I had lunch and coffee with my friend and ex-partner today. We talked for hours about everything under the sun. I am happy that we have come to the point where we can be friends. It was not easy. We loved each other, that was never the problem, but that does not mean that two people are suited for each other. We were not.
During the break up, I would ask her if she thought we would be friends down the line and she gave me an absolute and resounding no. I am glad today that she was wrong. I cherish her friendship. I am proud of where she is in her life. I cheer her triumphs. It is an amazing place to be, given where we were some years ago. We were together nearly 8 years (7 years and 10 months). I could not imagine walking away from her and never having contact with her again. I could not imagine us not being able to have a conversation. I am so glad that we have gotten here.
It was not easy or instantaneous. It took years. It took time, space, and mutual respect. I am always amazed at people who have a break-up and then, in the space of a month or two, are "friends". I mean some relationships can be this way, but often you need a period of time where the person is out of your life for a little while. You need to get your bearings and be ok.
There has been enough space and time for us to get past the drama. Neither of us are romantically interested in the other. We wish each other happiness and fulfillment. I know that my ex-partner would never disrespect my relationship; she knows the same goes for me.
I was dating someone who, I felt, was playing a game with her ex (who still had feelings for her). She would never answer the questions I had about that relationship. I have enough experience to know that what we cherish, we protect. She did not seem to think my concerns deserved a real, grown-up, honest discussion. The lesson for me was that whether there was something going on or not, I deserved to be respected enough for her to sit down and have the conversation with me.
I don't want games. I want someone who is able to be real with me like I am real with them. I want someone who can call me on my shit, and expects the same of me. I want a woman, who despite any labels, knows that we are both womyn. The point of dating is to get to know someone and allow them to get to know you. This allows us to figure out if we want to continue with a more serious relationship or not. How can you start a relationship without being real about who you really are and how you feel? Even if it is new to you, if you are faced with something different and it's clear that the games are not working, why not try something different.
Now I am ready to move on. I am praying that I can find someone real. I am praying that I can find my forever love. Someone not phased by my sarcasm, and who appreciates that I have no preconceived notion of who she is. I want someone who has a big heart, who is emotionally mature. I want for someone who will stand beside me like I stand beside her. I want someone who is affectionate. I want someone who understands that I like my space sometimes. I want someone who will love me curves and all; warts and all. I want a grown-up, sexy, intelligent, funny, relaxed, honest, forgiving, healthy, beautiful love.
Showing posts with label fresh starts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fresh starts. Show all posts
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Friday, January 26, 2007
Trying to Motivate Myself




I have been pretty upset with myself lately.
I still am not painting or writing. It is driving me crazy.
I miss painting. I miss my artwork.
I am finally not angry with myself about it. For a long time I felt that I had given so much of my energy to other people that I had neglected what was beautiful within me; and once I realized my mistake it was too late, my creativity had been left out in the rain and was ruined.
For years I felt that I had nothing to say.
Now, I feel that even if I did, who'd care to hear it?
So, these are a sketch from last years life drawing class, two old paintings (Salome and I'm Ready) and one more recent sketch (Red Corset) that still has not made it out of my sketchbook and onto watercolor paper.
I hate being stuck.
peace
copyright 2007
Could be filed under:
art,
fire,
fresh starts,
healing,
self-acceptance
Saturday, December 30, 2006
untitled
I don't know what to title this posting because I really don't know, right now, where I am going with it.
For Thanksgiving, my mother cooked most of the food and brought it to my house for dinner. The deal was I was to cook for Christmas. So, I called mom, verified that she was still coming and set of to purchase and cook.
I cooked food for about 8 people, even though I knew there would only be 4 of us eating dinner (holiday meals are no fun without leftovers). I had to be at work at 6 AM Christmas morning, so I cooked a little 2 days before, then most everything else on Christmas Eve. Whatever I did not cook, my daughter finished on Christmas while I was at work.
I called my mom's cell phone at 4:30 PM on my way home from work, got her voice mail and left her a message. "Hi Mommy! Merry Christmas! The food should be ready, I am about 5 minutes away from home so I hope you're on your way. OK, see you in a few minutes, I love you. Bye."
My mother NEVER called me back.
Not only did she not call me back, she did not come over for Christmas dinner.
She did not call the day after Christmas either.
My mother called my house on Wednesday, two days after the holiday and said:
"Hey. How long have you been up?"
"Well, all day."
"Oh, well, I'm gonna come by and drop some stuff off. I will see you later."
When she arrives, she offers no apology (which at 38 years old, I know better than to expect) and no explanation. I still have not even heard the words 'Merry Christmas' from my mother.
She is all grins like nothing happened.
So she puts gifts down.
I give her the gifts that have been under the tree for the past 2 days. I finally manage to calmly say, "We missed you on Christmas."
She says " Oh, I went with Sister to one of her co-worker's. He has a nice house. We had prime rib and duck with orange sauce. But, I didn't try the duck. It was really nice."
I am standing in my living room in front of my mother and daughter and I want to tell her to get out of my house. I want to know what the fuck is wrong with her and I want to ask her why she could not have told me that she really had no intention of coming to my house for dinner.
What did I do to her that spending Christmas with strangers was so appealing?
What the FUCK is that about?
I felt embarrassed. I look stupid looking for my mother to arrive at my home for dinner and she doesn't show up.
No, this is not about how it looked.
It is about how I felt.
For quite some time now I have felt that my mother has no use for me. I mean, yes, she's proud of me and loves me. She knows if something happened I'd be there for her. She knows she can trust me to do any financial transactions and would give her my last. My only purpose for my mother is to be there for her in case she gets sick. But, she has no real use for me. She could take me or leave me.
Actually, to be perfectly honest with myself, she could leave me.
And has.
I mean, how low on her list could I be if I did not even deserve a phone call.
And, yeah, I know....WAHHH! Right? I am crying like a little baby, but FUCK!
I am talking about my mother.
I am angry.
I think I am fair to be angry.
But it becomes unhealthy because I am angry with myself. How many times will I allow my mother to just do whatever to me and I accept it?
How long am I supposed to remain open to her?
How am I supposed to trust my feelings to her?
How do you only close the gate halfway?
I am kind of an all-or-nothing kind of woman. You're either in or your out. I trust you or I don't.
But with my mother, I love her, but I don't trust her.
I wanted to push the issue and tell her that she hurt our feelings by blowing us off for Christmas, and I did not. I knew that it would just lead to an argument.
But, what did I really avoid? I mean, I am angry with her anyway. I don't want to see her or talk to her. I am just LIVID.
She never apologizes. I have never gotten a straight apology from my mother. Her apologies are always Pyrrhic victories--you win but it costs much more than you would ever gain. What would be the point in that?
I feel like I did as a child, just so frustrated by her and like I belonged to another mother. I just had to belong to someone who had real feelings and empathy.
OK, maybe the name of this posting could be childhood. or depression. or anger. I recall now my first depression. Winter 76/77, we had a tragedy in the family, my uncle died in an apartment fire. We all lived in the same building. We came home from shopping for a Christmas tree to find our building fully involved and no one could get to Uncle Lawrence's apartment. That winter and spring I was withdrawn and sullen.
I was clinically depressed at 8 years old.
When I tried to talk to my dad, my mother would shush me, because he was grieving his brother.
When I tried to talk to her, she would not hear me or I would not be able to find the words.
I felt so very alone. I wondered why no one wanted to know about me. I wondered what was wrong with me.
Some days, like Christmas evening, I wonder, what the fuck is wrong with me that my own mother would rather be anywhere but here?
This has offered some clarity. Maybe there is more to my Seasonal Affective crap than just daylight and chemicals? Maybe I need to figure out how to leave the gate partially closed. Maybe there are reasons for my insecurities and feeling less than.
I won't go all Freudian and blame everything on my mother, but hell, I can see that there are some issues that I used to pass over as 'how she is' or even worse 'i just get a little sad', but there is more to it and I deserve to be honest with myself and see the whole picture.
Whatever it holds I am finally ready to see it all.
And by all means, if my viewpoint is askew(or in any other way: all off*, all wet*, all wrong, amiss, awry, defective, fallacious, false, faulty, flawed, inaccurate, incorrect, inexact, invalid, misguided, mistaken, off, specious, spurious, unfounded, unsound, untrue, way off, wrong number ), please tell me.
I was wished courage for Christmas, I think I could use it already.
peace.
For Thanksgiving, my mother cooked most of the food and brought it to my house for dinner. The deal was I was to cook for Christmas. So, I called mom, verified that she was still coming and set of to purchase and cook.
I cooked food for about 8 people, even though I knew there would only be 4 of us eating dinner (holiday meals are no fun without leftovers). I had to be at work at 6 AM Christmas morning, so I cooked a little 2 days before, then most everything else on Christmas Eve. Whatever I did not cook, my daughter finished on Christmas while I was at work.
I called my mom's cell phone at 4:30 PM on my way home from work, got her voice mail and left her a message. "Hi Mommy! Merry Christmas! The food should be ready, I am about 5 minutes away from home so I hope you're on your way. OK, see you in a few minutes, I love you. Bye."
My mother NEVER called me back.
Not only did she not call me back, she did not come over for Christmas dinner.
She did not call the day after Christmas either.
My mother called my house on Wednesday, two days after the holiday and said:
"Hey. How long have you been up?"
"Well, all day."
"Oh, well, I'm gonna come by and drop some stuff off. I will see you later."
When she arrives, she offers no apology (which at 38 years old, I know better than to expect) and no explanation. I still have not even heard the words 'Merry Christmas' from my mother.
She is all grins like nothing happened.
So she puts gifts down.
I give her the gifts that have been under the tree for the past 2 days. I finally manage to calmly say, "We missed you on Christmas."
She says " Oh, I went with Sister to one of her co-worker's. He has a nice house. We had prime rib and duck with orange sauce. But, I didn't try the duck. It was really nice."
I am standing in my living room in front of my mother and daughter and I want to tell her to get out of my house. I want to know what the fuck is wrong with her and I want to ask her why she could not have told me that she really had no intention of coming to my house for dinner.
What did I do to her that spending Christmas with strangers was so appealing?
What the FUCK is that about?
I felt embarrassed. I look stupid looking for my mother to arrive at my home for dinner and she doesn't show up.
No, this is not about how it looked.
It is about how I felt.
For quite some time now I have felt that my mother has no use for me. I mean, yes, she's proud of me and loves me. She knows if something happened I'd be there for her. She knows she can trust me to do any financial transactions and would give her my last. My only purpose for my mother is to be there for her in case she gets sick.
Actually, to be perfectly honest with myself, she could leave me.
And has.
I mean, how low on her list could I be if I did not even deserve a phone call.
And, yeah, I know....WAHHH! Right? I am crying like a little baby, but FUCK!
I am talking about my mother.
I am angry.
I think I am fair to be angry.
But it becomes unhealthy because I am angry with myself. How many times will I allow my mother to just do whatever to me and I accept it?
How long am I supposed to remain open to her?
How am I supposed to trust my feelings to her?
How do you only close the gate halfway?
I am kind of an all-or-nothing kind of woman. You're either in or your out. I trust you or I don't.
But with my mother, I love her, but I don't trust her.
I wanted to push the issue and tell her that she hurt our feelings by blowing us off for Christmas, and I did not. I knew that it would just lead to an argument.
But, what did I really avoid? I mean, I am angry with her anyway. I don't want to see her or talk to her. I am just LIVID.
She never apologizes. I have never gotten a straight apology from my mother. Her apologies are always Pyrrhic victories--you win but it costs much more than you would ever gain. What would be the point in that?
I feel like I did as a child, just so frustrated by her and like I belonged to another mother. I just had to belong to someone who had real feelings and empathy.
OK, maybe the name of this posting could be childhood. or depression. or anger. I recall now my first depression. Winter 76/77, we had a tragedy in the family, my uncle died in an apartment fire. We all lived in the same building. We came home from shopping for a Christmas tree to find our building fully involved and no one could get to Uncle Lawrence's apartment. That winter and spring I was withdrawn and sullen.
I was clinically depressed at 8 years old.
When I tried to talk to my dad, my mother would shush me, because he was grieving his brother.
When I tried to talk to her, she would not hear me or I would not be able to find the words.
I felt so very alone. I wondered why no one wanted to know about me. I wondered what was wrong with me.
Some days, like Christmas evening, I wonder, what the fuck is wrong with me that my own mother would rather be anywhere but here?
This has offered some clarity. Maybe there is more to my Seasonal Affective crap than just daylight and chemicals? Maybe I need to figure out how to leave the gate partially closed. Maybe there are reasons for my insecurities and feeling less than.
I won't go all Freudian and blame everything on my mother, but hell, I can see that there are some issues that I used to pass over as 'how she is' or even worse 'i just get a little sad', but there is more to it and I deserve to be honest with myself and see the whole picture.
Whatever it holds I am finally ready to see it all.
And by all means, if my viewpoint is askew(or in any other way: all off*, all wet*, all wrong, amiss, awry, defective, fallacious, false, faulty, flawed, inaccurate, incorrect, inexact, invalid, misguided, mistaken, off, specious, spurious, unfounded, unsound, untrue, way off, wrong number ), please tell me.
I was wished courage for Christmas, I think I could use it already.
peace.
Could be filed under:
fresh starts,
healing,
honesty,
invisibility,
self-acceptance
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)