rewind

I'm so tense today I can't stand it.  It's the last day of final exams and I'm sitting with a group of kids I currently feel no affection for, because they pulled back a few weeks ago during the goddamned bullshit drama with the student council teacher and her active defaming of my reputation.

I've had no refuge from my strife, I've had no glimmer of hope, I've worked at home alone every evening, I've returned to work no more rested or restored than the day before, and I've come to face a group of people who simple take without giving.

I have absolutely nothing left to give.  I'm so fucking furious about being pregnant and having to wait to resolve this situation, three weeks, two weeks, one week, one day, a few hours.  Today is my consultation and ultrasound, but I can't schedule a termination appointment any sooner than 24 hours later, and of course they're closed tomorrow through Sunday.  That means Monday, maybe.  And next week is goddamned Christmas and I have to be available for family activities and drive my miserable ass up to Phoenix and keep my horrible secret all to myself.

I'm furious with Noah and I've had all kinds of angry conversations in my head with him.  I've vowed that this will be the last chapter in this goddamned Noah saga.  It's over.  I'm absolutely fucking fed up with being a crumb taker, being used and hurt carelessly time and time again.  I'm supposed to see him today for this appointment, and I anticipate that he'll pay for anything my insurance won't cover, which I imagine is next to nothing.  And then he'll have to be there for the procedure with payment in-hand, and then I want that selfish motherfucker OUT OF MY LIFE.  Permanently.  I don't want to hear from him, or see him, or pretend he ever cared about me.  I hate his fucking guts and I'm sick to death that I wasted an entire year hoping he'd change his mind.

I'm such a fucking fool.

This has been absolutely the worst, most demanding year I've had in a long time.

Another heartbreak.  A student suicide.  An obvious dead-end in a thankless job with unrealistic expectations and a pitiful salary.  An injury that prevented my regular exercise and eventually defeated my momentum in working out.  An unfortunate amount of weight gain.

And now morning sickness with a pregnancy that couldn't be worse timing with someone I want to avoid for the rest of my life.

Goddamned morning sickness.  It's literally all day long.  It's worse at night when I'm just trying to relax, and every little taste in my mouth makes my whole gut churn.  Luckily I've only vomited a little bit once when I was brushing my teeth, but I basically always feel miserable.

If nothing else, the morning sickness is what's driving me insane and making me desperate for this all to be over.  The sicker I feel, the more I hate Noah.

The more I feel like this is the bottom and I'm doomed.

The more I feel like I'm used up and this is the end of the road.

My consultation is today, immediately after the second final exam, and I want to throw away every moment between now and then to just get it over with.

This year, 2014, is going to end a lot of things.

big girl pants

Dear Diary,

I just turned 32, and found out I'm pregnant.

Though I feel remarkably at peace (rather than panicky) about the whole situation, it is an unexpected and unwanted pregnancy, and I am in no situation to welcome a baby into my world.

Yes, it's Noah's baby.  Since our encounters are limited, I know exactly when this happened--November 8th, on his birthday, when I shrugged and agreed to a booty call text after midnight.  He was so intoxicated he couldn't stand up, and didn't recall the extent of the evening that involved eagerly undressing me and finishing passionately before I could convince him to suit up with a condom.  That makes me three weeks along, and at least I have some options.

First, I have to tell him in person.  I hope he doesn't pull that, "Is it mine?" line that men are notorious for...I've let nobody else touch me in a year.  I also hope he is as understanding about this and as willing to help as he has been about everything between us so far; certainly this is more of a burden on my shoulders to cope with, but I know it isn't what he wanted either.

Second, I've got to contact some health care providers--because I'm choosing not to have this baby, I'm going to pursue the most responsible option (read: least shitty of all the shitty options) available to me, which will likely be medication abortion.  From what I've read about what to expect, this is not inexpensive, will include some serious cramping and bleeding from the induced miscarriage, and involves a lot of doctors visits.  Making time for that is going to be a pain in the ass, but absolutely necessary.  My job and all my accrued sick time are just going to have to work in m favor for a change.

The Universe is absolutely not fucking around with this one.  On an uncanny note, Lisa called at the very second that I peed on the pregnancy test, and as I answered I was watching the double lines develop--she is the perfect support and she was right there when I needed her.  Almost spooky.

The bright sides are that Noah is honestly the only man I've ever respected and loved enough to truly want a child with, so I'm not disgusted with myself that he's the one who knocked me up, and it's nice to know that I'm actually capable of conceiving a child, if and when I'm ready to carry to full term.  Also, Noah will very likely be a man and step up financially to help get me out of this mess, I have a two-week break at the end of December so I can probably avoid taking any time off work, and I have the support of three very close friends who will absolutely be there for me throughout this process.  I've got a responsibility to demonstrate success for them so that it doesn't freak them out, so they have a front-row seat to someone handling the whole thing maturely, and so they might be equipped to support others (or be supported themselves) in the future.

Besides, Lisa is aiming for med school with a focus in OB/GYN, so this first-hand story would most benefit her.  Also, I'm relying on her level-headedness to keep me steady, because Jesus Christ, hormones.  And my boobs are like massive, perky, swollen bruises.

Considering how miserably hopeless and depressed I felt up until this afternoon (moments before peeing on that felt stick), I find myself remarkably calm and seeing things in their appropriate perspectives.  I'm VERY GRATEFUL to be in an era where I have a Choice to pursue my own goals and independence.

So maybe 32 is going to be the year that I don't fuck up that opportunity with fear and doubt.  If I'm going to abort a baby in the name of my future, I should probably MAKE A FUCKING FUTURE for myself, right?

reconciliation

I am sad.  It doesn't control every activity I engage in, every expression on my face, or every interaction I have with people, but I am carrying a deep and penetrating sadness around with me every day.

I'm making peace with the fact that the situation with Noah was unsustainable, fundamentally unhealthy, and expressly laid out from the beginning.  There were points where he seemed like he was changing his mind about refusing to consider a long-term, serious relationship; maybe those were times he was actually on the fence.  He ultimately settled back on his original pronouncement that he was not looking for a girlfriend and that this was not serious.  I'm a mixture of disappointment and annoyance that I accepted the challenge of waiting it out.

I eventually became, for lack of a better description, addicted to Noah.  Spending time with him was calming, pleasant, and predictable.  There was never any sort of drama or conflict (between the two of us), which I was wholly drawn to, and I enjoyed participating in his many tales and adventures, whether he was relating them to me from his past or reiterating events I had been involved in.  The oral tradition was fun, and it gave me a role among the others in his life.

relations

Three and a half months later, the dust hasn't settled, there are no complete solutions, and this man that I am in love with is still actively contacting me.  I've told him--looked into his eyes and told him--that I love him and I probably won't stop.  I had hoped that this would convince him to either avoid me for a long enough time to start getting over him or recognize that he loves me too and doesn't want to play this halfway game anymore.

Either way, I need this saga to end.  I need finality.  My heart can't handle having a few days, a week, to scab over, only to have him reappear, jovial and interested, to tear out the stitches and rub the new scabs away.  I am so raw and vulnerable, and my heart is simultaneously full and broken when he reaches out to me again, when I see him, when we spend another night together.

I'm so tired of trying to guess his meaning.  He may require his "freedom" and want things on his fickle terms, but it is devastating me emotionally.

Here's where the challenge lies with me:  how and where do I draw boundaries to begin preventing this man from accessing my heart?  What a horrifying thought--to actively bar my object of LOVE from my life!  But I can make no progress with his weekly re-emerging.  What will I choose for my own safety, for my own healing, and for my own peace of mind?

Admittedly, it is slightly comforting to know that this man is unwilling and possibly unable to walk away from what we have had together.  He's doing it to himself, without realizing that he's doing it to me too, but I don't think he can help it.  Of course, it's a bittersweet condolence to know that he can't avoid his feelings for me.  It's his internal conflict that I can't quite understand.

It's really not complicated--either you love me or you don't.  You want to be with me, or you don't.  There is no middle ground, it is not sustainable, and I don't want something grey and amorphous.

I want someone who is not at odds with himself over loving me, seeing a future with me, committing to me.  I want someone whose heart swells and grows warm when he tells me he loves me.

I really shouldn't be so conflicted either--I could decide that this man who can't bring himself to openly love me or commit to me is NOT for me and continue on my way.  I could stop the self-destructive pattern of being cheerfully available when he comes around every week.

The thing is, whether he admits it to me or to himself, Noah obviously loves me.  He obviously wants to be around me, respects, adores, and values me.

My boundaries need to start growing in healthy places.  Commence...

get that ball rolling

there was never any question where my passion lay.  it has always come as an uncomplicated gravitation to the intricacies of living creatures, of their roles and interactions, and i've always paid close attention.  in fact it consumed my attention.

it consumed my compassion.  i have been a vegetarian (or at least mostly so) since i was a teenager.  protecting the environment, even in the small way i could contribute, even one animal or plant at a time, became my role.  i have felt a deep sense of responsibility to preserve the health of this fragile, deeply beautiful, and universally precious mosaic of life.

my entire education has been focused around learning these ecological relationships.  as a teacher, even as a substitute, my emphasis has been on recognition and reverence of nature.  as a biology teacher, i have had an exceptional opportunity to introduce and inspire many hundreds of young minds to how life works, while pitching my conservation philosophy.  i've always believed education is a cornerstone of conservation, and as these kids become familiar with molecular, biochemical, intra- and inter-species interactions, they appreciate and value nature.

i believe that the comprehensive approach to ecological conservation of habitat restoration and preservation, setting aside wilderness areas, encouraging community activism and involvement, and reducing/offsetting the fragmentation of habitats in urban settings by incorporating native landscaping, installing nature corridors, and emphasis on sustainability in planning infrastructures.

the present state of ecological conservation is based on complicated policies that are at odds with economic growth.  in order to participate and contribute effectively, i believe i must be familiar with these challenges and understand how to navigate through these policies.  i've had my eye on a conservation biology masters program for seven years, and in the time that i've considered and pursued many other programs, this path has only become more compatible with my goals and experiences.

i'm the only scientist in my family.  though my parents strongly emphasized the importance of education, they did not pursue post-graduate degrees, and so i will be the first in my family to earn a masters and then hopefully a doctoral degree.

my achievements have always been hard-won, because i set high standards for myself and believe in honoring what i believe in by pursuing my goals with integrity.  i worked full time and attended school full time, and am concurrently teaching high school biology and ap bio while finishing the last few courses necessary to earn a secondary teaching certification.  my experiences have humbled me and inspired me; even one person can influence a movement.  i believe this masters program can help me reach the potential of my strengths and to help me apply my experiences to a career in applied conservation/habitat restoration.

i am strongest in a dynamic environment with challenges that require creative, compassionate, and resourceful problem-solving.  i feel my strengths are very compatible with the pursuits of this program.

reconvening

I don't know.  The only comfort is that nobody knows what the hell they're doing.  Nobody's got the answers, or can give the perfect advice, or can fix anything for anyone else.  I'm definitely not pretending to be graceful or appropriate.

My heart feels this way.  It feels this way and sometimes I act on things without stopping myself, with little foresight (because I have none), and I can't hide my feelings from anyone.

So Noah texted me earlier this week, to say hi basically, but also because he was clearly thinking about me.  I welcomed his conversation and told him I was happy to hear from him, and that of course I've been thinking about him.  We chatted a few minutes, and that was it.  In my head, nothing has changed, it's still a hopeless situation with no future between us, and I'm centered and collected.

But that's not really how I feel.  I feel like my heart is exploding for him, I'm angry that he obviously cares for me and misses me, but that he's scared of a relationship, and I crave his tenderness and attention.

That craving overcame me, and I felt like really I could meet him for drinks to catch up and that it would be platonic with little trouble, because I really just missed his company and wanted to know about how he's been.  I text him after work a few days ago, and invited him to meet me the next night, and didn't hear from him.  I grimaced as I told a friend that I hoped he didn't reply, so it wouldn't end up being the obvious temptation that I might not be able to withstand.  I continued not hearing from him that night, and imagined that I might have lucked out.

Well the next day he did accept my invitation.  And he seemed to be genuinely looking forward to it.

I met him at the Shelter, picked right up where we left off, talked cheerfully and easily as old friends, and at some point he mentioned his dismay that a friend of his had given up on a relationship.  He emphasized how much he believed in relationships, and I stopped him.  "This...coming from Noah?"  He said he believed in them, he just didn't know what to do with a relationship.  I left it alone.

After a few hours it was obviously time for us to call it a night.  He walked me to my car, and I gave him a hug, which I neglected to pull away from.  So we stood there, for at least ten minutes, embracing.  We exchanged "I've really missed you"s and tightened our arms around one another.  He kneaded his hands into my back, and I worked my fingers into his tight neck muscles.  I said I was sorry for still holding on to him, and he said he wasn't about to stop me.  He sighed, and then said, "I'm half-tempted to suggest that we finish this backrub the right way at my house."  For a minute, I didn't say anything, but then I said, "If I say yes, will you say yes?"

"If you say yes, I'll definitely say yes.  It might be a huge mistake, but I would say yes."  He told me.  So we pulled apart and agreed to meet at his place.

Noah has always fallen over himself to do kind and generous things for me.  He insisted that I get a massage first, because he "owed" me.  It was so appreciated, because I really did need the work on my muscles, and because I could feel his heart pouring onto me.  And at the end of it, I just happened to be shirtless.  And then it was his turn, and I got to touch him again, and care for him and tend to him.

Being intimate with Noah has always been better when we were more sober.  I felt very present, because I wanted to experience every detail.  I needed it, his touch, his embrace, his passion for me.  I needed to have him wrapped around me as he fell asleep.

I don't pretend that this means anything for us, as if we might get back together.  He's still obviously in a bromance with his friends, and they serve as easy insulation in a pinch (read: when the fear of getting too close kicks in).  But I'm sorting it out again, from a much more complicated angle, because that whole night it was very obvious that this man loves me.  He mentioned in many ways how he likes people like me for a host of flattering reasons.  He said we definitely need to hang out more often.  He kept my self-portrait that I sneakily took on his phone a day or so after he got it.  He mentioned how he was telling his family about my brother's woes with a recall part for his hybrid, and how they had a big discussion about it.  He paid very close attention to my subtle stretching out my aching back, and insisted I explain why it hurt so much.  He told me how I ought to meet his mom, because she and I could relate to one another about our passion for art history.  He knows me well, he gets me, and he takes care of me.

And dammit I'm so angry that he's afraid of a serious relationship with me.  How can my feelings for him change?  I told him that night, "Noah, it's you.  It's you.  You don't like me saying this, but you're special."  And I mean that.  And of course he balked at it, but it's true.

Maybe I've fucked myself over by not being strong.  I don't know how I'm going to replace a man like him.  I don't know how I'd ever hope to trump the incredibly high standards he has set for men I date.  Hopefully this isn't going to leave me on the brink of tears for another two months.  At least the communication between us is a little more forthcoming, at least in the areas where it wasn't before.

I'm angry that the situation isn't any different.  Well, maybe it's different in some ways, like I drew my line in the sand, and I got things off my chest I should have done ages earlier.  But also, maybe he has gotten to see what his life is like without me in it, and how I was a good thing for him.

Anyway, the energy I poured unabashedly into him and his life and his social circle I am now reserving more for myself, my friends, my garden, and my students.  I'm dating a little and I've already seen how other men still can't compare to him.  I am trying to honor my center and my need to be centered.  I'm not going to obsess over this heartache forever, and I'm going to let myself heal, dammit.

But I think I can already see that I'll be in love with this man all my life.  Whether that means anything for our paths down the line, who's to say?  I'm nobody and I've got no answers.  I just want to love and I'm trying to survive my pursuit of it.

reemergence

Sadness has a particular weight, a palpable flavor, and a noticeable drag on one's momentum.  If one is fortunate enough to have supportive, compassionate friends who forgive the momentary lapse in bubbliness and positive outlook, who encourage one to embrace the sadness for its lessons and transformative properties, one might emerge from sadness a better, stronger person.

A long time ago...well, let's say it was just a year ago, actually, I went to the plant nursery and bought a large milkweed in a pot.  It had a thriving ant colony in the soil, it had blooms, and mature, ripe pods with fluffy seeds poking out.  I was so excited to start attracting native pollinators, in this case queen and monarch butterflies, to my back yard, which at the time was still at an undecided level of productivity.

I collected the seeds from the pod once I got home, put them in a baggie, and waited eagerly for signs of caterpillar consumption.  One day I found one!  A lovely little white-, black-, and yellow-striped creature clinging to a long, narrow stem.  I imagined this was just the beginning of a prolific butterfly raising farm in my tiny patch of earth.

The next time I checked, the caterpillar was gone, with no evidence of its transformation or clues to its whereabouts.  In fact, what I found was much worse--some of my plant was actually gone!  It was clipped at the base of the stem, a few inches from the soil.  Each day that I checked, more was gone, until I finally discovered that a wood rat had been destroying half of my back yard.  After a number of months, I was able to trap her and relocate her to the desert to make a life for herself that was less pesky to humans.  But my garden had taken a serious hit while she foraged daily; cactuses, pepper plants, okra sprouts, agave, and various other things were either severely damaged or completely demolished.  The milkweed was gone.

I had given up on my yard for a while; I wouldn't go out there and some other sad events made sitting in my own little space rather unappealing.  Grim.  My recycling overflow was basically the only purpose my back patio served for months.

Then spring came around.  The temperatures warmed up a little bit, some sunlight started making it over the building, and shining directly onto the soil.  I got inspired to start sowing seeds, watering, and cleaning it up a bit.  Feeling impatient for a result, I increased my efforts and planted more seeds, in a greater variety, and watered longer.  I planted the old milkweed seeds in the original pot with its compatible soil.  I put all manner of vegetable seeds in pots and in the amended soil I made, and I started composting my fruit and veggie scraps in the least productive section of my yard.  I kept watering.  I tidied up a bit.

I saw a few sprouts right away, actually.  The morning glories came first; they're so reliable and they volunteer themselves every summer.  My squash and green beans burst out of the ground.  My succulents flourished.  I spent more and more time barefoot and tending to these little green organisms who rewarded my attention with sturdy stems, broad, lovely leaves, and rapid growth.  My compost heap erupted cantaloupe sprouts, and the vines quickly and vigorously spread everywhere.  I was inspired to plant more seeds, including watermelon, okra, peppers, tomatoes, and succulent clones.  My yard was taking off!

It wasn't without hope, it wasn't just resting, recovering.  Taking the necessary time to deal with difficult conditions.  It was always going to rebound, in due time, with the right investment of love, attention, and resources.

I've been planting new seeds in my love life, too.  There was a little lag time, which made me worry that I wasn't putting the right vibes out there, that I wasn't being a positive magnet for my own experiences, but really I guess the seeds just needed time to germinate.  Time and the right combination of love.

My garden suffered when I stopped cultivating it; I could very possibly have grown winter vegetables, herbs, and fruits, if I had tried anything at all.  Instead, all I could focus on was what was lost and grieve over that loss.  But when I finally poured my loving energy into it, it flourished and shined love at me in return.

My heart has also suffered these past couple of months that I have been grieving.  My worries and doubts took over like weeds in my untended plot of land.  I neglected fighting them off, moving them out of my healthy space.  I took time to let my plot rest during the difficult conditions, and when it was time I began removing those weeds of doubt and fear.  I started showering my heart with love again.  I planted seeds of hope and gratitude, and trusted that they would survive.  I watered and they returned.  And now my heart is a healthy, lush, green garden of love and optimism again.  My garden is an extension of my heart.  Those peaceful vines and herbs and shrubs and tiny beasts occupying that tiny space are inseparable from my heart.

That love energy flows through and throughout.  The energy pools and sometimes is impeded but only needs some tending to flow freely again.

rehearsal

Please forgive me for this impersonal delivery--I ought to just talk to you like I always should have, but I'm scared of talking feelings and clamming up or stumbling over my words. I've got no guts. I'm an emotional person and I'm terrified that I'll cry my eyes out if I pour my heart out. This has been a month of painful heartache for me, since I'm just enamored with you but it seemed one-sided and I felt foolish for giving you my heart when you didn't want it. I adore your friendship, and had anticipated taking some time and space to pull myself together so that I could be a good friend to you, but seeing you everywhere and hearing from you has confused my heart, and I worry that I'm misunderstanding and misinterpreting your attention. I love being in your presence, and I'm so sorry that I do not have the courage to simply express something this important. I miss you like crazy, but I thought you made it clear that you had priorities that did not involve having a girlfriend. I wasn't expecting to change your mind on my behalf, but I realized that that's what I really wanted from you--your heart. I owe you so much more than this awful text message, but I am in limbo and cannot make sense of this in my head.

recognition

My mom has been prompting me to write this for over a week, an entry about the positives and the good times so that I can etch into my mind that there was a bright side to this deep sense of loss that I'm feeling.

Noah is a wonderful man.  He is a good and intuitive friend, he is an exceptionally hard working employee, he gets his affairs taken care of and he shows an obvious sense of allegiance to his family.  He is talented in countless areas--musically, with mechanics and electronics, scientifically, and in all manner of recreational sports and activities--profoundly so.  He can fix anything, or will cheerfully attempt to.  He is generous and friendly and kind to friends and strangers.  He notices details and is a brilliant problem solver.

Noah has incorporated me into his entire social world without abandon, sharing fishing and camping trips, social parties and get-togethers, sports events, relaxing at home and doing chores or various repair projects around the house.  He has involved me in his many excursions and tales afterwards.  I've been a part of the regular events in his life, and he in mine, increasingly for the last six months.

I have gotten to do a lot of amazing things I wouldn't have otherwise had the opportunity to do, like re-learn how to fish, see and camp in some beautiful areas in Arizona, and learn how to confidently shoot pistols, rifles, and shotguns.  I got to work on his old Suburban with him and never felt underestimated or incapable of offering any sort of help.

Noah stood up for me when I felt like his friend was just unnecessarily antagonistic with me.  He's been honest with me about his family, his past, his job, and his relationship preferences.  He gets my sense of humor, and respects my confidence and independence.  He has set a wonderful example of a light-hearted disposition with a high tolerance for stress and a very accepting attitude of the individuality of people...he is entirely non-judgmental.

So the unfortunate side of it is that I found this man whom I really think the world of, and he's made his mind up long before I ever found him that having a girlfriend just isn't his thing.  He told me this back in November and then again sometime in January or February, and then again in March or April, that he just doesn't want a relationship.  I really thought that I was okay with leaving it at that, and that my feelings for him could just stay where they were.  But I became much more attached and he didn't.  When I asked him a couple weeks ago what his feelings for me were, he repeated that he wasn't in this relationship on a serious level and didn't see himself really wanting a long-term girlfriend.  I tried to wrap up the conversation with my continued interest in dating him casually, but trying to re-calibrate my feelings for him to something less has been an impossible struggle and he didn't attempt to reassure me with any behavior.  In fact, I read his body language as becoming more distant and platonic.  He definitely reassures me that he things I'm so cool, which is why he bent his own rules and invited me into his life for this time.

But being an exception to someone's personal rule is not for me.  He's not enthusiastic about my company any longer, and often seems like he's avoiding my company in favor of his guy friends', and I am simply not interested in being a crumb-taker.

Naturally, I'm hurting, and trying to sort out what feels like grief and loss and what feels like anger over being dismissed.  It's a damn shame, because I think he's the very best guy I've ever dated, and other than his habit of smoking and drinking beer far more than he should, I can't seem to find fault with him.  He's my kind of man, and I'm so deeply disappointed to lose him...even though I can picture a possibly platonic friendship sometime in the future.

But here's the handful of important lessons I've learned (or am starting to learn) from this experience:

1. I finally had a healthy relationship with an emotionally healthy (and mostly baggage-free) man who treated me well
2. I attracted a good great man
3. Throughout much of this relationship, I enjoyed an unbridled sense of contentment with and respect for this man
4. I'm convinced that I did not make any mistakes, and that my feelings of love were real and well-founded.  I treated him the way I should have and I maintained my own personal and social life that did not depend on him.  I do not think that I misinterpreted his affections, either, because for a long time he embraced me passionately and--I believe--sincerely
5. As part of my own personal growth, I am more able to recognize when a relationship is not providing the things I need from it, and am able to say that I can have healthier expectations from relationships and maintain healthier boundaries
6. *This one I am still trying to internalize* There are good men out there, with whom I will have incredible compatibility and chemistry, and I will absolutely find one who falls in love with me while I am also falling in love with him....

I think this last one is a vital lesson for me to learn, because for a long time I have feared that my past experiences permanently warped my ability to be loved by someone else.  I can look at my experience with Noah as a practice round, where I got pretty good at maneuvering a relationship.  The universe is right on schedule, remember?  This is a key event in my timeline.

It was not a mistake that I loved him.  He is a good man to love.  Maybe some day his perspective of being attached and having responsibility to a partner will change, and he'll genuinely want a relationship to last.  It will likely not be me, but I hope he's learned a lot by being with me these last many months.  This is the longest romance I've had in years, the healthiest I've had in my life.

I can only see this experience as a gift, and for that I am grateful.

passion or dedication?

My very best and dearest friend Lisa tends to offer me the clearest perspectives and much-needed advice, especially when I find myself poised on the edge of another emotional cliff, terrified and desperate.

She reminds me, most often, that I tend to rerun those piercing doubts when I'm being flooded with fertility hormones (progesterone?  estrogen?  concentrated female panic?), and that this is a storm that is pouring directly onto my head, blinding me to its temporary nature and its imminent cyclical return.  It's still impossible to keep from getting wet, in the midst of such downpours, but I'm grateful for the suggestions to pull out an umbrella and wait...because she's always right.  She hears the same misgivings and fears, she knows my ups and downs, and she's well-aware of my prior romantic failings.

My best friend Lisa is moving to Texas in two days, and I'm driving there with her to get her situated (and to keep her company on this major transitional journey).  I've so far been quite at peace with the prospect of another extremely close friend relocating, because in the age of cell phones and email and Facebook, I've hardly lost touch with anyone despite our geographical shortcomings.  Certainly the closeness changes, but we're each on our paths, and I am absolutely convinced that Lisa and I needed each other these last three years.  We've carried each other through some incredibly difficult times, held each other sobbing, kept an eye out for one another when we were hurting or struggling, laughed ourselves to tears, and learned as much as possible about ourselves and each other.  We've become sisters; this is someone who shares my spirit and my love and who does not judge me, even when I'm fully expecting judgment.

And today she told me not to forget this, and I need to write it down here so that in a couple weeks when I am drowning in hormones and panic, I can revisit these words and remember that the Universe is right on schedule:

This past holiday weekend, I spent nearly every hour of four consecutive days with Noah.  He invited me over, hosted a huge party/fish fry, cooked food, included me in/let me help with his projects, mentioned in passing that he brags about me to his coworkers, never once acted like he wanted to be alone or free of me, and had long conversations with me about anything that came up.

He and I went to his friend's house on Sunday, where we drank and watched HBO and chatted about life.  He and I did chores around his house on Monday, looking for projects to work on, and then drove out of town to rescue his friend (read: bring new radiator hose and coolant) who had broken down on the way to a family vacation in Pine Top, and then we got pulled over on the way back and yucked it up afterwards on the way home that it went so smoothly and that he was treated so kindly by the highway patrol.

And on Tuesday, I invited several friends out to a favorite bar and asked if Noah would like to meet up with us.  He was so enthusiastic that he invited several of his own friends to join us, and we all had a romping good time that night!

Here's the major point that Lisa made:  at this point, I should be done fretting about What This Means, because this man, who moves at his own pace and speaks his own love languages, is gradually but deliberately incorporating me into his life; mentioning me to his family and coworkers, including me in his major (and minor) activities, and not only eagerly meeting my friends but also meshing our social circles...men who don't want women around don't start implanting them into so many facets of their lives.

And so it is this point where I should start focusing more specifically on being a wonderful half of a wonderful relationship, that is official and legitimate and happy and possesses some sustaining potential.  I should focus on being centered, fulfilled, generous, cheerful, positive, and patient.

She mentioned a recent encounter with an OKCupid question inquiring, "What's more important for a relationship, passion or dedication?"  I've had plenty of passionate relationships, and I've always been left with my heart spent and my head spinning.  She compared it to logs on a fire; the little branches certainly ignite quickly and burn brightly, but they are short-lived and gone in minutes, while the logs take a while to catch and then a promising smolder develops, followed by increased warmth and light.

While I'm waiting for that language that I recognize, with words in sentences that I understand, the ways this man shares himself even more deeply, more earnestly, are more rooted in his actions and his time.  In dedication.  And it's almost like I don't know what loving dedication feels like, so I'll need to learn this language.

***

As a P.S., I asked Noah if he could burn me a NIN cd that I don't have, and he hustled right into his room and onto his computer to find it, but several minutes later had not accomplished it...so instead he simply unplugged his hard drive, in fact TWO of his hard drives, and handed them right over.  He said there were years of photographs on there, and who knows what else, and he just places them in my hands without a thought.  If I didn't feel like I'd be dancing out to the end of the most vulnerable twig of a branch possible, I would gush all day TO HIM about how madly in love with him I am, because it wells up in my chest and trickles out my tear ducts and stuffs up my nose... but he knows it, he knows I'm in love with him, and he hasn't pushed me away and he hasn't eased me out, he's given me an ever-more involved role in his world and I know he does exactly what he wants deliberately.

I'm almost embarrassed to plug his hard drive into my computer, and I certainly don't feel comfortable snooping through his photo albums.  But in essence, the man did give me carte blanche, so I hope I don't disappoint him!

being patient

I just read these words, "When we are impatient, we are in a hurry for things to be diffferent," and it hit me like a mass of air.

A month ago, I wrote in here that I wasn't going to "bop around and declare my love" for Noah, but since then I have mustered to courage to tell him directly, when I was sober (and terrified), that I really loved him.  He has not returned the declaration, but he hasn't been any less loving to me.  He's been more so, in fact.

My worries are that expressing that I am really in love with him will make him feel uncomfortable and he is being pressured to say it back to me.  He's really not the kind of person who gushes all over, but he is straightforward and articulate when he means to be.  He treats me with respect, does things I ask him to, makes time for me almost every time I request his company (which is surprising because I'm not used to that at all!), is affectionate in public, tries to make me feel better if I'm really down (and it works!), and gives me massages when I'm stressed even if he's nearly comatose.  He (and his friends) talk about plans for this summer and he refers to me as "the Crew" from whom he needs to discuss suggestions.  His roommate (who is moving out next week) talks to me as though I am now a permanent fixture in the "gang," and all his friends seem very comfortable including me in any of their group activities.

He and his roommate were discussing life the other night, and I was tired and laying across Noah's lap and listening.  Noah described his progress into adulthood and the new-found motivation to "grow up" and start living like an adult.  Six months ago, he mentioned frequently how he worked as hard as he did so that he could take it really easy in his personal life.  Now, his attitude seemed to shift toward pulling his shit together some more and having something to show for his hard work.  I'm not sure if that was because I was sitting there and he was telling me indirectly that his priorities had started to shift, but he said it, and I heard it.

A couple weekends ago, I went to watch Game of Thrones at Noah's friend's house, because I was uncertain how I'd catch up on the episodes I'd missed and the friends I usually watched it with were unresponsive to texts.  Noah and his friend went to the store for supplies beforehand, and Noah went off for another social engagement.  When I got to his friend's house, there was a bottle of wine Noah had picked out for me, because I don't drink much beer and he was looking out for me.  I know this man wants me to be happy and to have a good time.

I could cite a hundred examples of how he loves me, so it isn't a question of if he does, but when he will say it.  Maybe even if he ever will.  What if he's never told a girl he loves her?  I'm not nosy and haven't pried into his past love life at all, besides politely engaging him in conversation about things he's already brought up.  I know it's none of my business unless he wants to share, and that's how I feel about my own love life.  He doesn't know most of my dating history, and won't, because it's not what I want to discuss.  If he asked me pointed questions, there's a greater likelihood that I would divulge, but it's very important to me to avoid sharing details on prior relationships because I'm biased against most of them (now that they've ended, of course).

Because I'm not prompting him to share, I also don't think it's my place to ask if he's ever been in love or said it to someone before.  His roommate's wife told me that in the several years she's known him, he hasn't been with anyone significant, and in the six months he's been with me, he has changed quite a bit.  Apparently they all discuss the changes in him.  People in my life talk about how I've changed, too.  I'm calmer and more positive overall.

I've noticed that my own qualms and hangups include looking directly into his eyes.  I just can't seem to do it, even though I used to be able to do that.  Lately I've been making progress, and actually trying to look him in the eyes for a little longer than a glance just before I kiss him.  I had relied mostly on the visceral wave of sensation when we get intimate, which for me is a strong indication of connection, but is probably the result of my relying on physical connection to validate myself most of my life.  Cuddling has been easy; he never shrugs me off.

It's just that in words, I am so much more comfortable.  I crave hearing those things I would happily say, on repeat, because in words I can relate.  I want him to tell me how much he loves me, how beautiful he thinks I am (which he does say sometimes), he happy he is with me, and that he's grateful for me.  I realize that all these things are basically a commitment, because in words things are so much more tangible, so much more concrete.  He openly resisted the idea of even being in a relationship, and has since started agreeing with his friends that I am in fact his girlfriend.

So why am I impatient?  I don't want things to be different.  I love this man and I want him to keep treating me like a friend and a lover.  I'm not sure why I so deeply crave for him to express himself in ways he doesn't seem eager to do.

blessings and perspective

After reflecting on the events of my thirtieth year, I had concluded, just before my 31st birthday, that that had so far been the best year of my life.  The most transformative, and the healthiest.

I'm always working out how to be healthy.  It's really not a permanent fix, I've realized.  Therapy has done its part in many ways, but obviously it needs to have a permanent, semi-regular place in my life.

I certainly don't pretend to remember all the lessons I've learned as I've grown.  There are the subtle ones that dawn on me for a moment or two, or those that impart their wisdom to me through repeated trial and error (and error and error and error).  And the ones I fought hard to learn, even...those ones I don't always put into practice, sadly.

But I've learned a few valuable lessons that I don't think I'll ever forget:

* Be grateful.
* Be authentic with your words--don't say things you don't mean (but I'm working on not verbally abusing myself when I feel down). Speak with love.
*Help others when you can, and do so enthusiastically.
* Love fearlessly.  Love your friends.  Love your family.  Love your pets.  Love your environment.  Love your work, and the purpose it serves.

And here's where my life lessons have led me, at least at this present moment.

For the sake of seeing this beautiful thing through with Noah, I am practicing patience, perspective, and reservation of judgment.  For example, I know that sometimes my mood will swing, typically when I'm not in his company, and I will be riddled with doubt about myself, our situation, how he feels, how I look, etc.  I have to remind myself that the world is not waiting for me to make a decision, that circumstances will inevitably shift to something better or different or worse or whatever, but they will change nonetheless.

This helps me wait it out, my funky mood.  That way, I'm fresh-faced and delighted to see Noah every time, rather than an attention-craving ball validation-seeking anxiety.

Also, it has helped me to pull back quite a bit and focus on spending time doing things with other people, checking important things off my to-do list, and getting my work accomplished.  Noah gets his shit done, and sets a very good example, but when I hang out with him, he has generally already completed many tasks, whereas I have many yet to tend to.  And then we just relax in each other's company, while my tasks wait un-tended.

Some time ago, I sat down with my dear friend and we sketched out our ideal partners.  I knew I wanted someone who I could respect, who could keep up with me, who challenged me, who appreciated me, who was affectionate, honest, open, and reliable.  I wanted a man I was attracted to, who had a healthy sexual appetite, and with whom I had excellent chemistry.  I wanted a man who didn't just think about himself, but who was generous and kind to others, including his friends, his lover, his family, and everyone else.  I wanted a man who took care of himself and his affairs, with a cheerful and sharp wit, who appreciated and "got" my sense of humor and respected my opinions and passions.  I wanted a man who was proud to have me around, and to introduce me to other important people in his life.  AND I wanted a man who actively made the time to be with me.

This last part was especially important, because it was so blatantly where I was neglected by Toby for so many years.  In fact, the entire time, come to think of it.

And it's amazing how accurately this list describes Noah.  He is the most amazing man.  Not perfect, of course, and I would never argue that, but he is a good man.  He is humble and courteous, he is peaceful and approachable.  He appreciates variety and the plethora of talents and aspirations and loves that other people embrace, even if he does not embrace those things.

And damnit, this man spends time with me.  I am not demanding, I am not high-maintenance, and I never feel like a burden because when I request Noah's time, he fucking finds some way to give it to me.  He does not try to dodge me or give vague predictions about his future schedule.  He wraps his beautiful arms around me tight, all night, and treats me like he wants to be with me.

I can't even begin to describe how much that means to me.  Much less tell him.  But I think he knows.  I think we both know, we're taking care of each other.  We're in this to be good to the other, to lift the other up, to be our best selves, and to enjoy the experience.

I was hoping, really deeply aching, for the past month or two, to know where we stood on the "official" standpoint... was I his girlfriend?  He'd mentioned before not wanting a relationship but feeling conflicted because he was that into me...and then we just kept spending time together.  I was laying in bed next to him last weekend, turning the script over in my head, rephrasing something along the lines of, "Hey, how d'you feel about calling me your girlfriend?" or something equally casual.  I had mulled it over so many times I'm sure I was sending some serious transmissions directly to him, since we were wrapped around each other in the sleepy hours of the morning.  I never mustered the courage to ask him directly.

That evening, over text message, we discussed plans for watching the college basketball championship game, and he asked me to remind him to pick up "food for girlfriend" completely un-prompted.  It was such a relief!  At least I know now that he's feeling steady with me.  I've gotten burned so many times in the last two years, it's an incredible compliment to have someone I think so highly of finally decide I was worth investing some time into.

He openly respects me, my work, my opinions, and my judgment of character.  He affectionately sits near me, touches me with his leg, or shoulder, or wraps his arm around me, or sits near me, or holds me so tight when we hug goodbye.

And today we went to the hardware store, and as we were leaving spotted an older man tying four long pieces of wood to the back of his motorcycle.  Noah considered asking him if we could carry that wood home for the man while he followed us with his bike...and we made it to the driveway when Noah turned around and decided to ask him if he could use the help.  The man declined graciously, but the gesture was worth it.

I'm so damn proud to be this man's significant other.  I have such profound respect for him, and I feel so good to be with him.  I'm not going to bop around declaring my love for him (even though secretly, in my head, I do it all the time), but I am truly honored and humbled to blessed with his companionship.  It's certainly worth practicing all my previous life lessons and all the wisdom I've ever acquired just to ensure that this relationship is the healthiest it is capable of being.

So I'm trying to dust off all those lessons I probably learned when I was heartbroken and hopeless the last six years of my life.  I'd like to really appreciate the journey that brought me to this amazing man.  Even if this isn't the end of the road in love, I am very happy to be right where I am.

belonging

I won't lie...I've been in a foul mood lately.

Sure, a lot of it I could blame on hormones and a gradually increasing sense of irritability.  I'm uncomfortable in my body, feeling bloated and gassy, and my clothes are mostly too tight.

There's been a great deal of work stress, very little thanks, and limited feelings of accomplishment.  Honestly, though, even the lovely disposition of so many of my students hasn't been enough to brighten my mood much or for very long.

That sense of elation and gratitude that I often have has been absent, and noticeably so.  And knowing that I'm barreling through the universe without a pervasive sense of awe and wonder makes me feel even worse.  I don't want to be so preoccupied by my own menial troubles that I forget how grand life is.

But you know something, I did not realize just how much I thrive in Noah's company, and he's been gone for two weeks.  We've spent a great deal of time together, and now going a stretch of time without him really makes a difference.  He just got back to town last night, and I finally got to see him again.  I felt myself smiling effortlessly, and laughing with gusto, and it was easy.

And he called me his girl, out loud, more in casual reference than anything, but it was practically a fucking declaration, one I thought I'd never hear.  I'm His Girl!  His friends have referred to me as his girlfriend several times, and he's never corrected them (at least not in front of me), but I don't want to do anything to try and augment the situation.  If he wants me to be his girlfriend, well I'm good and goddamned ready to be!  If not, well I've got other prospects and I'm sure I'll bounce back, even after much heartbreak and resentment has transpired.

But the idea that I am someone's girlfriend is kind of exciting!  Not just any someone, too.  This man has such a good and caring energy, and he makes me feel so safe and important.  I think he's proud of me, and proud to have me.  I think so, anyway.

And then there's his roommate, who I find to often be needlessly contentious and specifically mean to me.  But this man is very important to Noah, and I brought up privately a couple weeks ago that I felt targeted, after feeling frustrated and belittled.  I just felt compelled to say something, but still didn't feel good after revealing it.  Noah responded kindly but I still freaked out internally that I had somehow put a wedge in between them by mentioning that I felt picked on.  Last night he brought it up to me, asking if things were okay and if I felt uncomfortable still...and actually I do now.  I had felt a lot of anger but as these past few days have gone by, I've sorted it out for myself.  Thank goodness, because we're all going on a weekend trip to the lake tomorrow, and I just want to feel at ease (as I'm quite sure Noah does, too).  Drama is boring and exhausting.

And nothing soothes me more than having that man's arms wrapped around me all night.  Truly, it blesses everything else.  I'm so much nicer today than I've felt like being this entire week.  I'm certainly still hormonal, because my boobs are so sore (!!), but there is finally hope.  He really does make me so happy :)

the Journey continues

I'm not happy that I've gained several pounds in the last six months.  At first I wasn't concerned because I expected my injured shoulder to heal and I didn't think I'd have bronchitis for three horrible months.  I'd gotten a little soft around the middle but my clothes still fit.

Now they are uncomfortably tight.  I'm disappointed in myself for slacking on cardiovascular exercise and eating fattening foods.  It's going to have to stop.

But hey, there's some nice things to look forward to, if I can make them happen.  Maybe I can organize a school trip to Costa Rica next summer.  We haven't had an international trip in a couple years, and the kids are obviously missing it.

That being said, I get to be one of the all-expenses-paid chaperones for the senior class trip to Disneyland this May.  I haven't been to Disneyland since I was in junior high, I think.  In any case, I was chosen based on popular vote by the seniors arranging the trip, so I'm beyond flattered about it and I get to cash in on my popularity!

My dear friend Lisa is moving to Texas.  I'm okay with the idea of her moving on to something bigger and better.  I know this is the most important thing she could be doing for herself, and I'm beyond proud of her.  I'm also sad about it, somewhere internally, but because it's not about me at all, I'm afraid I've kind of shut down a little and gotten distant somehow.  We're obviously going to be close forever, but change this big means big changes in relationships.  She's very important to me.  It's hard to be 100% supportive when I'm coping with the thought of losing her company.

Lately, when I've experienced fear about what's actually happening with Noah, my inner monologue has miraculously developed into a dialogue.  It's not just the voice that tells me how horrible and unworthy I am, in fact, that voice far less audible anymore.  Usually now I have that argument between the part of me that is convinced that things have run their course and that I should start bracing for impact and the part of me that is willing to wait and see, the part of me that believes in the kind of person that Noah regularly proves himself to be.  God it's so scary to face my own demons and fear of being abandoned, of being insufficient, of being temporary and expendable.  I'm not the only one with baggage, and I'm sure Noah has his share of fears about repeated experiences from his past, but he truly does not seem to be taking those fears out on me, or projecting his past relationships on me.

It's nice to remember to just enjoy things the way they are.  They're currently very peaceful, fun, and affectionate.  We've got our responsibilities, we've got our social lives, we've got our senses of humor, the things we choose to eat, wear, smoke, say to others, do for others, and accept from others.  I'm getting better at not harboring judgment of other people as a symptom of feeling incredibly inadequate.  I'm getting better at not taking things personally and getting offended by thoughtlessness and offhanded comments (from anyone).  I'm grateful that he sets a really good example of being impervious to others' drama.

Lisa and I were discussing the many languages of Love, and the five major ways people express their love and affection: words of affirmation, acts of service, receiving gifts, quality time, and physical touch.  It's helpful to me to remember that the way I am channeling my Love for Noah is a different combination of these languages than the way he does for me.  I'm very physically affectionate, I use words of affirmation profusely, and I value quality time.  If I can, I also like to do acts of service or give gifts, sometimes in the same gesture.

It's a helpful reminder that Noah demonstrates his love in his own unique combination of ways.  He relies less on words, but is exceptionally generous and physically affectionate.  He performs acts of service and, above all else, loves people with his quality time.  I am very fortunate to be counted among the people he spends his time with.  When I shower him with loving words, he reaffirms that he spends so much time with me because he thinks just as highly of me.  I may not hear it with my ears, but he's definitely saying it.

I do love him.  I'm very blessed to have encountered him on my journey.  This could be that stretch of time in my life that I reflect on where I blissfully recall what a wonderful man I got to date for however long we lasted, or it could be something that persists more long term.  I'm certainly blessed with every experience I've had with every man I've dated, but few none of them can claim to have not sent up any red flags...I mean honestly, I'm grateful for the opportunities for growth but beyond that I can't say that I was handled with care.  Noah is quite caring and careful with me, even if he does purport to value his singledom above the idea of a relationship.  I don't see myself asking him for any clarity in our "status" for the time being; it's nice just exactly where it is, and wherever it might be next week, or next month.  His friends call me his girlfriend, and I haven't heard him correct them.

Fear makes me lose so much sleep, and I do so love sleep.  Fear robs me of my most precious experiences.  I can't let fear rob me of being blissfully in love.

Survival Guide

*CAUTION: Explicit Horn-Tooting in this Post*

As part of my healing campaign, the one where I gradually learn to love myself for my journey and who it has made me, I am reflecting on my strengths.

I am a survivor.

For example, I survived seven years of sexual abuse at the hands of my step father, who never faced any recourse other than my deep loathing and lack of trust for decades to follow.  My brother is also graciously in my corner and fiercely angry on my behalf...but I have overcome the sense of worthlessness that comes from being objectified as a child and adolescent.  My sexuality is no longer a pathological cry for help.  Sex is a beautiful and passionate expression of love, intimacy, and trust, rather than a means of validating my warped self-image.  SURVIVOR.

I have also traveled around the country alone a number of times.  With next to no possessions, money, or amenities.  I washed my hair in rest area sinks.  I slept where I fell, and learned to get by on a few bites of food each day.  I met new people easily and did not allow myself to be taken advantage of.  I found my peace and meditated deeply.

I took this to the next level when I began traveling abroad.  I've gone to several countries by myself, always on the cheap, and with a bare-bones agenda of simply getting there and then getting back out again: a simple recipe for an amazing adventure that unfolds however it pleases.  I am quite capable of traveling and being alone, in any circumstance I may find myself.  I am not afraid.  SURVIVOR.

I know what the inside of my car engine looks like.  My stepdad is a wealth of knowledge and technical ability when it comes to problem-solving and repairs on all manner of machinery, especially cars.  I've participated in many repairs (even though I am always purely a novice), and have helped whenever I am allowed to.  He honors my curiosity by engaging me in the process and no longer condescends my abilities or comprehension.  I have a small but complete set of tools that he gave me for Christmas one year, and a repair manual for my Jeep.  I am obviously not able to repair my own car if I broke down in the desert somewhere, but simple issues do not frighten or elude me.  I will not be swindled by any mechanic.  I will never be "stranded" anywhere.  SURVIVOR.

My own hard path and heavy drug use to escape depression did not kill me, even though suicide was a sincere thought in my mind for a long time.  I made one attempt at my own life, at one of my darkest moments, and at another I had a near-death experience that I lamented as a lost opportunity to simply end it all.  This prompted me to pursue professional psychological support, which dramatically turned my life around.  The many incongruities between my heart and soul, the pain and blockage, have been slowly worked out, smoothed down, soothed away.  It has brought me to this very point, at this very moment writing this diary entry.  I'm sharing my love for life and propping up others who are hurting.  I'm not just surviving, I'm helping save lives.  SURVIVOR.

I am but a drop of the universe.  My energy is all of the energy, in some different form.  I'm not separate, not distinct, not alone.  My equipment and wiring has its limits and is not always trained on acknowledging the connectedness and uniformity of universal love energy, but music connects all of that for me--it helps me to expand when I have become constricted. It reminds me that I am timeless and that everything around me is timeless.  No conflict is so great that the universe will cease, especially not a car issue or relationship drama.  How very liberating to remember that the universe does not make mistakes, that it is right on schedule, and we are precisely where we should be.  That's how I survive.

feeling lucky

I'm really quite blessed.  My family and I are on the best terms we've ever been.  My health has been generally quite good.  I'm eating well and money hasn't been as painfully tight, though it may be too soon to tell.

I've got this wonderful man who treats me perfectly.  Not just me, but everyone!  I see his high standards for himself, and he lives by them deliberately.

I'm compelled to not take him seriously when he makes the occasional disclaimer about always seeing himself as a loner free from a relationship, but I don't want to disregard that he has said these things and tends to speak from the heart.  For the moment, however, I'm smitten and content to keep wrapping myself around him and laughing with him and his friends.  As long as we treat each other right, maybe there could be a future in this.  I like being part of this group of people; they're witty and relaxed and have a variety of interests and talents.  This wonderful man doesn't keep himself so guarded from me as he once did, and we see each other fairly regularly.  I don't actually have the time to see him that frequently, and I shouldn't cave to temptation to ask to see him so much, but I literally crave his company!  I'd venture a guess that he's pretty fond of me, too. :)

more than crumbs

There was a stretch of my history, not so distant, when I did not understand how to love.

I certainly thought I did, and I attempted to use words like, "I love you," and such things to that effect, but I was stuck--blocked somewhere within in some way that prevented me from truly loving.

What I was doing instead was taking.  I had to rely on the affection and gestures of others to "prove" to myself that I was worthy.  That input from my friends, my boyfriend, my family, had to outweigh the deep shame and contempt I held for myself.

In these relationships with others, I was not coming from a place of honesty or authenticity, because when I did that, my horrifying demons would emerge and I would see them and cringe...ultimately I drove myself away.  I fled into the shadows and kept my truths in the dark, where they bled my energy away.  In order to maintain such a façade, I sought others who were similarly hiding their own shadows.  I stayed for five years with someone who kept me more than a stone's throw from his scars, so I only barely knew about what he had been through.

Because I had insisted on that distance from my own wounds, I mingled most comfortably with other wounded, damaged people who could only operate from that pained place and were very limited in what they could give.  So in true co-dependent fashion, we were compensating for one another's shortcomings and felt incredibly taxed, while also requiring that the other prove our "worthiness" of love to us.

I became a "crumb-taker," and would accept the barest minimum in terms of emotional closeness, just so that I could feel desirable, and maintain a status of "taken."  I always wanted more, I desperately yearned for more, but was never honest with myself about the arrangement I had agreed to.

The flip-side of that was that if I was a "crumb-taker," I must also have been a "crumb-giver," which in itself is my most recent revelation.  I could not give myself wholly with love because, in all honesty, I was not whole in Love.  I did not love myself.  I did not see myself as lovable, and as long as I could not see myself with affection, I selfishly made only a false image of myself available for anyone else.

With much effort and struggle, I managed to identify the serious blockages in my spirit--the sources of my crippling self-hatred and agony, and eventually forgive myself for not being perfect.  Luckily, when you practice forgiving by starting with yourself, it becomes a lot easier to forgive others.  You tend to see them as flawed, just like you are.  You have a bit more perspective on the source of their pain, and how it might manifest itself in "symptoms" that hurt you inadvertently.

The beautiful thing about Love is that it compounds itself with little effort.  Once I started loving authentically, the fire grew hotter and brighter and ignited everything around it.  The more you love, the easier it becomes to Love.  The more you forgive, the easier it is to forgive.  The more you smile, the more you dance, the more you embrace, the more you relax, the more you reflect, the more you exercise compassion, the easier they all become.

I truly believe that I am where I am today, this very minute, because every step I've made on this journey up to this point.  I could not have ascended to this point without first being willing to climb.  I would never have discovered the treasures at the top if I hadn't ascended to this point.  It makes sense that the rewards I can give thanks for were hard-earned and I would not have deserved nor appreciated them without the requisite effort.

Love is easy, but it takes work.  It takes focus.  It takes flexibility and patience.  It takes a willingness to learn about yourself and others.  It takes authenticity.  It takes you.

I am no longer a crumb-taker, and I have redefined my position--I attempt to limit my expectations.  Today is enough, because today is the present, and the present is a gift.  And there is love in every moment of it, and it is exactly enough.

moonlight

He is my Moon

Cool and shining, his face is

Broad and beautiful, and sometimes 

Hidden from sight.

He draws the waves up

And provides clear light

His story is long

And misunderstood.

***

When I declare to the world (or even to my tight-lipped Diary) that I am in love, that I am swooning and completely caught up and deliriously happy and grateful for my circumstances, too often I have promptly been swatted down--punished for my abandon.

Usually when I tell my mom, strangely enough.

I've mentioned Noah to my mom a number of times; at some point back in October, I think, again in December, and then most recently a few weeks ago.  Of course, I'm always so excited to describe his fine qualities.  Unlike the trend, however, each time I've simply had more wonderful things to say.

This man is a good man.  He's got his own style, his own philosophy, and his own set of personal values.  He knows what he's got going for him and he's content.  I see how he treats people--as if he was raised properly by parents who encouraged respect and kindness to everyone--and I'm just enamored.  He is completely genuine.

My goal these past couple months has been to slow my own pace (which can be reckless and impulsive) down to allow time for flowers to grow, for flavors to marinate, for the kaleidoscope to shift gradually into a new and beautiful scene.  I've made myself stop needing a definition for my time with Noah.  I've enjoyed having a crush that I fantasize about all week until I get to see him on the weekend.  And I've seen him every weekend!

I've spent three days with him, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday.  We've shared some closer stories about our pasts, I told him more details about my dad, he mentioned some aspects of past relationships.  We were sitting by the fire on Saturday night, drinking, and I clambered into his lap, facing him.  The precise details of our conversation by this point are fuzzy, but he did tell me that he was very much opposed to the idea of having a relationship...until recently, when things have started to shift for him.  And he told me I probably knew that was happening.  Maybe I do.  This whole situation could be us test-driving a scenario where we are major players in one another's lives.  We're becoming good friends, and I really like that.  I like who this person is, and I believe in him and his goals.  I know that's mutual.

My personal expression is so word-based sometimes, that in the past I've forgotten that other people might not follow my example exactly, even if they are equally enthusiastic.  Noah does things.  He is a man of action.  Certainly, he is confident and wise enough to actually spare a compliment now and again, but more often he is generous, gracious, and attentive as an expression of his deep admiration and caring.  I asked him last night if I was reading his actions correctly, and he confirmed it.  He's loving me very deliberately with every cup of coffee he makes for me before he makes one for himself.  He's bearing his heart every time he brags about the game of darts I "destroyed" him at.  He's showing how important I am and how much he trusts me by incorporating me into his weekend activities and errands and gatherings.

And when I sleep over, he has his arms wrapped around me literally all night.  I spend all week in my own bed alone and I'm practically aching to have those arms around me...even with the snoring and the 20-minute increments of sleep!

I adore him.

And for Valentine's Day, I will cook him dinner (for the first time!) and we'll take a cab to a bar that has batting cages.  I'm so excited!  Batting cages!!

So yeah, maybe this wonderful man will be my wonderful man at some point.  I'd be so honored to be his lady.

Dear Diary,

I'm writing here so I don't gush to my polite, tolerant, beautiful friends who let me air out thousands of details constantly.

I'm writing here because the time I get to spend with the boy is often dominated by his talkative roommate.  In fact, it's usually dominated by him.  I enjoy hanging out with all of them, but our private time tends to be more intimate and less about casual conversation.  We are gradually growing closer, but I haven't had any deep conversations with him in a fairly long time.

Diary, I think I'm doing it.  At least, my deliberately trying to hang back and let details sort themselves out seems to be a sensible strategy.  It's getting more peaceful.  I feel lighter and more cheerful.

Also, as per the sage advice of dating columnists, I'm not writing off other options.  There are still a few other gentlemen with whom I'm corresponding, but I'm not so invested in any of them...they seem to express enough interest to continue contacting me, and I'm interested enough to have conversation, so this is a helpful way not to fixate or obsess on anyone.

But the boy knows I'm enamored.  I've told him.

And I'm not sorry that I did.  I trust him.  He's kind, he's caring, and he's protective.  He's so damn humble.  He's gentle with me.

In fact, I've told this boy how highly I think of him on many occasions, but I don't want to gush at him out of context.  I don't want to over-say it, so it feels less honest and undeserved to him.  We agreed last night that we are very fond of each other.  He called me a "kick-ass lady," and then, "really killer," which is so terribly endearing.  Then he rephrased it as, "seriously, I wouldn't spend this kind of time with you if I didn't really think that."  I told him I knew, and that I am picky too.

He's not a perfect man, but he's a good man.  I love his smile.  I love how he holds me.  I love how he treats his friends, and how he talks about them, and how he takes care of his shit like a grown up.

With some trepidation I asked if he would spend Valentine's Day with me, and he laughed a little and agreed that he'd plan for that.  I don't want to hang expectations on him, because I like that we're evolving very slowly in a positive direction...but I want to secure this boy's company that night :)

Diary, I also think he's proud to spend time with me.  I think he might appreciate having his friends see him being treated well by a woman they approve of.  I know his friends approve of me :)  He deserves to have someone beef up his ego a little bit--he has the least amount of ego of literally any guy I've ever dated.

I like him.  I've liked him a lot since the first time we met, but now I know quite a bit more about him.  I'm learning things about him every day.  Almost every interaction with him has been great; even the times he canceled on me last-minute, he was extremely upfront about the circumstances and not simpering.  I told him it was fine, but that the ball was in his court...and he understood and made things right eventually.  I've never felt mishandled by him.

It seems, Diary, as if this were the type of guy who would go to great lengths in my favor to avoid hurting me, if at some point one of us stopped feeling the connection.  I just think he's that stand-up of a guy.  Even so, I hope we know each other for a long time.  I like being included in his friendly gatherings and outings.  It's easy to be around him.

Anyway, thanks Diary.  It's lots of fun to have a crush.  I just need to avoid fueling it at work!

Wait for it...

I recall very distinctly a time in my life (probably the majority of my life) where I always felt like I was holding my breath for things to fall into place.  I was waiting for a functional relationship, and the education/experience/qualifications I'd been pushing for forever so that I could eventually get the job I was passionate about.  I was reserving my appreciation for my body for when I'd finally shed the hundred pounds of hideous fat and revealed my perfect physique beneath.  I had decided that once those things had been accomplished, that I could finally relax, be kind to myself, and feel genuinely happy.

Instead of really pushing for those things with hope in my heart, I saw my relationship going nowhere, my career efforts seemed impossibly uphill, and I was still wrapped in my fat shell.  I felt robbed of youth and beauty and any financial stability after earning my degree.  My boyfriend was actively avoiding me, even though we lived together.  I saw him maybe twice a week.  I worked a stressful job with coworkers all content to save their griping for on the clock, so the environment was thick with negativity.  I volunteered for field assistanceships frequently, but felt like it was blind groping for an opportunity that I wasn't sure I'd recognize.

Waiting.  Waiting for things to change, to get better.  I was miserable.  Nothing was going anywhere.  I found myself laying in bed, praying for death to release me.  I would mentally inventory the embarrassing details my family would learn posthumously, but mostly I didn't care.  I was terribly alone, I hated myself, I hated my relationship, I hated my job, I couldn't see any possible way out.

After a near-death experience (and I'm not exaggerating) with a panic-induced asthma attack, I found myself actually regretting that I hadn't just died.  That I was so close, and to have missed the opportunity.  It was time for therapy.

My job offered an employee assistance program with free therapy sessions, so I got started with Barbara.  She catalyzed major changes in my life.  I took it seriously, and I embraced those changes, even though the process was often slow and painful.  I tried to see the storm for what it was: temporary.

In the months that followed, I started Pilates four hours a week, and lost 15 lbs by the spring.  I broke up with my boyfriend.  I moved out of the apartment we shared.  I started a summer internship hiking all day every day.  I lost 20 more pounds.  I returned to my parents' house, pounded the pavement hard looking for a job, and was suddenly looking at my passport and visa to move to Korea to teach English.

Within a year of starting therapy, I had changed everything.  I got on a plane and moved to the other side of the planet.  I lost more weight.  I started training in tae kwon do.  I made better friends.  I traveled Asia.

I've stopped waiting, as much, and it's so exciting to reflect on what happened after my lowest point in 2007.  But it's 2014.  That tale ended in 2010.  I'm in Arizona, still feeling some urge for a change.  I'm so much happier, at least in longer stretches, and I take charge over the things I want to change.  I'm much more spiritually at peace, and I practice mindfulness more and more.  I have a wonderful social life in Tucson, with friends I love and trust.  I have a job that is so much more positive.  My students are loving and peaceful and I think we're all grateful to be together.  I have a much healthier relationship with my mother.

The financial stability isn't there yet.  The weight is a work in progress.

I'm sure when I reflect on this time in a few years, I will cite how transformative it was, too.  How I was ever-growing and how all the time I was merely on that path to the next thing.  I believe that.

At some Point in Space

I bought two mice.  The day after Bill broke up with me, actually.  On my way home from a movie I saw with my AP Biology students.

I wanted presence in my house.  I wanted something warm, something that responds.

So I came home with two tiny girls: Cinnamon and Nutmeg.  I call them the Spice Girls, though really I just say their sweet little names to them.  I set up their little colorful plastic cage, got them all cozy and fed, and they made themselves at home.

They sure do run in that wheel a lot.  I figured I should give them a little wheel to run around the house.  At first, I could only convince Nutmeg to climb into my hand, so I could get her in the ball.  She seemed to get the hang of it right away.

Cinnamon was much more reluctant.  She's actually pretty hesitant to get into my hand ever, but we're working on the trust thing.  Eventually, actually last Tuesday (Christmas Eve), I got her and had her try it out.  She went all over the house, bumping into my feet as I baked pumpkin pies to bring up to Phoenix.  And then...I stopped getting bumped.  And then I saw the empty ball.  No mouse to be found.

I had a schedule, sadly, and I figured she'd be fine for a few days around the house.  I hoped I'd find her as soon as I came home, and on Sunday afternoon I came home with my ears peeled.  I didn't locate her until the evening, in my closet, but she's FAST!  I left the top open on the cage a little each day, I'm not sure why...but I thought I spotted something like a mouse climbing up the outside of the cage...but when I took a closer look, nothing. So I kept looking.  It's been two days, and I've tried drawing her out with food and into my little metal trap.  No luck :(

Now it's New Year's Eve.  The food I put out last night wasn't there anymore.  I went to Brazilian Jiu Jitsu this morning, and came home.  Nutmeg was cozy and adorable inside a sock I'd placed in the loft tower, and as I talked to her, whaddaya know!  There's Cinnamon inside the cage.  I suppose it makes sense; they're best friends and this was Cinnamon's safe place with plenty of food and water and bedding.  The apartment is too rough a terrain for a little baby mouse.

Honestly, I'm shocked that I found her, and that she took herself home!  Wonderful way to end the year.

*************************

This year....in reflection.  It's been the best year of my life, I figure.  Ups and downs.  Lots of lessons.

I've had my resolve challenged.  I've had to employ newly learned lessons and seek tranquility and spiritual growth while feeling strained and doubtful.  The world has continued to turn and many problems have sorted themselves out, as long as I believed it.  Why am I still so doubtful?

I've certainly grown in some aspects tremendously.  I've had the chance to love some of the most profoundly beautiful people.  I've been very loved by all of them.  My mother and I developed a much stronger friendship.  I've bonded deeply with my students, last year's and this.

I've worked my ass off at work and in school.  There were probably lots of things I could have done that I blew off, but I made an effort not to break myself down.  I spent all of this past quarter sick with bronchitis and a sinus infection, but this is when my current kids and I really fell in love.

I got to work in a biochemistry lab and I laughed every day.  I rode my bike for miles in the summertime, and I got a good tan!

That summer job paid for my trip to Southeast Asia!!!  I went to Thailand, visited Malaysia, and had layovers in Taiwan.  I questioned what I learned about myself out there; I questioned why I was unsatisfied and what it was that I might really be needing.

I have many kinds of love in my life, but I realized I really want romantic love.  Crazy, delirious love.

I think this year has been about grooming me to be that carefree, infatuated lover whose fuse is longer and whose adoration is genuine and pure.  I've realized that I can be that person, up to a point, where fear causes my panicked guards to heave massive fences around my warm, welcoming courtyard.  I'm quite flighty when it comes to romantic love.

Hence, my countless romantic encounters this year.

I dug myself a tiny bit further out of debt, though you'd never know it from the bill collectors' incessant phone calls.  I'd say I chiseled about $1500 of what I owed this time last year.  Goddamned slow going, this process.

I've been a heartbreaker, and jeez it's a tough business.  I mean, I'd like to be the object of affection and attention without hurting people's feelings!  I may have encouraged a couple of them, unfortunately, and in one case it worked out fine and in the other the guy had a meltdown.  There's no predicting that, and it certainly wasn't about me.

I've gained and lost weight but overall, I feel good in my curves.  I always see it as a work in progress, as a way to stay excited about movement and a reason to try different things.

*************************

There was someone, at some point in this past year, who I met in person (the first in ages) who was really charming and attentive.  We got lunch together, and drinks, and went to an Insect Festival for our first date.  Things moved very slowly.  Things seemed to pause often.  My personal work on growth and self-compassion were still the utmost priority.

Then Bill came around, expressed interest, and I dove into that so blindly and excitedly that we both burned out in a few weeks.  It had no potential.  We weren't right together.  And this first someone, whom I'd spent more time with, whose friends I'd met, flowed more slowly, like an underground stream.

A stream that stayed steady.

There's this thing about listening.  Standing quietly in the desert and letting the rustling leaves and the birdsongs and the sunlight say what they will.  It's a patient thing.  You let yourself accept whatever the world wants to tell you.  It won't do to step foot into such a world and decide what it knows, where it's going, what it all means.  It won't do in any world.

This year, 2014, is the year of my Goddess.  This is the year of my peace, of my connection, of my new growth.  I've spent two years pruning away dead and dying branches; clearing out the unnecessary so that my spirit can be light and shine brightly.  Love resonates better in a heart that is intact.  My pieces have all been reassembled.

And now, with this same someone, who holds me tightly, cares how I feel, tends to me thoughtfully, I find myself slowing down.  Breathing it in.  Letting this moment be now.  Needing less from tomorrow.  I'm learning patience.  I'm allowing love.  I'm letting fear repel off me like droplets of water on well-oiled feathers.  Because now.

I realize that two years of healing have been necessary to bring me here.  I would have nothing, or perhaps far less, to keep for myself to steady my ground, had I found these circumstances too early.  I rejoice in the perfection of Universal timing.  My heart is full and joyful.  I'm grateful for the moment's Peace.