Monday, May 30, 2011

For All Intents and Purposes

I've never claimed to have fond memories of high school.  There were some good times with certain people, and I always loved school, but you couldn't repay me to go back.  And middle school was even worse.  It was a period of time where you were developing friendships, practicing the art of relationships, and figuring out what your beliefs and principles were, under the influence of so many opposing forces and voices.  People made fun of me because I was smart (i.e., a "nerd").  They made fun of my skinny body, and my wild curly hair.  I will never forget having a good looking guy approach me, grinning, and saying, "Angie you look so pretty today!" and when I beamed with excitement, he laughed and said "NOT!"

There were people who would come to you with information they thought you should have, but after they'd delivered it, you'd find yourself unable to corroborate it.  Or you'd realize they had an ulterior motive for the exchange of information.  There were people you thought were one thing, and then when you found yourself in a different moment of reality - good or bad - they turned out to be another.  You would lean on people and then learn you shouldn't have, because they weren't going to be there for you when you really needed them.  There were people that were never there for you, and then suddenly were there for you in a heartbeat, posing as a friend.  But at the first opportunity they'd put the moves on you and you realized precisely what they thought you had to offer them.

It was a time of confusion, uncertainty, of inward examination and outward self-realization.  I can remember moments where I would enact a self-imposed isolation, doing nothing other than be cordial to others and go through the motions of my day.  Why?  Because I couldn't be sure who to trust, who to believe, who wanted to use me or take advantage of me, and who I could depend upon. 

I never wanted to go back, but today I realized I am back.  Sure, there are some definite figures in my life whose motives and intentions I don't question, but there are many others whose intentions are questionable at best.  I know who I am.  I know my personal truth.  It can be spun any way anyone chooses to spin it.  The people who matter will take the time to confront me if they have questions.  The rest will take others' words at face value and run with it, repeat it, even distort it.  And quite likely, they won't have my best interests at heart.

People tell me all the time what a strong woman I am.  I am.  Even though I have very weak, dark moments.  There are times I need to lean on others, to wilt, to check out...  There's one being I answer to, and I'm quite comfortable with where I stand with Him.  There are 2 opinions that really, truly matter - and those are the opinions of my children.  So if circumstances warrant that I return to the halls of my middle school or high school, then I've just made the decision to do home schooling.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

my shoes

if you've never had your future snatched out of your hands and lost the person you loved 6 weeks before your wedding date, lost the children you already considered your stepchildren, had to comfort your own two confused and distraught children all while trying to keep it together and go to work and take care of yourself and run a household every day like it or not....you haven't walked even a step in my shoes.

it's cold.  it's empty and it's painful.  it's like a death has occurred, and you're still here with all the memories and the hopes and dreams you had for the future.  the one person you can count on to comfort you is the source of your pain, and while you are trying to make peace with it all and seek closure, you can't stop yourself from wanting to scream at them, from wanting to hit the rewind button and have your life back, because, frankly, you were quite happy with it.  you keep thinking this is a bad dream, but each day you wake up alone in bed and realize it's not a dream at all.  you have to make all sorts of embarrassing phone calls to cancel your special day, to try to get whatever scraps of money you can get in return and salvage at least part of the financial loss.  you call the jeweler each day to see if your wedding band is in, the one you put your grandmother's precious diamonds in, not because you're in a rush to get it, but because it is one more loose end you need to tie up and gain some control over.

you see the looks of pity, you see their eyes roaming to your left ring finger.  you see the looks of avoidance, of discomfort because they just don't know what to say to you and therefore they pretend everything is fine.  or they point out how much weight you've lost, how dark the circles are under your eyes, and you know it because you see it in the mirror each morning and barely recognize it.

you have all kinds of armchair quarterbacks telling you what to think, say, feel, do...and the worst thing is you can't even figure out what you feel because it changes by the hour and you're so vulnerable and impressionable you can easily be swayed from one side of the pendulum to the other.

you just want everything to be okay.  but it's not.  you want to feel peace and comfort, but everything is in turmoil and nothing makes sense and comfort is beyond your grasp right now.  you move on with life in an effort to be normal, in an effort to be distracted, but life isn't really moving on at all.  you've stalled out and can't get it back in gear.  so you idle.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

ceaseless rain

my children are playing quietly upstairs, and i am sitting here alone, the rain coming down ceaselessly.  the dogs are staring at me as i cry, sensing something is wrong, staying close to me as if to comfort me.  the days go by, and i go through the motions, realizing that everyone is expecting me to fully participate in life, although life as i know it has changed forever and, frankly, i don't feel like pretending to care. 

my "go to" person is gone.  the person i had grown accustomed to sharing everything with, expressing my worries to, celebrating my triumphs with...is gone.  the person i could always count on to comfort me and hold me in moments like this is gone, and is also the source of my pain.  the future i planned for and believed in is gone.  my identity is in a state of flux, as i had identified myself as part of a team, part of a partnership dedicated to handling life together, dedicated to caring for one another and putting each other first.  now i find myself alone.  not completely alone, of course, as i am still a mother, daughter, employee, manager, sister, friend, neighbor....but yet i feel alone.

i have received the apology and the full admission of liability that i needed to receive.  but now i realize that, although it is helpful and good to hear, it changes nothing.  i'm still alone.  i'm still afraid.  i'm still confused and feeling so empty and numb.  it occurs to me that, about the time i should be on  my way to healing, my "wedding day" will arrive and interfere with the progress i should be making by then. 

i talk incessantly, to wonderful, wise people who have my best interests at heart, but i hear myself saying the same things over and over again, and of course no one can make it better or explain any of it, or erase it.  i don't expect them to.  but it gets to the point that you realize people are tired of hearing about it and they don't know what to say and so you feel yourself beginning to shut down and withdraw. 

i consider "band-aids" that don't make good sense, that aren't in my best interest.  i feel lost in a room with no windows or doors, constantly running into myself and all the painful reminders of what i've lost or maybe what i never had.  i move quietly past places where promises were made, embraces were held, life stories were shared, and dreams were born.  the silence is palpable.  the sadness is dense.  the rain is ceaseless.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

The Common Denominator

Looking back at the romances of my life, there is one common denominator, and that’s me.  If you think that thought hasn’t occurred to me, you must not know how self-reflective I am, how much I beat myself up when things go wrong, and how much I second guess myself in the times I am debating major life decisions, such as ending a relationship.  I’ve asked myself what the chances are of someone having my kind of luck in love, and apparently some of you have too. 

The men I’ve loved are in many ways quite different from one another, as those who know me can attest.  But in some ways, there are some key things that attract me to a man - positive things (hopefully that goes without saying).  There are things I look for – how do they speak of their mother, how do they speak of their exes, how much accountability do they take for the events of their lives, and how do they treat others, generally speaking?  I look for men who are articulate and communicate well and often.  I look for men who can express their feelings, fears, and dreams.  I look for loving men who are able to express love in a variety of ways.  I look for men who believe in God and who try to model their lives after Him.  I look for men who are good fathers or have good fathering instincts.  And so on...  There are things I look for as early exit signs, such as a bad temper, extreme jealousy, an inferiority complex, a propensity toward violence, lying, financial irresponsibility, narrow worldviews, disrespectful references to women, certain addictions, an absence of faith, etc. 

Sometimes, as I’m getting to know someone, inconsistencies surface.  There are things that don’t add up, or as a wise friend once said, “the words don’t match the music.”  I request clarification on such things.  What happens when I’m not satisfied with the answer?  I can assume I know best and that the person is lying.  Or I can give them the benefit of the doubt and try not to be so untrusting just because others have lied.  Sometimes situations develop or information arises that I’m not happy about.  Generally, I weigh such things against the sum whole of the person and decide whether to make an issue of it or not.  In retrospect, I sometimes wish I’d made a bigger issue of it rather than sweeping it under the carpet or giving the person the benefit of the doubt.  So in other words, I think I tend to be too full of grace at times.  I look past things.  I forgive.  I isolate incidences from character, rather than letting one situation or flaw define a person.  I do this in an effort to be fair, Christian, and open-minded.  But I’m beginning to wonder if that’s not such a good idea.   

I have very high expectations of others, but only because I have very high expectations of myself as well.  I work hard to be who I am, and I am constantly striving to be a better person, realizing I will never be perfect.  I let myself and others down.  People let me down or disappoint me.  Many times I don’t even let someone know when they’ve disappointed me – if it’s not a big issue.  And if I do choose to let them know, I try to approach it in a loving, constructive way, rather than attacking them.  I’ve grown a lot in that area.  I used to be so concerned about getting steamrolled that I went a bit overboard in bringing someone down to size if they trespassed me in some way.  I feel strongly about my standards and principles and I won’t settle for being treated in a lesser way than I would treat someone.  I’ve asked close friends and family if I’m too high with my standards.  The resounding response is that, if anything, I give people too many chances and perhaps am too forgiving.  I hate to think it’s time to be more judgmental and critical and less understanding and compassionate.

Finally, I’ve been asked why I can’t “just be happy” being a mother to my children?  Why must I have a man in my life?  Well, first I’d ask you if you want the same for yourself before you judge me for wanting companionship.  Maybe you’re in a relationship and asking this question of me (or anyone), in which case I need to write a new blog to cover that topic.  Second, I’d ask if you’ve been a single parent to two children, having them in your custody the majority of the time for 6 years.  Third, I’d ask if you’d ever ask that of a man – that he just be happy being a father to his children?  To me that’s like asking someone to "just be happy" being married and not want something more, like kids.  We each want what we want, and we can’t change that.  I believe God created us to crave companionship and a human connection.  Friends, coworkers, and family certainly fill many of those needs, and I believe every person needs those types of relationships in their lives, as well as a healthy dose of self love and a relationship with God.  If you rely on your significant other to be your everything, you’re going to be disappointed and they’re going to fail you.  If it’s selfish of me to want a best friend I can share my life with, someone to give my love to, someone to raise my children with, dream with, to confide in, cry to, laugh with, and grow with…..then I am indeed selfish.  Add it to my list of flaws that have contributed to my failed relationships.

Sunday, May 15, 2011

vacant.

Vacant.  Empty.  Formerly full, occupied.   Quiet.  Dark. 
Echoes of promises.  Flashbacks…or were they dreams?
Glazed over.  Numb.  Static.
This can’t be happening.  But it is. 
Lost.  Looking for answers, explanations… Hearing nothing but silence.
Feeling the things he said he would protect me from ever feeling again.

Saturday, May 14, 2011

Let Love

As I tried to explain to my daughter tonight, children get their sense of success or failure from school, sports, and/or extra-curricular activities.  Adults get their sense of worth primarily from their jobs, relationships, faith and organizational involvement - be it religious, volunteer, socio-political causes, etc. 

It is a shameful feeling to believe that you are not contributing to the people and causes that you love.  Feelings of worthlessness, humiliation, and shame can take over all logic and evidence to the contrary.  Even when those you love the most are reassuring you that you do have worth and that you are contributing in ways that matter to them, you might still believe otherwise.
A person with self-hatred and feelings of worthlessness is a sad thing indeed.  I have deeply loved someone who felt this way, and I tried in every way I knew how to show that person their worth in my eyes and their value to me.  I encouraged and supported, tried to motivate and be positive, but mostly listened and always firmly stated that there are many ways we contribute to the world, and that vocation and income are not a person’s sum worth. 
I think that sometimes no matter what you say, do, or demonstrate…if a person has their mind set that they are not worthy according to their criteria, you cannot convince them otherwise.  They may even turn on the few that support them the most, perhaps directing their own guilt onto others and creating a self-fulfilling prophecy.  In fearing the loss of what they love the most, they force life’s hand into dealing them a loss.
I cannot control other’s feelings or choices.  I can only control my reaction to them, and control my own choices.  At the end of the day, I bring what I have to the table and you bring what you have.  We either choose to lay it all out or we don’t.  And maybe we each walk away with exactly what we contributed, even if the “winner” leaves with less and the “loser” leaves with more.
What am I trying to say here?  I’m trying to say that if you are uncomfortable in your own skin and feel unworthy of love, but are lucky enough to have someone love you for who you are and not what you have, what you do, or what you possess….that I hope you will have the wisdom to keep that gift of love and acceptance, nourish it, and return it.  If you are the person loving the self-hater, you may be better served to allow that person some time and even space to come to terms with who they are and to learn to love themselves so that they can come to you as a whole person, able to love and accept love freely.  Or it may be a lost cause.  And no amount of love is going to change the end result.

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Punishment

Punishment is an inevitable factor in the equations of parenting and law enforcement.  But where is its place among adults when no law is broken, no heinous trespass committed?  Punishment is intended to give someone bad consequences for their behavior.  It can come in the form of withdrawal – be it physical absence, silence, revoking quality time, cancelling commitments to others...  It can involve revoking rewards, as in the employer that docks an employee’s pay or revokes a benefit, or the lover that becomes frigid and unaffectionate. 
What are we trying to do when we punish?  Teach someone a lesson?  Make them feel badly about themselves?  Or establish ourselves as a more righteous human being, desperately attempting to feel or regain a sense of power and control?  Are we trying to make someone hurt or suffer?  At what cost?  At what reward?
The goal of punishment is not always pure and well-meaning.  It often comes from a deeper place of insecurity, of our own projected guilt and shame we wish to pin on someone else, as we happily catch them in the act of what we perceive as a mistake.  And yet it often seems easier to dole out punishment rather than attempting to reach a common ground or even a moment of growth between two (or more) people as they explain their position and feelings and simply listen to one another with the prerequisite of good intentions and of course, respect for another person’s feelings.
Punishment has a way of disintegrating trust and loyalty - slowly, but ever so surely.  It intends to establish fear in another person.  Fear of losing an object, or privilege, or benefit that matters to them.  It also intends to produce shame and a sense of inferiority.  Do we really want someone performing or behaving in the manner that WE prefer only because they fear our reaction?  Or because they want to, because they care enough about their job or relationship or responsibilities to be ethical and rational and intelligent and to just do the right thing.  Mistakes will happen, as will misunderstandings.  People are human and they are going to let us down.  But the way we choose to punish others says far more about our own character than theirs.