The truth, finally

12/31/23

You know, it’s hard for me to figure out what needs to be written (and remembered) at this particular point in time. I think -and thank- the day and age I exist in because if not for the internet, and modern advantages, I would not have the peace and sense of validation I have in this moment. If I had experienced this life even 30 years prior, it would have been the “great mystery” of my life. I might have believed he simply died, or maybe that none of it was real, that I had believed a lie. I had been able to trick myself so fully, and be tricked in return: my faith in myself and my spiritual foundation never to fully heal. What a great gift I have been able to receive. Thank you teacher, this is my lesson.

I just finished this movie on my plane home from the holidays and I knew it would be a poignant choice. It’s about past lives and missed connections. It’s about two people who never get to know a shared life, not because of any particular reason other than it wasn’t the right time.

It’s like I needed to connect with others in the world who have felt the pain, confusion, love, and grief I have also felt these last 6 years; to witness and be witnessed by kindred hearts. As the years begin to accumulate, I am starting to understand what it is to hold time in your mind differently. The lines stretch longer and longer and the chunks that once felt infinite, are just small stones in the palm of your hands. What it is to acknowledge wholly the passage of time as it’s own definition continually redefines itself. Some part of me wants to call it wisdom, another part wants to call it folly. The plane quivers in the air as I sit buckled in my seat and I am in awe at the world and the different lives we live each day, in unison. How my truth is different than his truth and how we may never get closure beyond this very limited exchange taking place indirectly across the internet.

I now know my great love may never come to be. I have learned in the last week or so the life he has been leading and why he never returned to me after so many promises. I admit, as miserable and heartbroken as I was/am, he really did do the honorable thing. He may not have thought that deeply about it at the time but I finally appreciate the magnitude of the events he was facing and why he felt there were no words. I know why he disappeared. I know why he never replied to my letter. I know why he felt like he had nothing to offer. I know why he chose to be alone. I know why he let go of a dream he felt could never come to pass.

After all these years, I have finally been gifted inner peace. I can finally forgive him, myself, and my teachers for guiding me in the choices I’ve made since we met. So many things make sense in a way I didn’t have access to before stumbling into this new knowledge. It is precisely because of the timing and circumstances that I can gently hold the weight of it in both hands and see it from all sides. I can feel the edges, where some parts are smooth and others remain jagged and raw. Even the small grains of dust that may slip from my fingers do not diminish the fullness of my understanding. I was not the right version of myself at the time capable of appreciating the truth. If I’d known then what I know now, it would have been incomprehensible. I needed to live in the dark to see the light. The path moves backwards and forwards, and on the seventh day it returns. I wonder if I too gave away my magic turtle and how long I have been standing there with my mouth open.

I thank the world for waiting to share this with me. I hope, in time, more is revealed. Even if it isn’t, I can trust now that I am not meant to know.

It has been a lonely journey in many ways and I’m not entirely sure that I am able to seal off this part of myself that naively hopes for this great love of mine, which has lasted so many years within my dreams. It’s hard to selectively cleave away pieces something that close to you. I don’t know if I will really ever let go and maybe I’m not meant to. Maybe it’s that dream that keeps me moving in a certain direction as unseen forces push me backwards and forwards, like the wind. Trees only grow roots when forced to stand upright against the elements.

Maybe also, this is exactly what I needed to know in order to find the next version of me: the one who feels inner stillness and does not fight the wisdom of the world. I’m not sure. What I know now is all I have seen, felt, been, become. I am who I am meant to be, living a life I have chosen and been guided towards. There was no grand error or mistake. I did the work, I showed up, and this is my bounty.

I am filled with such a deep sadness for the possible lifetimes lost and connections that were severed without my conscious input. I also see that while it may not be up to me, that I must trust the wind; I must trust time; I must trust myself. My teacher has always said the messages are there for anyone who chooses to receive them.

Holiday Grief

    At the beginning of my holiday decision-making emotional rollercoaster, I think I was split on coming home for both Thanksgiving and Christmas for a few reasons. Maybe it was because of my promise to myself to never stop visiting family once my cousin died unexpectedly several years ago. It was in her memory that I committed to “always showing up” because it’s so damn easy to blow things off. It’s so damn easy to forget how finite life is, especially when you’re young.

I spent this week sleeping. On Monday I slept for 12 hours. On Tuesday, I slept for 10. Today, I slept for 9. I am finally feeling recharged and ready to move and so, I haven’t cancelled my tickets. I want to make a choice that I am confident in.

    My mom shared with me at the beginning of this thought process that she had spent everyday driving hours to see her dad when he was sick with cancer and how it had put strain on her marriage but that she had no regrets. She wouldn’t change a thing. 

    I called my mom just now and I asked her what the continuation of her thoughts were, looking back on that time, and she shared with me that she wished she had done what I’m doing now (taking time for myself) because she thinks she probably wouldn’t have relapsed. I’m not sure why that hurt so much but I found my eyes wet when I heard that and I suddenly realized that I am doing exactly what I should be doing, as someone learning from their parents’ decisions. 

    If the next generation is supposed to be better than the last, I should be learning from example and reveling in the strength and wisdom of myself. It is a testament to the trust built up between me and my mom all this time that I do believe her when she shares things like that.

    As my best friend said, I can rally. I have historically done it, and I can do it now. But would I be breathless at the end? Members of my family keep projecting their frustrations with familial obligation onto me and for a moment I lost sight of my own feelings. Obligation is not at play here. Obligation would be coming for a week during Thanksgiving break and not taking any time for myself. If not for the crappy airport transit, I would be there for the actual holiday and this wouldn’t even be a debate. Family in small doses is restorative for me, not draining. In order to burn the candle, I must fill the lamp with oil. I have just enough oil for a short burst of being surrounded by love. What a gift it is to have that sort of blessing available to me. Couch surfing for five days on the other hand sounds miserable. So, in December, I will be able to fulfill my obligation of being present for longer in town so that other people feel at ease. I would just like the record to show that if it were up to me I would only be there for Thanksgiving day and Christmas Eve/Day. Alas, I am an out-of-towner.

    My mom said that when her dad died, she had poured so much of herself into caring for him, when it should have been a responsibility shared by all of the family, that she had no energy to process what came next when he died. As my own dad navigates cancer, I can’t help but feel closer to them both and consumed by the inevitability of the fear of grief. Yes, I fear the loss, but I also fear the grief. 

    I know the taste of loss and I know how grief, unsatiated by its own existence, can swallow someone whole. It wraps itself like a second skin across your shoulders, weighing you down until it becomes common to shuffle from place to place, looking for relief in any form that shows up. 

    I wonder now, as I watch the hours tick down until I intend to cancel my flight, if that’s the pain I’m looking to avoid, or if it’s the pain of missing familial, familiar comfort. There is no peace in my choice because there will be suffering no matter the outcome. How do I reconcile my suffering? Which strength do I seek? The comfort of having the energy to process the grief when it does come, because I know it will? Or the comfort of having made enough core memories so that I can move forward knowing I have something to go back to when no more memories are possible?

    I don’t suffer from substance use disorder, so I know that relapse is not on my list of fears, but depression and anxiety and fatigue and inflammation are certainly there. Unhealthy coping and mood instability are there. Relationship strains and self isolation are there. Not being present at Thanksgiving is a natural consequence of living in a different state. Because it was my choice to move here, the weight of that choice feels heavier today but it’s okay. 

    I want my kids to be able to make choices that feel right for them. I want them to live long happy lives without too much stress. I want them to not worry about getting diseases as a result of fatigue and stress and poor coping skills. I want them to be able to regulate and practice good boundaries when the time comes. I want them to know that I know that they love me even if they decide not to visit for the holidays. I also want them to know that there will come a time when I will request they be present and that because I’ve given them so much space and trust and confidence in the past, that they should trust me to be honest. The tricky part now as I see it, is figuring out how to apply that idea to my own family. They are not honest with me when I need them to be and that’s probably because it’s impossible to be honest with yourself 100% of the time so I know it’s inhuman to do what I hope they would but I think that’s the important missing piece here. That, and abandonment issues. I hope my children won’t feel like they are abandoning me if they do not show up for the holidays. Because if there’s anything I’ve learned in my healing journey these last couple years is that while being abandoned is painful as hell, feeling like you’re abandoning someone else is excruciating.

Can’t catch a break (burnout)

I’m feeling so much stress lately (and today in particular) that it makes my skin feel weird. Thinking about the chaos and lack of security in my current world is not what I want longterm.

I can feel my chest beating louder, tingling in my arms, and my voice doesn’t sound like me. I can’t even feel my stomach. What’s that about?

The guy I’m dating now has a daughter and I knew I’d be third priority at best but we really haven’t been dating that long and he has literally no systems in place. Everything is new and I totally get that and I have compassion for him really I do. I could not live his life. Frankly, I wouldn’t want to. But when you decide to date someone, you are effectively “trying on” a shared life and I’m not sure I can do it. I don’t think it’s his fault or that my life is particularly less chaotic by any means but I feel like I’ve been in an adrenaline state for the last six weeks and I’m uncomfortable. I need things to change.

There’s so much outside noise I can’t even piece together what is what. I don’t even know him very well and I’m not sure how we get to know each other better with all this mud dirtying up the picture. Are we trying to fit a round peg in a square hole? Is this the universe’s way of saying: you are not meant to be and it’s time you part ways. Because it’s starting to feel that way, that there’s just too much shit. I don’t know what to think. I’m honestly just confused, sad, frustrated, and lonely again.

I suspect things would be better in time, but how much better? What should I plan for? Anything? At this rate, I don’t know.

A Sunday in August

Today feels like a good day to catalogue. Tomorrow feels like a good day to paint. 

In the episodic nature of my dating life, I’ve had the rare fortune of meeting a man who is full of vitality and surprises. It’s fledgling and I’ve had to remind myself it’s only been a few weeks at least half a dozen times. He feels so familiar and warm. At least right now, I’ve rarely had to ask him for clarification on a reference or a joke; it’s like we speak the same language. 

I can’t tell if this is one of those “when you know, you know” scenarios or not. I am really working on being emotionally available and vulnerable. Each time I feel myself holding back or withdrawing, I force myself to say what I wanted to say or stick around. I’m also working on reframing my thoughts so that I think, “people will stick around until they don’t” versus “everyone leaves until they say otherwise”. It’s a subtle thing but it means I do my best to be bolder than is comfortable, or natural, for me. 

It’s a very strange feeling being treated like I deserve to be treated. I can’t honestly say that I remember a time where I was woo’ed. And I mean, like thoroughly woo’ed. This man has done actually everything to try to impress me, and the things I like are the little ones. It makes me feel so sad that I ever accepted anything less or that I tried to make things work with men who gave me very little respect. The sadder part is that it was not because I have/had low self esteem but because I had never seen anything else modeled for me. Nobody showed me that this is what dating is supposed to feel like. Words mean little when actions speak volumes.

I’m finally beginning to understand what my ex meant when he said he didn’t have it in him to be in a relationship, because he knew what a real one looked like, seeing as his parents have been together for decades. It’s uncomfortable taking up space and being taken care of. I’m on antibiotics this week which means I can’t drink alcohol, and subsequently I can’t see anything other than the truth as I understand it. I can trust my anxiety, terror, sadness. I can grieve a little more too for the lessons I would have liked to have allowed myself to learn sooner. I can cry and sit with the loss and it feels like an important healing process. What an auspicious time with my creative arts program beginning so soon. 

I don’t know if this man is “the one” or if he’s just “the first” but I feel particularly fortunate at this moment in time. My duty to myself now is to make sure I set firm boundaries when necessary, speak with real truth (the kind where I say what I feel), observe how I feel, and reassess often to be sure I’m not squandering a learning opportunity. The truth is, I want to be in love. I want to find my person. I want to start a family one day. I’m not sure that day is any time soon but still, it’s nice to be able to be honest with myself about it. 

I still haven’t decided if the love I’ve known in the past is real love. Knowing now that I’ve intentionally picked partners that were doomed to fail, can I call anything what it is? I feel like this is the starting place and I’ve finally arrived. Or, maybe not. Maybe this is just another leg on my journey to self-discovery. 

“Every act of creation is also an act of destruction or abandonment. Something has to be cast aside to make way for the new”.

The reasons I grieve

I think the truth of why it hurts so much more and so much less this time might be that we actually did the work to make our connection stronger and foster our relationship. We took responsibility and accountability and made tangible changes. We worked on our relationship in the ways that we could, when we could. That is distinctly different from anything else I’ve ever been involved in. I wasn’t constantly chasing after him or convincing him or feeling like I needed to “show him the way” or take care of him. We were just living in the best way we both knew how. We had some bumps, and then we individually and collectively worked together. We weren’t perfect, and we aren’t the right fit, but I think we really tried. We didn’t have overwhelming passion to cloud our judgments, and with (mostly) clear heads and endless mutual respect we did that. It’s so sad that even with those pieces and hard work, it still didn’t solve the fundamental issues. We are the right kind of people for each other and yet, too different to find harmony together. We got so damned close. We tried so damned hard. We woke up every day and chose each other. We fought and we lost. 

I couldn’t figure out why I’ve been crying so much this evening because in my mind I know that we are making the right choice both individually and collectively, and yet I still feel so damned sad thinking about it. It is so rare to find someone who genuinely wants to do that, just “give it a shot”. That is so fucking special and important, and I think I landed on a great person who I wish was the right person and simply isn’t. It’s just a matter of circumstances.

I’m hopeful that because I now know it exists, and I sort of know what it feels like, that I can have a healthy, functional relationship. I don’t need to settle for any more partners who don’t fit this ticket. I officially have a bar set. For once in my life, I know what to look for and how to participate. For someone who has never witnessed/experienced a happy marriage or healthy relationship, I really didn’t understand what I should be expecting in my mates. I simply didn’t understand, and I hadn’t met anyone willing to teach me. He did that for me. We did it together, awkwardly at times, and callously at times, but we sure as hell did it. That is an unparalleled gift.

I don’t think he understands why I’m so affected by this revelation, and maybe he sees things differently, but I think at the same time that I’m being crushed by sadness it’s offset but unceasing gratitude. I am hopeful that I have been set up to find the right partner, just like I’ve done for so many before; that I have better tools now. I just hope it doesn’t take me another handful of years to find the right person for that kind of lesson again. I am so damned proud of what we accomplished (and didn’t) together. 

This is the first healthy(ish), adult relationship I’ve ever been able to witness or understand. I think I finally understand why I have such a young face: it’s to constantly remind me that I’ve still got so much left to learn and to be patient with myself because in terms of relationships, I’m starting from further back than other folks who had those things growing up. For all my life experience, I am seriously lacking in a lot of important areas. I feel like he took me on some charming and elaborate guided tour to see it. He was so patient (and so was I) with my inexperience that even when it got uncomfortable, we found a way through it. We made changes to our behaviors, modified language, and communicated. We were so intentional and cautious along the way that I don’t have doubts about the lessons learned or the bond we shared. Not only that, he was so honest with himself and with me that he pushed me to see past my own filters I wasn’t aware existed. He coached me. That kind of connection is so powerful. The trust and love we grew, we did with everything. We were rarely thoughtless towards one another.

Thinking back on previous relationships, I’m trying to see how they might have gone differently, knowing what I know now, and I just don’t see anything that looks like what we just shared over the last 8/9 months. I had to unlearn so many bad habits, build so many new skills, and he patiently allowed me space to do that. I know I did that for him too. How cool is that.

It sort of feels like the only choice we had left at this point was the healthy, adult one: make the implicit, explicit. I think in many ways I was pushing him and myself to actualize a future that wasn’t possible, and he was pushing himself to be someone he wasn’t willing to be. While that feels like loss to me, now that it’s over, to him, I wonder if it feels like an opportunity to relax and be himself. Maybe that’s how I should feel, too. I want us to have our needs met and to feel seen in the ways we need. Together, we just don’t do that in the right ways for each other. I know he’s taken away learnings too, like this certainly hasn’t been a solo experiment by any means, but I just want to take the time to fully understand and honor the actions we took to try to make each other happy. My heart explodes with affection for this human who interrupted my fantasies and placed a little more reality in my world.

I think I need to start reframing this experience as things gained rather than things lost, and maybe then I’ll finally be able to stop crying about it. I hope I am able to share these things with him in the future.

When hope is lost

Love and loss love and loss
My body hurts
And my eyes are swollen 
So red as I wake
I really do look as bad as I feel

Attachment is a terrible thing
Especially in the adult body of a child
One who never fully understood
What it is to be safe
And okay with absence

One who was not given a choice
But who has made that choice today

When someone comes around
Who’s special in so many ways

You want it to be true
You want it to be the right fit
You mold and adjust and pray and hope
You fold and combust and pay and mope

My body sways
And my tears fall
And I crumble in a little pile on the floor
Anything to escape the pain

I ride the wave
This one was closer to the mark than I’ve ever been
Should that be seen as a victory?
What failure am I truly mourning?
Is this my ego crushing me below its weight?

My head is as loud as my heart
Muffled in the wails
I know it’s right
We both know it’s right
And here I still want to make it go away
Fix it

I’m tired of turning pain into strength
Remaking it in the forge
Turning them into tools and lessons for the future:
For the next person

Is my brain recreating the truth?
Erasing my footsteps in the sand?
Disallowing me from moving forward?
Too afraid, I simply turn around?
Why do I mourn when I should be glad
That we can both move beyond this silly dream?

Maybe because I really believed the story
That we could overcome some dark demons
That we could fight them together
That we were truly partners in this life

I can hear his exhaustion
I can feel my own
Emotionally, I’m spent
Cancelling things and reaching out to friends

It’s almost as if I feel like 
If I’m not upset, then it didn’t really mean anything to begin with?
Is that the fucked up part of me that’s reliving my nightmares?

I’m allowed to be okay, and yet I’m finding every reason not to be
Imagining ghosts where there are none

I used to think

That humor was a tool to break the tension or lighten the load. Which I still believe to be true. However, I also know that humor can channel aggression, even hostility at times. It just presents itself in a way that feels familiar but is deceivingly unsafe. How interesting.

Woe is me; the holidays are hard

Today, I grieve for my childhood. I cry for lost attachment. I cry for lost memories. I cry and feel for the moments that should have included institutional knowledge. The ones where I knew how to give secret Santa gifts or learned about emergency appreciation thank-yous. I grieve for a childhood that wasn’t typical and think about the children in my life who deserve typical memories. I grieve for those who lost parents to cancer, incarceration, deportation, divorce, etc. I grieve for the lives affected by life. And I love them because I am a part of them, and I remember the loss and love them despite it. I send my love this year to those who feel the pain; who feel it like a stranger or a friend. 

Dazed and confused

I haven’t felt compelled to write recently. More like I haven’t pushed myself to catalog my thoughts, I suppose. I’ve been doing a lot of talking and not as much conscious, written processing. I’ve used art as a processing medium a lot more recently, but it’s not entirely the same as having a point of written reference down the line.

I’m in a weird spot. I am really trying to approach dating differently than I have in the past. I’m not trying to “fix” my partner. I’m really trying to get to know myself, my feelings, and see the person in front of me rather than creating some superior narrative in my mind. Recently, I have been feeling overwhelmed and sad periodically by comments my current partner has made. I know he’s depressed by his circumstances and I do my best to let them roll off my shoulders but even as I learn to accept him for who he is, I need to parse through what my feelings about the situation are so that I can address my own wants and needs too. It’s tough not reacting. 

I don’t feel confident or secure in my current relationship. I can’t tell if that’s because I’m lacking self-confidence (which may be partially true), I’m still in a place of instability in my new job (which is thankfully beginning to settle into normalcy), or he’s not the right fit for me. From the beginning, I feel like we’ve both been exceptionally cautious and thoughtful about each other’s needs, which, is something I’ve really liked. There is a level of intention here that I’m learning about in a new way. We’re slowly building trust and a pretty darn good friendship. Levels of intimacy are being explored to some degree. His presence in my life is comfortable and appreciated. We go on mini-adventures, explore the city, talk every day, and I really do hope that things work out between us. 

So for many moments, when we’re together, I forget to worry or focus on the future. I live more in the moment and remain observant. It’s during these times, when he’s been kind and loving towards me, that I feel confident and secure. I know that I am the only one who can give myself unconditional positive regard and that people don’t act pleasantly towards one another all the time, but my goodness, it’s sort of stressful trying to understand the rules of healthy, intimate relationships. Can a healthy relationship still cause stress? What is healthy? We give each other space, we spend plenty of time together, and we do support one another emotionally and physically. Why do I feel the need to question everything? We’ve only been dating for five months. That’s not a long time to know someone. It’s not exactly a short time, either.

Maybe that’s because every once in a while, he says something that gives me pause. Today he complimented me and demonstrated that he was protective of me and yet, he also addressed me as his “friend”. He wrote a song lamenting the loss of his job and his ex back in February (is that grief processing? Or unresolved feelings?) and sent it to me. I was hurt by it in some ways, and I’m not sure why.

I have been single so long that I don’t have anyone I lament. I’m coming to realize slowly that anyone I’ve lamented in the past, may not be true loss, since they weren’t real relationships to begin with. They were false starts, intended to bring myself temporary relief from my own discomfort but unsustainable in the long run. Is that what’s happening here too, or is it different? I don’t want to unload on him or emotionally dump all of these feelings, but I do feel the need to clarify what we are to each other; if he’s thinking seriously about me as a partner, or not in a space to do that.

I think he’s my partner and that we’re moving forward together most of the time, and then other times, like tonight, I feel fear that I’m creating another future fantasy in my head. I don’t want to be a second choice partner or someone that’s convenient. I want to be loved, and I feel that love a lot of the time. I see that he communicates in different ways than I do, but I try my best to honor when he does it. 

Am I doing it all over again? Making the same mistakes? Or is this something new and real? I can’t trust myself to know the truth after so many years of living in my head. I just wish something felt tangible and solid. So much uncertainty gives me a headache. Is this pain or discomfort? Is this anxiety or real concern? What gut can I listen to when I’ve been wrong so many times? Maybe listening to my gut is really the problem and I should continue to listen to my head? Or is that the opposite? Someone, show me the way. 

12/30/19

I’ve given you all of me

Every last drop of my soul

I pushed it all out of my body and laid it there

The mountains were covered in snow

And I remembered your birthday

You’ll never forget mine

My cheeks are stained with tears

And mimic the wounds of my shredded heart

Time doesn’t know how to wash them away

I’ve waited so long

I didn’t share it all

But I gave you everything

I’m home now

And I’ll return home again

Spring will be better, I can feel it