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!