Bitter, Party of One

Like most humans, there have been countless times in my life when things have - to say the least - not gone my way.  I've been in thankless jobs and thankless relationships.  I've had money that was owed to me withheld.  I've busted my ass and not seen the fruits of my labor.  I've invested time and emotional energy into friendships and romances where the other party has burned me in one way or another.  I've experienced life-changing tragedy. 

Feeling depressed, frustrated, hopeless, and even worthless are common reactions to these types of life experiences.  But sometimes I've gone beyond those states of mind and entered the realm of bitterness.  True bitterness - like "mad at the world", "don't look at me funny or I'll knock you out" bitterness...periods of time when I was convinced the world was against me, that I was a helpless victim of misfortune, and that no matter how hard I tried or how many times I did the right thing, things just kept going wrong.

Being bitter takes a lot of energy and effort.  I am constantly blowing everyone's "sunshine up your ass" advice and theories into oblivion.  I come up with a worst case explanation rather than being positive or giving someone the benefit of the doubt.  I assume the worst of everyone.  It's like planning an elaborate event: dotting every "I" and crossing every "T" just to make sure that the guest of honor at the pity party is portrayed as the ultimate victim and martyr.

In my experience, bitter is a shield put on to protect myself from further pain and suffering, but it only succeeds to disable me further and alienate me from the positive forces around me.  When I subscribe to bitterness, I essentially grant power to all the people, actions, words, and circumstances around me, rendering myself powerless, as if I am just a paralyzed pawn in the big game of life.  I rob myself of intent and purpose.  I excuse myself from playing an active role in my life, shrugging my shoulders and rolling my eyes as I float along on the sea of misfortune.

For awhile, bitterness can bring extra attention and coddling from those who love me.  I like the way that feels.  But eventually, even the best support network grows weary of participating in dead-end conversations that always circle back to my stubborn assertions that revolve around the idea that things are hopeless and it's "just not fair" and so forth.  When I refuse to be cheered up and shun the choice to be positive, I suck energy out of those that are trying desperately to be supportive of me.  As people drift apart, it becomes a self-fulfilling prophesy where I can point to their abandonment of me as just another example of the cruelty of the human spirit, the worthlessness of people, and the instability of relationships.

There is a lot of truth to the saying "you catch more flies with honey than vinegar."  Am I suggesting that we all be Mary Sunshine all the time and never get down and succumb to negativity?  Of course not.  We are human.  I'm just suggesting that the longer we hang out in the Land of Bitter, the more likely we are to be a party of one.

love is

Love is....hearing the rhythmic breathing of another human being and rejoicing in their moment of peace and rest, even when you are spending yet another night unable to sleep.

Love is....sharing when you have very little left to share.

Love is...getting up and making yet another meal and cleaning up, even when you don't feel like eating or being sociable, because "checking out" from your kids is not an option.

Love is...staying up late to put that forgotten load of laundry through another cycle so you can get yet another load done so your daughter can have her basketball jersey come morning.

Love is...giving your son the last cookie even though you bought it and you want it too, dammit!

Love is....calling MeMa just to let her know you love her and miss her.

Love is...letting someone else enjoy their show when you'd rather change the channel.

Love is...letting someone find the right time to tell you something you already know.

Love is...busting your tail everyday, no matter what, for the people that depend on you.

Love is....playing Pictionary with the kids when you'd rather read a book.

Love is...choosing not to add to someone else's burden.

Love is...what I do.

acting out

I remember when my kids were toddlers and preschoolers that the pediatrician told me they would act out for no apparent reason because they simply wanted attention. Even if it was negative attention, it meant that Mommy was focusing completely on them in that moment, and deep down that was all they wanted - to know that Mommy had boundaries and structure, and to know that I loved them enough to adjust and temper their words and actions into what I believed was acceptable human behavior.

I'm thinking that adults pretty much do the same thing.  For me, my acting out period was in the months and year or so following my divorce.  My definition of who I was and where I was going had been obliterated, leaving only jagged reminders of who I was and where I might be going.  So I acted out.  My perception was that almost all of my existing friends didn't know quite what to do with me or how to fit me neatly into their categories.  I wasn't one of the married folks anymore....after all, I was dating!  But I wasn't one of the single folks either....I had kids!  Two!  I felt their unease and drifted away, towards some new people who accepted my hyphenated existence and were willing to spend time with me, when what I so desperately needed was human contact and conversation, to feel I was not alone.

I won't say I went completely wild or anything, but I did choose to fill my time and company with things that hadn't had much of a place in  my life before.  The simple fact was, I was just like that toddler who wants Mommy's attention, even if it meant I had to get reprimanded or scolded or judged....just to know someone out there loved me - that was all I was looking for. 

This pattern plays out over and over again in other adults I know who go through moments in their lives where their identity is challenged or their sense of home is shaken.  They are drawn to those who will not challenge their behaviors (even though that's what they desperately need), and who will give them the attention they so badly crave.

Ideally, we all come out of our "acting out" phases, returning to ourselves, having learned a little more about who we are and who we aren't and who we want to be.  It's like deep down we all just need a little time out, to be put in a quiet place alone where we can reflect on what we've done.  But as for those time outs being one minute per age of life?  I don't know about all that......  :)

Two Thousand Ten

It's only natural at the end of the year to look back on everything that happened within the confines of the calendar year, reflect on our personal growth, and focus on the future.  In so many ways, one can view it as "just another year", completing another cycle of the seasons, reporting to work each day, maintaining friendships, family ties, etc.  But in so many other ways, for me at least, it can seem like a lifetime ago that 2010 began.

I have the same job I had a year ago, but the scope of my responsibilities has changed tremendously and my group of coworkers is not in tact as it was twelve months ago.  Some have moved on, and other new folks have joined our team - all of these changes irrevocably changing the dynamics of the workplace in both good and bad ways.

There are people I thought I knew a year ago who are no longer in my life.  There are people in my life whose existence was unknown to me twelve months ago.  And there are people alongside me who have changed tremendously, either voluntarily or involuntarily.

I was in a different romantic relationship at the start of 2010 than I am now.  I experienced disillusionment and emotional abuse, made choices to remove my life and my kids' lives from the wake of a human volcano whose eruptions were often unpredictable and destructive.  Now I am engaged to a man I hardly knew in high school, but who entered my life at a time where I was open to taking a small chance that turned into a huge investment and ultimately the best payoff I ever could have imagined.  We are engaged and getting married in 2011. 

I traveled to many places - three times to Virginia alone!  Once to seek solace and refuge in the arms of my family at a moment when I was feeling lost, wounded, and searching.  Once to celebrate the marriage of a beloved cousin who finally found her soulmate (and unknowingly spend time with my uncle for the last time).  And finally to memorialize my uncle who died unexpectedly.  I visited Baltimore for the first time and met some really neat people who made so many things in my life become crystal clear...  My work team enjoyed an incentive reward trip to Orlando where we shared fellowship, bonding, and the stress of making itinerary decisions as a large group.  :)  My college roommate and I enjoyed a trip to a free time share in the Bahamas where we did nothing but relax and rejuvenate and soak up the sun.  Finally, I went to Dallas for some work training.

We acquired a new pet - a turtle named Mrs. Relaxo!  I debated and designed a new tattoo but have not yet felt ready to commit to having it inked on me. 

I left a church where I felt inspired, my talents were being channeled to praise God, and my children were thriving.  The reasons for my departure were personal and tormented, but I took some time off and found another church that is very promising in terms of its breadth and depth and opportunities for reflection, growth, and servitude. 

As I stand at the threshold of 2011, I'm reminded of my visit to the Jamaican palm reader in 2008.  She told me with no uncertainty a number of things that were dead on and that not many people know.  She told me I was with the wrong man and to "keep flirting", and she told me that 2011 was going to be "my year".  She said it could be any number of big events - a career change, a move, a baby, or a marriage....but that something life changing would happen.  And here I sit and grin as I think of the promise and potential ahead of me.  All of us are richly blessed.  I'm just grateful I am in a moment where I recognize my abundant privilege and opportunities, and am willing to embrace the positive and stifle the negative.  Welcome two thousand eleven.  Are you ready for me?

the last single mother Christmas

Recently my boyfriend asked me to marry him and so I am acquainting myself with the idea of being engaged and eventually married.  It is an interesting place from which to stand at Christmastime.  You see, I have been a single mother to 2 kids for 6 years now.  Christmas has not been easy.  It isn't easy to find the energy to drag out all the decorations, address all the cards, buy all the gifts and wrap them, do all of the baking, and never once be able to approach any of these tasks by yourself without first arranging for a sitter.  There's no running out at 9 p.m. to get that ingredient you forgot for the Christmas cookies. There's no quick dash to Target for that one gift you haven't picked up yet - not without loading two kids in the car and taking them with you (not an option when needing those items at 10 p.m.!).  And when you are buying for them, that becomes a bit difficult to do in their presence, at least once they are past the age of 1.  Not to mention, it's the time of year you feel most nostalgic, most raw and exposed, and you have the emptiness that comes from not having a companion, which can  constantly remind you that much of the rest of the world is happily humming along and sipping steamy drinks all with a smile on their lips.  At least it can feel that way when you are alone.

It's been suggested to me that I ought to be happy just being a mother to my two kids.  Why do I "insist" on having romance in my life too?  My response to that is that we were all created to crave human companionship, intellectual stimulation, emotional validation, and yes human intimacy.  Otherwise, why not just make one human and let him or her enjoy this little planet?  Although I consider myself a strong and independent woman, I do admit that the most difficult part of the last 6 years has been not having that consistent "go to" person at my side, whether I needed an actual favor like brown sugar from the store or simply needed to know that I wasn't alone in this world.

I won't lie.  I'm thrilled at the prospect of knowing that every Christmas from here on out will be spent with my love by my side, in addition to the long list of other blessings in my life.  I am proud of myself for what I've done on my own.  I've managed to keep this house even in times where my income was less than anticipated.  I've raised two kids from the ages of <1 to 7 and 3 to 9.  My first night alone, I set the alarm for 5 a.m. so that I could change the baby's diaper, feed him his bottle, change both of their clothes for them, make breakfast, feed him and referee her eating, and get them to their day care and myself to work by 8.  It's comforting to know that I'll have a partner now.  Someone to help me care for the kids.  Someone to bear part of the load when it comes to laundry, cooking, cleaning, mowing, etc.  Someone to talk to after a tough day.  Someone to watch the kids if Mommy wants to lay down for a bit.  Someone to discuss big decisions with.  Someone to pray with.  Someone to watch silly TV with.  Someone to love.  Someone to love me.

If that makes me selfish, that's okay.  I've been called worse.

no "but"s

I am a lucky woman in that I have had the opportunity to be a part of many romantic relationships in my life.  I realized a long time ago that no matter how good a romance seemed in the moment, the cold hard truth was that it was either going to end or last forever.  "Forever" is not a word that I can fully comprehend.  Obviously I've not yet experienced forever, but you know what I mean.  I've been promised the moon, the stars, and even unconditional love and promises of forever, but the fact remains that my legal salutation is "Ms." and even if it were "Mrs." or if I was in a dedicated lifetime partnership (choosing to forego marriage), there are simply no guarantees.

With the ending of each relationship, I realized I knew a little bit more about what I wanted in a partner, and perhaps more importantly, what I did not want in a partner.  For instance, a mate with ambition and drive is great, but if they want to put me in a cage they are going to be disappointed with the outcome.  Finding someone with electric physical chemistry is lovely, but if they can't engage in an intellectual conversation with me I'm going to eventually become blinded to their more superficial traits.  A person I can laugh with is not going to meet all my needs if they can't be responsible in life.  Becoming a parent only muddied the post-divorce dating waters further (as if finding someone with whom you are supremely compatible isn't difficult enough), because it became essential to find someone who also could properly love my children and whom my children could love. 

I find myself in this particular moment in time feeling happy, satisfied, content, and at peace in my romantic relationship.  For the first time in my life, there are no "but"s - no red flags that nag at me, no unanswered questions that beg to be more closely examined, no issues I'm sweeping under the carpet in fear that I won't do better than this. 

I can't predict the future or make any guarantees, but living in a "no but" moment with a "no but" person is extremely liberating, rejuvenating, energizing, and it awakens a deep peace within me.

falling off the list

I sat down to start writing my Christmas cards tonight.  It's always an interesting moment - flipping through my address book and realizing how much can change in the span of a year.  Some names cause me to flinch, reliving the pain of a person's death since this time last year.  Some names need to be added because of new friendships, new love, or births.  But I'm particularly struck by the names of several folks who got crossed off my list because of relationships that ended.  Before I got to the "L"s I had crossed off three people's names, leaving the names of their ex (or soon to be ex) spouses and in some cases, their children.

I'm thinking about the choices we each make in our daily lives and how they impact others.  Thinking about the hurt and pain that several of my friends are experiencing as they pass through their first Christmas season without their significant other at their side.  I know how painful and empty it can feel to open that box of ornaments, seeing trinkets from places you visited together or reminders of the dreams you shared and the life you were building.  You go through your holiday rituals, unsure how to navigate, trying to create new traditions and better memories. 

I feel very lucky this Christmas because so much in my life is going well and contributing to my personal happiness.  But I haven't forgotten more painful Christmases.  It has always been a time of year that draws me to family, friends, and other loved ones, and has always sparked off nostalgia that makes me quite emotional.

I'm going to remember as I bask in the warmth and glow of happy times that others aren't so happy this year and that I've been that unhappy person more than once at Christmas.  I'm so grateful for my blessings and my luck, and my heart goes out to those who are hurting because of the absence of a special loved one - either because of death or because of the end of a significant relationship.