I mess up. All the time. I generally just pick myself up, laugh a bit, make the best of it, and move on. I'm not used to having to be responsible to someone else's ideals when I create small disasters. I'm not used to feeling less than fabulous because of someone's opinions on what I should've done.
I know we all make judgements all the time. It is our nature. We choose our friends and loved ones based on judgements of their actions towards us and others. I have stopped dating men before not because they were horrible to me (no, for some reason I kept those men around), but because of how they treated people in the service industry. These judgements are the way that we surround ourselves with people with the same values, and people we feel we can learn from. I recognize that, and believe that process is important to our well being.
When those judgements become a daily feeling of failure rather than a way of seeing if you're the right piece for that jigsaw puzzle, it takes on a whole new meaning. Lately I've been feeling as though I can do nothing right. It has been brought to my attention that I have a temper, so I have been trying to work on that. When in the midst of a text conversation that was extremely upsetting, I decided to stop responding, sleep on it, and then write back, lest my temper flare and I hear, once again, how I am more like a petulant child than a grown woman. I was then told that by not responding until the next day, that I was rubbing salt in the wounds. I really messed up with my new cats. I mistakenly thought that I had a few months to get them fixed before anything would happen. My female cat is now pregnant with inbred kittens. I am literally living with an abomination. But what can I do? My cats, while disturbing, are adorable. The kittens will be, too. They may end up being deaf, or have horrible depth perception and walk into walls and stuff, but they'll be super cute and lovable. Her pregnancy belly is beautiful. The harm has been done. I am making the best of the situation. I have been doing okay with the situation and consequences until I had to tell my fighter. His reactions have not been as kind, forgiving, or supportive as mine are to him when he loses yet another fight, or deals with his heatlh conditions. I know he believes he is helping me to learn to not make these mistakes again, but it makes me feel so worthless at times. I still feel like I am growing by learning from him, but when will he learn from me?
I have always wanted a man strong enough to deal with me, but that doesn't mean I want a man that makes me feel weak. Well, maybe in the knees, but that's a different story.
Until I figure this out, I've decided that I may still need to see what my other options are. Or at least have some fun.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Thursday, February 14, 2013
A Female Turning Into A Woman
This is the first Valentine's Day I have had off from work in, well, ever. It's so odd to not be spiteful or ambivalent today. Not saying I've converted to the other side, far from it, but I am in an unusually good mood today.
My fighter and I have been doing well, which, of course, has me weary. With Greeks, when things go too well, we start to worry, because we're not lucky, we're cynics. The conversations with my fighter and I have become intensive, while remaining humorous. Things have been just good enough. Not suffocating, very sweet, and not scary. And that's when I got into my car the other night, smiling, that the thoughts came in.
Think about what you hear about the domestic relationships of fighters. At least the situations that make the news. Go ahead. Think about it. Do you hear stories like Rocky and Adrian, or do you hear stories like Mike Tyson and Robin Givens? Obviously, this isn't the first time that I have taken these thoughts into consideration, I just never did it seriously before. In all the relationships that I have had with cops, bouncers, security guards, and fighters, it's always been a thought at the edge of my mind, but never really needed centerstage. So I keep these thoughts quiet, to myself.
Then in the midst of a conversation yesterday, my fighter brought up the elephant in the room. How would I react if he ever hit me. I sat there, stunned. Here he was putting my biggest fear of our relationship on the table. He made it real.
This is a topic I don't even want to acknowledge, let alone talk about, but then what am I learning? He brought up this horrible possibility while we were talking about what happens if we take this to another level. (He wasn't bringing it up as foreplay or anything. Stop that!) What he was trying to show me is that it is difficult to be in a longterm relationship. That it takes work. He was using the worst possible scenario in order to make me understand that when you are dealing with someone else on a permanent basis, that excuses like tempers and irreverance don't help anything. They make things worse. I know he has no intention of ever hitting me. He clarified that extremely well. It was just strange timing, to be doing my errands at the mall, surrounded by pink and red hearts, while I had just spent hours talking with my kinda sorta boyfriend about what happens if he were to ever hypothetically hit me.
So why am I in a good mood today? Because, this conversation doesn't bode an unhealthy hidden relationship. This was a healthy conversation on a taboo topic between adults. I can't overcome fears if I don't acknowledge and face them head on, and it's nice to not have to do that alone. So here, on this Valentine's Day, at home by myself, I am not lonely. I am receiving love from all directions, including from across the planet, a voice message that makes me feel more feminine and beautiful just by the sound of his voice.
It's Valentine's Day. If a little mushiness isn't okay today, when will it be?
My fighter and I have been doing well, which, of course, has me weary. With Greeks, when things go too well, we start to worry, because we're not lucky, we're cynics. The conversations with my fighter and I have become intensive, while remaining humorous. Things have been just good enough. Not suffocating, very sweet, and not scary. And that's when I got into my car the other night, smiling, that the thoughts came in.
Think about what you hear about the domestic relationships of fighters. At least the situations that make the news. Go ahead. Think about it. Do you hear stories like Rocky and Adrian, or do you hear stories like Mike Tyson and Robin Givens? Obviously, this isn't the first time that I have taken these thoughts into consideration, I just never did it seriously before. In all the relationships that I have had with cops, bouncers, security guards, and fighters, it's always been a thought at the edge of my mind, but never really needed centerstage. So I keep these thoughts quiet, to myself.
Then in the midst of a conversation yesterday, my fighter brought up the elephant in the room. How would I react if he ever hit me. I sat there, stunned. Here he was putting my biggest fear of our relationship on the table. He made it real.
This is a topic I don't even want to acknowledge, let alone talk about, but then what am I learning? He brought up this horrible possibility while we were talking about what happens if we take this to another level. (He wasn't bringing it up as foreplay or anything. Stop that!) What he was trying to show me is that it is difficult to be in a longterm relationship. That it takes work. He was using the worst possible scenario in order to make me understand that when you are dealing with someone else on a permanent basis, that excuses like tempers and irreverance don't help anything. They make things worse. I know he has no intention of ever hitting me. He clarified that extremely well. It was just strange timing, to be doing my errands at the mall, surrounded by pink and red hearts, while I had just spent hours talking with my kinda sorta boyfriend about what happens if he were to ever hypothetically hit me.
So why am I in a good mood today? Because, this conversation doesn't bode an unhealthy hidden relationship. This was a healthy conversation on a taboo topic between adults. I can't overcome fears if I don't acknowledge and face them head on, and it's nice to not have to do that alone. So here, on this Valentine's Day, at home by myself, I am not lonely. I am receiving love from all directions, including from across the planet, a voice message that makes me feel more feminine and beautiful just by the sound of his voice.
It's Valentine's Day. If a little mushiness isn't okay today, when will it be?
Friday, February 8, 2013
What you will never find a card for at Hallmark.
My fighter and I have been going round and round, but it's not the type of arguments that you would think. He just found out his surgery was unsuccessful. He's still terminal, with an expiration date of anywhere from 6 to 18 months.
He told me last night, and started doing the same thing again. He's trying to push me away, but at the same time, he's so hurt and scared. He's so alone, and it breaks my heart. He is so much of what I have wanted in a man, and I'm most likely going to lose him. Not because he's dying. We're all dying. I'm going to lose him because he's scared of leaving me. He has stopped making connections with people because he doesn't want to abandon them when the time comes. He and I have been dealing with this from the beginning. He goes from talking about us traveling and how I would have to deal with his menagerie if we lived together, to pushing me away whenever he gets news about his health. This fight is heartbreaking because I am not fighting with him, I'm literally fighting with his heart.
I had a best friend that was terminal. (He's still alive, we're just no longer friends - a long story I may never end up sharing with you because in the end it's just not worth it.) He told me a few weeks after he found out he was terminal. I was the only one that knew, and that was there to help him. I was sworn to secrecy, and so I dealt with it by myself. He did the same thing, and started pushing me away. I was a wreck. The realization that if we had a kid 9 months from now, that he wouldn't be around to see that child take their first steps, let alone go to school, graduate, and get married is overwhelming. They will never see their grandchildren, never bounce them on their knee. They won't be able to hold your hand when you are in the hospital in your old age. I have dealt with these realizations before, and they still kill me, eventhough I can't even be in the same room with that friend anymore.
So now, with my heart tied up to a man that is pushing me away because he cares about me too much, I sit here again, in silence. Not sharing this pain with anyone for fear of dampening their day. Crying in the bathroom, alone, because the man I want says that he can see a future with me, except that there is no future for him to be had. And yet I fight. I fight with him to stop pushing me away. As long as he is breathing, he still deserves love. What does he have to do that is better than love someone for the rest of his life, and allow them to love him for the rest of theirs?
He told me last night, and started doing the same thing again. He's trying to push me away, but at the same time, he's so hurt and scared. He's so alone, and it breaks my heart. He is so much of what I have wanted in a man, and I'm most likely going to lose him. Not because he's dying. We're all dying. I'm going to lose him because he's scared of leaving me. He has stopped making connections with people because he doesn't want to abandon them when the time comes. He and I have been dealing with this from the beginning. He goes from talking about us traveling and how I would have to deal with his menagerie if we lived together, to pushing me away whenever he gets news about his health. This fight is heartbreaking because I am not fighting with him, I'm literally fighting with his heart.
I had a best friend that was terminal. (He's still alive, we're just no longer friends - a long story I may never end up sharing with you because in the end it's just not worth it.) He told me a few weeks after he found out he was terminal. I was the only one that knew, and that was there to help him. I was sworn to secrecy, and so I dealt with it by myself. He did the same thing, and started pushing me away. I was a wreck. The realization that if we had a kid 9 months from now, that he wouldn't be around to see that child take their first steps, let alone go to school, graduate, and get married is overwhelming. They will never see their grandchildren, never bounce them on their knee. They won't be able to hold your hand when you are in the hospital in your old age. I have dealt with these realizations before, and they still kill me, eventhough I can't even be in the same room with that friend anymore.
So now, with my heart tied up to a man that is pushing me away because he cares about me too much, I sit here again, in silence. Not sharing this pain with anyone for fear of dampening their day. Crying in the bathroom, alone, because the man I want says that he can see a future with me, except that there is no future for him to be had. And yet I fight. I fight with him to stop pushing me away. As long as he is breathing, he still deserves love. What does he have to do that is better than love someone for the rest of his life, and allow them to love him for the rest of theirs?
Sunday, February 3, 2013
C'est La Vie
I had a dream the other night. I was waiting for my life to begin. I woke up with the realization that I have been waiting all along. For some reason, it has been pounded into me that life doesn't really begin until you are married, and have a family of your own. What if I never get married? What if I am not blessed enough to have my own kids? Will my life never start?
But my life is now. I may never get married, and though I think I will miss the white dress, the flowers, and the pretty shoes that a wedding would give me the excuse to buy, I'm not sure I mind the thought of never being married. Many of the marriages that I have been around aren't happy, and I honestly enjoy being my own woman. I realized not long ago that part of the basis I have chosen most of the men I have dated lately is on the fact that they aren't here. I have become accustomed to dating men that are generally away so that when we do see each other it is amazing, and the rest of the time, I get to be me. I get to live my life. So if I am dating people that most likely won't marry me because of their careers, specifically because I want to live my life, but I am scared my life won't begin until I get married, then what am I doing?
But then I look around me, and I realize that I do have a family of my own. I have many children in my life, and I have my urban family, that are as close to me as my sisters. And I have my nieces and nephews, who mean the world to me. I am meant for what my life's journey entails, and a journey doesn't start midway through the trip when you hit a landmark. It starts at the beginning. And I have to admit, my life has been pretty amazing so far, and lately I have been able to do a lot of things that I wouldn't be able to do if I was married.
I do need to get over the fear of losing my identity by adding someone else into my equation. I am known to sabotage that. I will not be canoodling with my ex, at least not at this point. That's a toxic situation that would take me back a year emotionally. My fighter and I had a fun conversation last night, and though it will be at least six months until he is back here, and that leaves me high and dry for a lot longer than I can handle, that's life. Or at least I hear it's what marriage is like.
But my life is now. I may never get married, and though I think I will miss the white dress, the flowers, and the pretty shoes that a wedding would give me the excuse to buy, I'm not sure I mind the thought of never being married. Many of the marriages that I have been around aren't happy, and I honestly enjoy being my own woman. I realized not long ago that part of the basis I have chosen most of the men I have dated lately is on the fact that they aren't here. I have become accustomed to dating men that are generally away so that when we do see each other it is amazing, and the rest of the time, I get to be me. I get to live my life. So if I am dating people that most likely won't marry me because of their careers, specifically because I want to live my life, but I am scared my life won't begin until I get married, then what am I doing?
But then I look around me, and I realize that I do have a family of my own. I have many children in my life, and I have my urban family, that are as close to me as my sisters. And I have my nieces and nephews, who mean the world to me. I am meant for what my life's journey entails, and a journey doesn't start midway through the trip when you hit a landmark. It starts at the beginning. And I have to admit, my life has been pretty amazing so far, and lately I have been able to do a lot of things that I wouldn't be able to do if I was married.
I do need to get over the fear of losing my identity by adding someone else into my equation. I am known to sabotage that. I will not be canoodling with my ex, at least not at this point. That's a toxic situation that would take me back a year emotionally. My fighter and I had a fun conversation last night, and though it will be at least six months until he is back here, and that leaves me high and dry for a lot longer than I can handle, that's life. Or at least I hear it's what marriage is like.
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