger," etc. I know who I want to be now, where I want to be and what is really, truly important. And while I'm aware that I still have a long way to go to be that person, I finally know the way to get there and have the right people by my side to guide me.

Life is about growth and progress and evolving. And for a while, I shied away from all of that, because it meant change. But, I finally realized I was below the curve and had no one to blame but myself. So, here's to new friends, new love and second chances. Here's to change. Here's to starting over. Here's to life.

Journey Home

It's been a while since I've written anything, because it's been a while since my thoughts have been clear enough to form a coherent thought.  To those who know me, they know the last six months have been the most difficult of my life.  Two weeks after moving back in with my parents after my divorce, my stepdad passed away due to complications from bladder cancer.  It's been an interesting ride, to say the least, as my mother and I both try to figure out where our lives are now.  Thank goodness we've had each other.

I've been dating someone new for a couple months now and he's pretty wonderful.  We started off as best friends and I'm not the kind of person that believes in soul mates, but if they exist, this feels like it might be it.  That being said, it took me a while to get to that train of thought.  It felt right at first; the complete opposite of what I was used to, which was probably what I needed to get myself to understand that what I had wasn't right.  But, inevitably, I did begin to pull away.  My divorce was painful and confusing and really, really sad.  I am someone who is always in control, always has a plan, always knows what my next step is going to be; and now I didn't know.  I knew I'd be back with my parents, but I didn't know how long, I had no idea how long it would take my house to sell (it still hasn't...) and I'd never been single before.  My husband and I were together for ten years, since high school.  Where the hell do I even start to begin putting this all back together?  I tried desperately for months to maintain the control I always had.  I wanted to hold onto the things I still could; the same beliefs I'd had, the same opinions, the same principles and values and lifestyle.  I was so afraid of losing myself on top of everything else that I stressed myself out even more than I needed to.

Initially, I felt freer.  I felt less angry, I felt less stressed out, I felt more energized.  Several people commented that I seemed happier.  And even though there were still a lot of days at first when I wasn't sure I'd made the right choice, that always reassured me that I had.  How could I, in the midst of everything I was going through, actually seem happier?  I was miserable.  I must have been more miserable than I realized for so long.  What a difficult thing to come to terms with.  But, I did.  The new guy and I fought a lot, because I just didn't know what the heck was going on.  Surely, these things he's doing can't be normal.  I never had to worry about that before.  WHAT IS GOING ON!?!?  But, goodness, what a trouper he is.  His unending patience and understanding and encouragement was exactly what I needed at a time when I knew damn well I shouldn't already be in a relationship.  But, first and foremost, he was my best friend.  Secondly, he was my boyfriend.  And as long as those lines were clear and he knew when to be what, things would be okay.

I started seeing a therapist in April, after the most monumentally exhausting weekend of my life.  There was one emotional kick to the stomach after another and things were spiraling quickly.  The control was slipping and I still wanted to hold onto it.  But, how the hell do I do that when everything is so beyond my control?  That was the one thing I needed to learn for myself; to let go of some of this control.  There are going to be things I can't control.  And I have to learn to accept that, or I'm going to make myself crazy.  Gradually, things went from panic, to frustration, and finally to acceptance.  But, I didn't get to the acceptance stage until this weekend.  Or, I didn't fully embrace it until this weekend, anyway.

Last weekend, I went out with a friend and got drunk.  I know, for someone my age, that's certainly nothing to write home about.  But for me, it is.  I've never been a drinker.  I've never been drunk enough that I noticed I was actually drunk.  This time, I was.  And after I got over the initial, "holy shit, I'm drunker than I want to be," I felt really good.  I had confided in the friend that I felt like I was spiraling out of control.  I don't get drunk.  It's not my style.  It's not what I do.  And there were other things and other conversations and other thoughts that had been going on that I told him about.  His response was, "maybe you just need to let yourself spiral a little bit."  This came just weeks after another friend told me that in order to gain control, you had to lose control.  But, I'd fought so damn hard to maintain that control.  I didn't want to let go of it now.  But, the votes were in and they were unanimous.  I needed to let go a little bit.  I needed to loosen up, let my guard down a little bit and see where things took me.  My friends weren't going to let me get out of control.  They weren't going to let me get off track.  They'd be there for me when I needed to come back.  Maybe I wouldn't need to.

Once I embraced that, things didn't feel as crazed.  I didn't feel as panicked.  It had felt good to be someone else for a night.  And it started making sense why people might actually enjoy drinking, though I don't see myself being someone that does it regularly.  From there, I started embracing other things.  I started allowing myself to observe how other people do things and considering the idea that my way isn't necessarily the right way or the best way.  How awful a person I must have been.  There are moments now when I can't even stand myself.

This last weekend, while I didn't do anything crazy, I embraced a way of thinking that I normally wouldn't have.  Instead of feeling annoyed about being around people that thought differently than me, or dressed differently, or made different choices, I found myself feeling more accepted than I ever had before.  For the first time in my life, I didn't feel judged, I didn't feel like an outcast, I wasn't hating every minute of socializing.  I was finally feeling like I fit in.  I have no idea if it's because I changed the way I was looking at the world, or if it's because I was just hanging out with better people.  But, it was liberating.  And once I was there, I didn't want to stop.

I still feel myself having moments of panic.  What if this isn't the path I want to be on?  So what?  I'll figure it out.  But, I woke up today feeling better than I have in a really long time.  I've been angry this week.  Really, really angry.  And it's a deep anger that I've never allowed myself to feel before.  I went with it, because, as my therapist has told me, I need to allow myself to feel.  I've been working on that, so I decided to see where this took me.  And as I've been going over things and analyzing the last several years of my life, I felt angrier and angrier at more and more people.  And I know that sounds strange to a lot of people, but it felt good to feel that anger.  Because, in terms of my divorce, I haven't felt much other than sadness.  I was convinced I'd always be sad about it.  We hadn't had a nasty, angry divorce and we told each other we wouldn't.  Now, I'm not going to suddenly turn into the psycho ex-wife, but I ran with that feeling of anger and finally went through some boxes and things that I'd been putting off.  I separated some Christmas decorations and divided them into two boxes; one for him and one for me.  I got rid of everything that came from someone I didn't want any connections to anymore for one reason or another.  And when I was done with that, I went through all the boxes that I've had piled at my mother's house for the last five months.  It was obvious that when I packed them the only thought in my mind was "pack this shit up and get out," because they were a mess.  And I started a box where I threw everything that reminded me of him.  I took pictures out of frames, piled up photo albums and gifts and stuffed animals and anything that came from anyone he was related to or associated with and I threw it in a box.  I made the biggest mess I've ever made in my life and I stopped myself for a second to notice how this literal mess related to the mess of my life.  I had to make a mess of things in order to sort out the bullshit.  And when I was done sorting everything out, I felt better, I felt freer, I felt clearer.  I got rid of all of the things that didn't make me feel good.  I weeded out all of the negativity and packed it away.  It's gone now.  It's part of my past.  It's something I don't want to touch anymore, but will always be there, reminding me that I deserve better, that I deserve to be happy and that I owe it to myself to keep searching for peace.  I have no doubt that I've still got a long way to go, but I feel more comfortable in my own skin than I ever have in my life.  I'm finally surrounded by people that see the best in me and want to help me see it too.  I finally found the perfect balance between acceptance and control, and I'm sure that there will still be days when I want to run back to that comfort zone, but I like where things are going and I'm excited to find out who I end up being at the end of all of this.

Thank you to all of you who have stuck with me through this journey.  <3

New Beginnings

2012 is coming to an end and my life is nowhere near where I thought it would be.  This time last year, I thought I'd be buying a bigger house, maybe pregnant, getting ready to start a family.  Instead, my house has been put on the market, I'm boarding with my parents and my marriage is over.  I know there are a lot of people that probably think we gave up too soon; people that think we just threw in the towel.  But, it is undeniably easier to stay married.  No "taking the easy road" here.
I've never believed in much.  I don't believe in God, I don't believe in destiny or fate, or soul mates or miracles.  I have, however, always believed in love.  I have always believed that if you loved someone enough, anything was possible.  I suppose there's such a thing as loving someone too much, though.  You can love someone so much that nothing else matters, including your own happiness.  Maybe you're just not seeing the negative side of things, because you're so deeply in love.  Maybe you don't care that things could be a little better here or a lot better there, because love is all that matters.  I suppose we could say that's the trap we fell into.  We believed in love so much that we ignored everything else.  We never took the time to look inward and do some searching.  We never bothered to ask ourselves or each other if we were really, truly happy.
I know I spent a lot of time defending my relationship.  I spent a lot of time telling people that we were "different," that our relationship "just isn't like that."  I've heard a lot recently from people who claim that they never believed we were happy together.  And that's hard to hear, because for a time, I believed we were.  Maybe I was in denial, maybe I didn't think we deserved better, maybe I just didn't know of another way for things to be, so accepted things as they were.  Everyone wants to blame someone.  Everyone wants to know whose fault it was.  The answer is that it's both of our faults and its neither of our faults.  From day one, we had zero in common.  And initially, that worked in our favor.  It forced us both to try new things, to come out of our comfort zones a little bit and meet new people.  But, eventually, it caught up to us.
There were certainly days of denial early on.  There were several false starts, more than a few "let's try one more time"s and an unbelievable amount of tears.  It's hard; really hard; to give up on something you believed in so completely.  To spend ten years of your life building something, creating something, believing in something and then having it just disappear.  There are no words.  And maybe we fell into the trap that a lot of high school sweethearts fall into; "well, we've been together this long, let's just get married."  I wanted that so badly.  I begged for it, I cried over it, I fought about it.  And I finally got it after nine years.  And then, after a year and a half it's over...it's humiliating and it's heartbreaking and it's unbelievably devastating.  I guess there's a point in every failed relationship where both parties know it's over.  I know when that moment was for me, but I won't go into details here, as I'm sure he knows when that moment was for him.
I have days when I think we should have never gotten married.  I have days when I wonder how things would have played out if we'd made different choices before and after we got married.  There were so many moments in the last ten years that could have been game changers, and without fail, we always chose the road that would lead us to each other.  So why, now, are we choosing a different one?   We're too young to be in a marriage that isn't fulfilling.  We're too young to be with people that don't bring out the very best in us.  There was a process of grieving for all of my hopes and my dreams; and all of the children I haven't even had yet.  There are moments when I wonder how he'll make out and what will become of both of us.  I want him to be happy so badly that it breaks my heart to even consider the possibility that he might not be someday.  I have to believe that we'll both be happier.  I have to believe that he'll someday be with someone who plays video games with him for hours on end and rides every terrifying roller coaster at the amusement park.  I have to believe that I'll someday be with someone who can geek out over books with me and spend their weekends watching bad TV with me.  I have to believe that, because if I don't, I won't survive.  There are still some days when I have to remind myself that this is right and why it's right.  There are days when I picture us both years from now with our new spouses and the children we both always wanted and those are the images that get me through.  I still have days of unbelievable disappointment that I couldn't be the person I know he needed and days when I feel like we let everyone down.  We invited 130 people to our wedding...and every single person on the guest list attended.  So many people believed in us, were pulling for us, were cheering for us...and we let them down.  And logically, I know that it shouldn't be about anyone but the two of us, but emotionally I can't always get there.
I still believe in love and I still believe in fairy tales, but I know now that it's not the only thing that matters and it's certainly not the only thing needed to hold a relationship together.  Love was never the issue.  It was never the question.  It was never anything that was doubted from either party.  But, when the excitement dies down and things happen to make you really think about your relationship and analyze it and pick it apart, you realize things about yourselves and each other that you never knew.  You admit things that you never admitted, you finally stop pushing nagging thoughts aside and you start trusting your gut.  And when that starts to happen, it doesn't always end the way you want it to or the way you think it will.  Knowing it's right doesn't make it any easier.  And as sad as we both are and as terrifying as this new "adventure" is going to be, there are no regrets.  We followed our hearts.  We made the choices we wanted to, did the things we wanted to do and loved each other with a fire so bright that it blinded us to everything else.  I will never not care, I will never not worry, I will never not wonder and I will never stop hoping that he's happy.  I want so desperately for him to have everything he wants.  And I know that as long as we both learn from this experience and take as much as we can from it, we will eventually grow to be the people we are meant to be and find the people that complete us.
For the first time in my life, New Years is actually a new beginning.  So, here's to something different, hopefully something exciting and to finding our way on a path that isn't always clear.