Tag Archives: change

07

Aug. ’13

One-Sided

“This is the hardest of all: to close the open hand of love, and keep modest as a giver.”
– Friedrich Nietzsche

onesided

I want to talk about something that has caught my attention lately.

Givers.

And I don’t just mean givers in general – those who give their slightly used products to Goodwill instead of throwing them away; those who give an extra dollar every time the cashier asks if you want to donate to this or that charity; those who graciously give little presents here and there whenever and wherever they can.  Yes, those people are awesome (go team!), but no – that’s not what this blog is about.  I want to be a little more specific.  I want to talk about the givers in relationships.

To be even more specific, I want to talk about the givers in one-sided relationships.

[Now in this blog only (and I do apologize for this because I don’t usually do this kind of thing), I want to specifically talk about the woman in this kind of relationship.  Yes, I know that one-sided relationships can go either way – sometimes it’s the man giving their all while the woman does next to nothing to contribute (and sometimes it can happen within a same sex couple, which really throws a wrench into my theory here) – but as the author of this blog, I can only talk about what I know.   And what I know is what I’ve witnessed and what I’ve experienced.  In that experience, limited though it may be, I have seen that the giver is usually the woman.  I promise I’ll explain why I think that is soon.]

So.  One-sided relationships.  Oh boy, have I been there.  I also know a few friends who have been there, and I know some friends who are there now.  Not following what I mean exactly by one-sided relationships?  Ok, let me set the stage for you.

You’re with this guy and you just absolutely adore him.  He’s cute, he’s charming, he’s loving (well, most of the time)…man, you think you’ve hit the jackpot with this one.  So, you’re going to make absolute certain that you don’t screw this one up.  You’ve been known to screw things up in the past, so this time is going to be different.  First order of business?  Make sure he knows that you’re not one of those “needy” chicks that expects the man to pay for things when you go out.  Oh no siree, not you, Miss Woman of the 21st Century.  You are independent and self-sufficient and he needs to know it.  So, on the first couple of dates, you pay for yourself.  Nothing wrong with that, right?  You feel good about it – he seems impressed – win/win.  But then, as time goes by, you start paying for a few more things here and there – you start buying both of your meals.  You not only want to show that you’re independent, but you want to show him how much you care.  And we know how much a man loves food, so let’s buy him some.  Well, eventually, that doesn’t seem to be enough.  You don’t feel like he knows that you care.  And if he doesn’t know, then he might not stick around, right?  Better do a little bit more.  Let’s start buying him gifts.  Yeah – that’ll do the trick.  First, a little gift here and there.  No biggie – it’s sweet, right?  Then, those gifts start getting a little larger…he’s into cars?  Let’s buy him some car accessory we saw him ogling.  He likes a certain movie?  Let’s find the special collector’s edition DVD of it and give it to him for no good reason.  He likes a certain book?  Ok, never mind…I’ve went too far.  We all know men don’t read books….

(KIDDING, fellas!)

So, you catch my drift, right?  Eventually, somewhere along the line, the idea has entered your head that you can earn this man’s love.  Now, I don’t mean to emphasize monetary gifts, per se.  Sometimes it may just be cooking him dinner, or making him something, or writing him notes…whatever.  The point is, you are doing a heck of a lot more than he is.

Why is that?

Ok, well, I can hypothesize on this all day, but I’ll try to narrow it down.  There are so many possible reasons why women feel the need to do this, but first and foremost is this: we were raised this way.  Now, I know that times are changing and women are much more independent than they were in times gone by.  But at the heart of who we are is the need to nurture.  We are the ones who bear the children, we are the ones whose bodies produce the milk to feed our young, we are the ones who are taught from an early age to keep the peace, to keep our loved ones happy.  It’s just the way it is, like it or not.  And honestly, I’m cool with that.  The role we women play is a pretty important one, a necessary one, and we should be proud.

But here’s the problem with that.  We sometimes may tend to transfer that over to our romantic relationships. And then when the relationship doesn’t work out, we think we didn’t play our role correctly, so we try harder the next time.  And if that one doesn’t work out?  Try even harder the next time.

You following me?

Because of our nature, we think that we have to give, give, give in order to be loved.  Check out these snippets of lyrics from the song “Little Miss” by Sugarland:

“Little miss checkered dress
Little miss, one big mess
Little miss, I’ll take less when I always give so much more…
Little miss, do your best
Little miss, never rest
Little miss, be my guest, I’ll make more anytime that it runs out…”

See?  It’s who we are.  There are even songs about it.  And don’t get me wrong – like I said before, being this way is a good thing.  It really, really is.  But the problem is that sometimes we end up with men who take advantage of that.  Now, am I blaming them for that?  No, not really.  As much as I like to blame men for everything, I’m not sure I can put this one on them.  Much like we were raised the way we were, they were also raised the way they were – as the recipient of this nurturing.  Why wouldn’t they accept it?  It’s natural to them.  They’re thrilled with it – who wouldn’t be?

Well, I’ll tell you who ends up not thrilled.  Us.

Women.

Over time, we start feeling like we are the only one doing anything in the relationship.  Like we are the only ones keeping it going – we are the only ones busting our butts to make sure the relationship is happy and fulfilling, while the man just reaps the benefits.  We give, they take.  My coworker Tina, who is always filled with words of wisdom, has said this phrase to me many times:

“You teach people how to treat you.”

We have taught them that this is the way it is.  That the relationship will continue without any effort on their part, because we have it covered.  No worries, Mr. Man, we got this.  We’re women, we’ll take care of everything.

But you know what?  That’s really not cool.

And when we start realizing it’s not cool, and start realizing that things are one-sided, we start to feel resentful towards the man.  We start hoping that he will change.  But guess what?  He’s not going to.

You know who has to change?  You.

Again, like I’ve said many times in my blogs, I certainly don’t have all the answers.  I’ve been through my share of failed relationships, and I’m sure I played a huge personal role in those failings at times.  I’m no different than you are.  The only thing I’m hoping to do here is shine a light on something that might be wrong in your life that you have the power to right.  Don’t stop being a giver altogether, I’m not saying that.  But maybe you could just try not to give quite so much.  Maybe you can try not to control so much and have a little faith.  Let things happen on their own, without so much forced effort.  I don’t know – just try it for a while.  See what happens.

Hey, you never know – the man in your life may just be waiting for the chance to show you he cares, if you’ll just leave him a little room to do it.

And if he doesn’t?  If he doesn’t rise to the challenge and the relationship falls apart because you are no longer in the driver’s seat?  Well, then I guess you know that little instinct you’ve been ignoring has been trying to tell you something, hasn’t it?

Relationships, man.  This crap ain’t for the faint of heart, I’m tellin ya….

***

“Yeah, I’m a giver.  I’ve learned to be selective of the people in my world, because if I love someone, I will give them my blood, whatever they need.  In doing so, one can end up with little left for themselves.”
-Brittany Murphy

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04

Aug. ’13

The Kiss

“Love is when you like someone so much that when you look at them, you just want to kiss their face.”
– Riley, age 12

kiss

My boyfriend’s son and I were having a conversation a while back (we do that a lot actually – there’s just something about that kid…) and the topic of “love” came up.  I can’t really remember the details of what was said, but I remember asking him what his definition was, and his answer was what I quoted above.  You just want to kiss their face.  I jotted it down (that’s what we writers do) and knew that I wanted to use it one day, but just wasn’t sure how.  I mean, it wasn’t exactly “deep” or “meaningful” or anything – but there was just something about it that struck a chord in me and I didn’t really know why.

Until now.

I think I may have just figured it out.

In the past few weeks, I have seen two of my friends go through heartbreaks.  And in both of these circumstances, the men that were supposed to have loved them, have hurt them.  Deeply.  As I have listened to their stories (feeling my own heart break right along with them), I have come to realize something.  Something that humbles and moves me with a feeling that it is hard to even put into words.

I will truly never know what that feels like, ever again.

I mean, I’m the chick that blogs about hurt and pain all the time.  About rising from your circumstances and about forgiveness and about moving on, and blah, blah, blah. But as I have listened to what has happened to them at the hands of the men they loved, I know, deep in my heart, that I will never be using that kind of pain as my motivation for future writings.  Why is that?  Because I know, without a doubt, that Richard will never hurt me like they’ve been hurt.

I know what you’re thinking...yeah, right.  We ALL think that about the person we love, and then we find out something later on that shatters our illusions.  Everyone is going to hurt you, no one is perfect.  Get your head out of the clouds, stupid blogger girl.  

Ok, I get that.  Richard and I are going to hurt each other at times, there’s no doubt about that.  I hear what you’re saying.  But here’s the difference.

Richard would never intentionally hurt me.  Nor I him.

That’s the difference.

Let me explain. Any problems that he and I have had over the time we have been together (and there have been plenty) all seem to have this underlying theme to them.  If we took each and every one of our disagreements and misunderstandings and dissected and examined them, you would see that at the heart of each and every single one lies one common denominator: trying not to hurt one another.  In trying not to hurt one another, we have made some stupid mistakes.  We have withheld information, withheld communication, withheld necessary information at times – all just to try to avoid hurting the other.  And then, when this information is unearthed, it causes a problem.  Now, I’m not saying that this is exactly healthy, per se.  We need to work on that, I know.  Hey, we’re just as screwed up as the rest of the couples out there in the world are, I know this.  I’m not trying to say we’re not.  We don’t know what the heck we’re doing either.  But the major difference that exists here is this.  We never ever try to hurt one another.  You know?

And that is what I’ve seen my friends going through.

With both words and actions, these men have shown their women things that have crushed them.  Sure, the men think they have excuses for what they’ve done (don’t we all?), but the cold, hard fact is this – they have done something on purpose that they knew, without a doubt, would break another person’s heart.  And that really, really, sucks.

Which brings me back to where I started this blog.  12-year-old Riley’s quote.

“Love is when you like someone so much that when you look at them, you just want to kiss their face.”

Look at the relationship that you’re in.  Right now – take stock and look around.  Assess your partnership.  Get rid of all the stupid little details that don’t matter at all – throw out the things that just annoy you about him/her, or vice versa.  Throw out anything that has happened in their past before you ever came along.  Throw out any of the daily minutiae of money issues, work stresses, kid struggles…forget all of that for just a minute.  Just look at your partner with the simplicity of that 12-year-old and ask yourself this.

When I look at him/her, do I just want to kiss their face?

And maybe more importantly, do I think that when they look at me, they want to do the same?

There’s something so tender and gentle about kissing someone’s face.  It’s not like a full-fledged kiss on the lips.  For one, you don’t really get anything in return – the kiss is just for them.  It’s not selfish, it’s not passionate, it’s not greedy.  It’s just a simple show of love towards the person that has captured your heart. Whether it be a kiss on the cheek or a kiss on the forehead, either way it’s a kiss that is full of giving, not receiving.  And I think that’s so important to pay attention to.

Ask yourself if you are giving this kind of selfless love to the person in your life.  And then, if you’re in the circumstances that my sweet, heartbroken friends are in, ask yourself this same question as the recipient.  Are you receiving this kind of love?

Are you?

Turns out, this 12-year-old may have known what he was talking about.  Love is selfless.  It’s tender and gentle and would never ever hurt you on purpose.  Love is a gift.

Real love is a kiss on the face.

Do you have it?   Don’t settle for anything else until you do.  Trust me on this one.

***

“A man’s kiss is his signature.” 
– Mae West

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31

Jul. ’13

Burnout

“Take a rest.  A field that has rested gives a bountiful crop.”
– Ovid

I just remembered something.

I’m a runner.

Did you remember that?  Because I didn’t.  I’m tellin’ ya – I seriously think I forgot about that for a while.

I have these little ‘categories’ set up on my blog.  Not sure if anyone ever notices that you can search for writings under the categories, but I thought it was a cool option when I was designing this thing, so I went with it.  I set up four categories – Freestyle Writings, Poetic Musings, Running, and Songs.  When I first started out, I was afraid that the “running” category would be jam packed, and that my readers who were non-runners would be bored senseless.  I was at the peak of my running ‘career’ at that point – training my tail off for my first half-marathon (which I successfully completed in May, by the way).  I was full of wit and wisdom for new runners and amateur runners like myself – hoping to show everyone that anyone can do this running thing and that you just have to push through and believe in yourself and persevere through the obstacles…..yada yada.  So on and so forth.

But then – well, I don’t know.

I just kinda just stopped that.

I just clicked on my own “Running” tab to see the last thing I had written about running.  It was this:  https://missyspublicjunk.wordpress.com/2013/06/04/time-to-chill/  Oh.  An article called “Time to Chill.”  Well, that explains it.

At that time, I was all prepared to purchase this t-shirt and hang up my running shoes:

runningsucks

Yep.  I was done for a while.

In other words, I had been….

running-on-empty

Hehe.  Get it?  Running on empty?  Oh, the wit.

But I digress.

So, yeah.  I had achieved what many of us have achieved in many different areas of our lives at some point.   Anytime you’re passionate about something; you spend all your time doing said something; you dedicate your heart and soul and spirit to the something – there exists the risk of running into that little devil who is always waiting just around the corner to put a stop to it all.  What is this little devil, you ask?

Burnout.

“Burnout is nature’s way of telling you, you’ve been going through the motions – your soul has departed; you’re a zombie, a member of the walking dead, a sleepwalker.”
– Sam Keen

That’s just it.  I had become a sleepwalker.

So, you know what I did?  I took a break.  And I think that’s the smartest thing I could have done for myself.

In the past few weeks, I’ve noticed that I’ve started feeling the pull again.  I started with a few short runs – a mile or two here and there.  And slowly, I find myself inching my way back up.  A 4-miler here.  A 5-miler there.  And yesterday – I did my own little 10K just to prove I could.  Little by little,  I’m making my way back.  I saw a post yesterday for a 7-mile run up and down a mountain road here locally.  Hmmmm.  I have two months to train….

My point is this.  Burnout is real.  No matter how much you love something, no matter how much a part of your life it becomes, overdoing it can be problematic.  It really can.  It’s ok to take a break.  You know?  Chill out a little bit.  Let things settle.  Let yourself remember why you love this thing so much and why you ever started it in the first place.

Are you a runner?  Well, there.  Apply this lesson literally.  But if you’re not?  Well then, I’m sure there’s something you can apply it to.

Maybe even someone?  Now, there’s some food for thought.

But see, here’s the thing.  When you want it bad enough, when it has become a part of you, it won’t disappear.  I promise.  Taking a break is not going to un-do any progress you made.  This thing you love is not going to go away.  Not when it’s real.

Rest easy.  Stop worrying.  It will be back.  You’ll see.

***

“”Sometimes in sports there are times when it is best to wait for another day and try again, at least for me. I see life as the race and I see no honor in reaching the finish and passing out or crawling across the finishing line. In Costa Rica, we have a saying: It’s not about being the first to finish, it’s about how you get there.”
-Roman Urbina

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29

Jul. ’13

Trust

trustblog

I saw the above picture the other day, it made me stop in my tracks.

Wow.

And then shortly after, I saw this quote:

“Learning to trust is one of life’s most difficult tasks.”
– Isaac Watts

Putting the two together, I have decided something.  I think the quote needs to be tweaked a little.  I think the word “learning” needs to be replaced with the word “remembering.”  It’s remembering to trust that needs work, wouldn’t you say?

Let me tell ya a little about myself.  I may just possibly be the most suspicious, non-trusting, skeptical person you’ll ever meet on the planet.  Oh, it’s true.  And I don’t just mean about the big stuff (relationships and whatnot).  No, I mean about everything.

My kids tell me they’ve had a good day at school?  I wonder what part they’re not really telling me.

Someone does something nice for me?  I wonder what’s really in it for them.

My coworker says she has a stomach ache?  I think she’s just looking for attention.

Oh yeah, it’s that bad.  Basically, I’m a jerk.

Oh, don’t get me wrong.  Eventually, I believe what I’m told.  Eventually.  But that first, initial gut reaction?  Disbelief.  Non-trust.  Skepticism.  And if it’s like this about something as stupid as a coworker’s stomach ache, then you know it has to be bad with matters of the heart, right?

Now, why am I like this?  Why does that picture above describe me (and probably you too, if you’re honest) to a tee?….

Hell, I don’t know.

What?  You were wanting some deep-seated answer to the burning question of why people are so jaded?  Well, you’re not going to get it from me.  In fact, if you figure it out, please write a blog yourself and I’ll post it on here.  I’d be interested in reading it, along with the millions of other people who are exactly like me (and you know it!).  Oh, now I could come up with a million excuses if you really want me to.  I can tell you about the times I’ve been lied to over the years or the times I’ve been heartbroken over believing something to be true that wasn’t.  Blah, blah, blah.  But you know what else I can tell you?  I can tell you the times that I have lied to others.  The times that I have broken someone’s heart.  If I take the time to start telling you about being jaded because of what was done to me, I need to be fair and tell you about the times that I’ve been the one doing the jading myself.  It’s only fair.  What I’m trying to say is that I can’t sit here and blame others for making me who I am.  I’m just like them.  They are just human, and so am I.

No, I can’t pin this on someone else.  I have to accept the blame.  I have to realize that I have allowed myself to become like the last person in that picture up there.  No one else did this – I did it.  And it’s time to stop.

So, back to the quote.  Like the picture illustrates, we are born with this innocent goodness, or naivety if you will.  We start out filled with unlimited amounts of love and trust for everyone around us, because we just truly just didn’t know any better.  Years ago, I remember standing at the top of the Space Needle in Seattle, Washington with my friend, Nathan.  As we were looking down over the top, we started a conversation about the fear of heights.  About how this fear has to be learned.  We mused about the certain fact that if a newborn baby were held over the edge of this massive structure, it wouldn’t know any better than to coo and sleep or smile or drool or whatever the heck it was already doing before it was suspended 600+ feet above the ground.  It wouldn’t have learned fear at that point.  Until you have fallen, or seen someone else fall, you can’t know that it would hurt to do so.  Right?

Well, we aren’t newborn babies.  And each and every one of us has fallen.

And it hurt.

It’s only natural to be more careful of the fall now, right?  But here’s the deal.  If you never climb up that high again, you’ll never get the opportunity to see all the beautiful sights that can only be seen from that height.  Sure, you are 100% certain to never fall if you never climb, but rather than refusing to climb altogether, how about just taking a look around for a second.  See the guard rails.  The safety nets.  The many, many that have gone before you and haven’t fallen.  Sure, there’s a chance that you could fall anyway. I know that.  But you have to ask yourself – is it really worth it to stand on the ground and miss what everyone else is up there seeing?

Is it?

“You may be deceived if you trust too much, but you will live in torment if you don’t trust enough.”
– Frank Crane

Yeah.  That.

Stop blaming others.  Ok?  Recognize that the fear exists because you allow it to.  Start making choices today to help undo the damage that you have caused yourself.  Life’s too short for anything else, isn’t it?

Come with me, and let’s climb up there and take a look around, ok?  There is sooo much to see.

Ready?

***

“The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them.”
– Ernest Hemingway

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24

Jul. ’13

Me

me

“What a laugh, though.  To think that one human being could ever really know another.  You could get used to each other, get so habituated that you could speak their words right along with them, but you never know why other people said what they said or did what they did, because they never even know themselves.  Nobody understands anybody.”
– Orson Scott Card

I am going through a very hard time right now.  The reason?  Doesn’t matter.  Just another hard time – you know how it is.  You have them too.  It would be great if life stayed up there on those peaks all the time, but we all know that the trail dips to the valleys every now and then.

And it sucks.

But this time, I’m starting to realize something.  Most problems we have (all of us – not just me), at their very core, exist because people just don’t understand one another.  And like the quote above illustrates, how can we?  We don’t even understand ourselves.

Well, I don’t know if you care or not, but I’m going to use this blog to try to understand myself.  I’m getting ready to describe…me.

And you know what?  Maybe by the end of it, you’ll understand me too.  And hey, who knows?  Maybe this might even help you understand you.  Or at least try.  That’s all we can do, right?

“Walk with me for awhile, my friend—you in my shoes, I in yours—and then let us talk.”  
– Richelle E. Goodrich

I am passionate.

I mean, seriously.  I don’t half-ass anything.  When I feel something, I freakin feel it.  As you can imagine, that can go both ways.  When I love you, I soooo love you.  I’m hopelessly devoted and cannot even imagine being with anyone else.  But when a negative emotion hits?  You’re going to get the same intensity as the positive.  If I’m mad, I’m furious.  If you hurt me, I’m crushed.

I am innocent.

I hate to admit that, but I am.  I’m naïve.  I truly don’t understand this new world that we’re in where relationships have become casual and ‘hooking up’ seems to be the norm.  I don’t desire to go out and drink until the wee hours of the morning.  I have no desire whatsoever to ‘date.’  I am the most happy when I’m in a loving, committed relationship.  Nothing else will do for me. My preferred past-time is hanging out with a bunch of kids and goofing off – not partying.  Does that make me a dud?  I guess.

I am loyal.

Once I am committed to something, I’m in.  You can trust me 150%.  There are no gray areas.

I am obsessive.

I admit it.  I find it so incredibly hard to get my mind off of whatever is bothering me.  I want to fix it.  And a lot of people’s way of ‘fixing’ something is to find something else to temporarily ease the pain.  Not me.  I want to talk it to death; beat it to death; squeeze it until every last drop of life is gone.  I have lost a lot of people I love this way because I tend to love people who are exactly the opposite.  People who need their time and space to deal with things.  I have always hated this about myself.

I am intensely intuitive.

I know when something is not right.  Maybe that stems from my extreme interest in other people.  People fascinate me, so I pay attention to them.  I watch what they do and figure out why they do it.  So, with that being the case, I can usually spot when something is not right. I  know the signs and signals.  The problem with this?  The problem is that while yes, something may be off, my overactive imagination turns what may be a little molehill into Mount Everest.  I picture the absolute worst scenario in my head and assume that is the case until I know otherwise.  Then, when I find out otherwise, it’s hard to put what I’ve found out in place of what I already assumed to be true.  That sucks.

I am honest.

To a fault.  I lay it ALL out there.  Whether you want it or not.  And the problem with that?  I expect others to be that way too.  And then I’m crushed when they’re not.  I wish I were a better liar.  I wish I could be mysterious.  I wish, I wish, I wish.  But it’s not going to happen.  It’s not who I am.  And since it’s not who I am, I am especially sensitive to it in other people.  I don’t understand it, and I am deeply wounded by it.  Once I’ve seen dishonesty, it’s really, really, hard for me to unsee it.

I am forgiving.

I fully understand that this may seem to counteract what I just said.  But it doesn’t.  You’ve heard of forgiving and forgetting?  Well, the forgiving part is easy for me.  I have forgiven so many things over the years.  I understand that people make mistakes.  I hope people understand that I make mistakes too.  Crap happens.  But forgetting?  *Sigh*  Sadly, forgetting is not my specialty.  Can one exist without the other?  I don’t know, you tell me.

And finally, one last thing.

I like myself.

It’s true.  Yes, I’ve just mentioned some things that aren’t so great about my personality.  But I’ve listed some things that I think are pretty honorable too.  I have finally – FINALLY – come to a place in my life where I realize that I’m just really not that bad.  I fully understand that some people cannot accept my blunt, intense nature.  But I just absolutely cannot change who I am.  Just like they can’t change who they are.  We just have to learn to live together, you know?  Flaws, differences, quirks.  We just have to accept ourselves for who we are, and accept others for who they are.  That’s the only choice we have.

Now that I’ve written this, I’m not sure what the point was really.  I guess I’m just hoping to be understood.  That’s all we’re ever hoping for, isn’t it?  Do you see yourself in anything I’ve described?  Are you the complete opposite?  Is someone you love like me?  Do you think understanding them might help?

It’s your turn.

Who are you?

There may be someone that could really benefit from you letting them know.  It could be a start to mending something that is broken.

I sure hope so.  Life is way too short for the alternative.

***

“Before we can forgive one another, we have to understand one another.”
– Emma Goldman

Posted by . Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings. Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . 1 Comment

22

Jul. ’13

Naked Eyes

“Into every life a little rain must fall
And that’s the way that it will always be
But you seem to think you can keep the hurt away
Just by pretending you don’t see.”
– George Jones lyrics

Morning arrives.  As it always does.

The sunlight shines through the slats in the blinds of her bedroom and, one by one, the rays begin to touch her face like the impatient tiny hands of a small child.  She smiles a sleepy, happy smile and slips out of bed ready to start her day.  As she walks to the bedroom door, she has the sudden sensation that she might have forgotten something, but can’t quite put her finger on what it might be.  After only a slight hesitation, she proceeds to open her bedroom door and step into her life.

Something is wrong.

Immediately, she notices that things look…well, different.  She can’t quite explain what it is.  It’s just different.  Her life is there, the same as it was yesterday.  The people, the surroundings, everything is in its rightful place.  But it’s all shadowed somehow.  The hue is wrong.  Something is off.

She begins to interact with the people in her life, but they are different.  Gone are the halos from yesterday, and in their place are shadows.  Frowns have replaced smiles.  Insults have replaced compliments.  In the span of one night, everyone has become needy.  Selfish.  They pull at her.  Grasp at her. Want from her.

What is happening?

She knows everything is wrong, and yet she still has a role to play.  The world around her has changed, but she still must perform.  She is a mother, a child, a sibling, an employee, a loved one.  She must continue.  She must try to pretend that everything is not different.

The show must go on.

But how?  Everything is different.

And these people – these people she barely even recognizes anymore – they clamour; they pull; they expect.  They get angry when she’s not the same as she was yesterday.  How can she be the same?  Don’t they see?  Don’t they understand that everything she thought her world to be just yesterday suddenly…isn’t?

Have they known this all along?  Was she the only one who hadn’t seen the world this way?  Was there a secret she wasn’t let in on?

And why now?

She just wants to go back to yesterday.

She trudges through her day, trying to love the strangers that have replaced the cast of her life.  She breathes in, she breathes out.  She manages.

Finally, this day in her new life is complete.

She is back home.  She heads to her bedroom; her sanctuary.  Everything will be better there.  She starts towards her bedside…

And stops in her tracks.

There it is.

How could she have forgotten?  She knows this gear is expected of her.  Necessary to her survival.  She learned this lesson long ago.  And yet here she went an entire day without it.  How stupid of her.  How careless.

For there, lying right at her bedside table where she had left them, were her most important accessory.  The item she wore everyday and refused to forget had somehow slipped her mind this morning.  And now, here they were.  Waiting to make everything right.

On her nightstand, lay her pair of rose-colored glasses.

Ahhhh.  Now, she is reminded of why she wears them.  Now she remembers the time before she found them.  Before she knew of their importance.  Usually she only allowed herself to take them off before drifting off to sleep – only allowing her natural sight to escape in her dreams.  The natural sight was too blinding for the daytime.  Too uncomfortable.  Too real.  Her eyes had stung too many times before she found these precious shields.

How could she have forgotten them?

She climbs into bed, and drifts off to sleep.

***

Morning arrives.  As it always does.

Again, the childlike “hands” of sunshine reach through the blinds and caress her into consciousness.  She does as she does every morning, and immediately reaches for her glasses.

And then she remembers.

Yesterday.

Had it been a dream?  Surely she wouldn’t have gone a day without them, right?  Surely what she had seen was not real.  Those people in her life – she hadn’t seen beneath the surfaces, right?

Had she?

No.  Of course not.

No.

She shrugs off the thought, places her glasses back where they belong, and prays that what has been seen can be unseen.

She turns the knob, takes a deep cleansing breath, and steps into her life.

All is well.

***

“But these rose-colored glasses
That I’m looking through
Show only the beauty
And hide all the truth.”
– John Conlee lyrics

rose-colored-glasses

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12

Jul. ’13

Toes

I’m going to tell you a story about my toes.

(Yep.  She’s seriously blogging about her toes…)

You know how some people have a second toe that is longer than their big toe?  Well, holy llamas, this girl right here has a second toe that could eat her big toe for breakfast.  And still be hungry.  Oh yes, I was cursed with the longest second toe known to man.  In fact, all of my toes are pretty long.  As my boyfriend’s son recently told me, “You could play piano with those things.”

(I’m thinking of actually looking into that, by the way…)

Or another of my favorite toe stories…I once had a few actor friends crash at my house for a night when I lived the closest to a venue we had travelled to for a performance.  When everyone awoke the next morning, I asked them how they slept.  There were the obligatory “fine” responses, of course, but then…..sigh.  Then there was Evan.  Dramatic little Evan’s response?  “Well, I slept okay, but I had this nightmare.  It was awful.  I dreamed I was lying in bed sleeping and suddenly I felt something wrapped around my neck trying to choke me.  I opened my eyes, and it was your toes, Melissa!”

Ha ha.  Veeeeery funny.

So, yeah.  I’m kinda known for my horrendous toes.  And you know what I used to do?  I used to hide them.  I dreaded summer.  All the girls would pull out their cutesy little flip flops and sandals, but not this girl.  Nope, I was sporting tennis shoes no matter what time of year it was.  There was no way I was going to show the world my hideous toes.  Some things you just want to keep hidden.

But one day, that changed.  And I don’t mean that in a generic sense of the term “one day.”  I mean, I remember the exact day.

It was a particularly hot summer day and there I was sporting my tennis shoes, as usual.  I was standing in line at a gas station to pay and was looking down at the ground while I waited.  While looking down, I happened to notice the feet in front of me.  They were some chick’s cutesy little toes in a pair of cutesy little flip flops.  Of course.  I’m not gonna lie…the green-eyed monster in me started rearing its ugly head right then and there.  Why, oh why, couldn’t I have feet like that?  Why couldn’t I have the cutesy little toes and wear the cutesy little shoes?  Why did this chick get the cute toes and not me?  What a lucky, lucky girl she is.

And then I looked up.

Along with the cutesy feet, you know what else this girl had?

A bald head. 

She was a cancer patient.

Suddenly, a million memories came flooding back to me.  A few years prior to this, I too had been a bald cancer patient.  And, at the time, I was absolutely mortified by the fact that I was a 17-year-old girl with no hair.  I didn’t have the maturity yet to realize that being bald was such a small price to pay for the medicine that was saving my life.  No, I was too self-conscious and insecure for that.  I was just worried about how I looked.  I wouldn’t let anyone take any pictures of me without my wig on, so I have no documentation whatsoever of that time in my life.  Once I was finally able to return to school to finish my senior year, I remember a lot of the kids telling me to just take my hot, itchy wig off and wear scarves or something to make myself more comfortable.  But nope.  Silly me.  I wasn’t ready to uncover something that I felt was a flaw, even though I knew that I would be loved and embraced  regardless.

I have often looked back on that time over the years and wished that I would have just taken that thing off.  It was silly to hide behind it.  It was hot; it was uncomfortable; and I would have felt soooo much better if I would have just stopped worrying about how I looked, and just let my bald head shine for all the world to see.  It was nothing to be ashamed of.  I couldn’t help it.  I was beautiful – not in spite of my bald head, but because of it.

And now, here I was, hiding something else.  My stupid toes.

Psssh.

I silently applauded pretty-toe-girl for her confidence and strength and went home and took those uncomfortable, stupid tennis shoes off and started wearing flip-flops and sandals from that day forward.

True story.

So, why am I telling you this?

Well, first of all, I’m just warning you that – ugly toes and all – you are all about to see a whole big bunch of those annoying “toes in the sand” pictures from my beach trip next week.  My boyfriend Richard’s family does a big family beach trip every year in July and this year I’ve been upgraded from “the girl who feeds his animals while he’s away” to the girl who actually gets to GO on the trip.  Woohoo!  I’m always jealous of those pretty toe pictures at the beach that you see floating around, so I’m fully prepared to add my monstrosities to the mix.

But aside from that ugly toe warning to the general public, the real reason I’m telling you this story is that I hope maybe you’ll take something from it.  Do you have something you’re hiding?  Well, stop that.  Maybe it’s something physical like ugly toes, or maybe it’s something a little deeper.  Some part of you that you think people wouldn’t accept if they ‘saw’ it.  Either way – stop it right now.  There is no logical reason to hide something that makes you who you are.  Whatever it is, own it.  One day you’ll look back and wish you had.

Be comfortable.  Be confident.  Be you.

Show your toes. 

Got it?

Oh.  And I just don’t have the heart to make you read all this and not actually get to see my ugly toes.  So, here ya go…

toesblog

***

“I got my toes in the water, ass in the sand
Not a worry in the world, a cold beer in my hand
Life is good today. Life is good today.”
– Zac Brown Band lyrics

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09

Jul. ’13

Criticism

criticism2

You know what’s really, really hard to do?

Not letting people’s opinions of you matter.

You know what’s even harder than that?

Not letting people’s opinions of your work matter.  And by work, I mean my writing.

Now, granted, I don’t get paid to write.  (Well, I did once, but I don’t see that becoming a regular thing.)  But I honestly view writing as “work” in a way.  No, I don’t get a paycheck, but I do get compensation.  And that compensation lies in a feeling of accomplishment.  A deep knowing that I’m doing what I’m meant to do.  I don’t know if anything I have said thus far has made a difference to anyone else, but I know it has made a difference to me.  I have opened up; I have taken a chance; and I have bared myself for all the world to see.  Do you have any clue how hard that is to do?  It does get easier as time goes by, mind you.  But those early days of tossing around the idea in my mind to start a blog were so nerve-wracking.  Until you’ve done it, or done something similar, you can’t understand.  I remember my hands trembling each time I pressed that big blue “publish” button.  Because each time I pressed it, I was saying, “Here I am.  What do you think?”

Now, most people have answered that “What do you think?” question in a very positive way.  Including, as I briefly mentioned before, a panel of judges in the first writing contest I had ever entered.  But there has been one person who hasn’t seen it so favorably.

And isn’t it just crazy how one person’s negative voice can speak so much more loudly in your head than many others’ positive ones?

Why is that?  Why do we allow that to happen?

Sigh.

So, honestly, there’s really no point to this blog.  I’m just venting.  Like she says, I’m just “throwing together a bunch of whiney crap.”

But hey, it’s my blog, and I’ll whine if I want to.

Something I have always taught my kids is this: When someone hurts you, let them serve as a lesson to you about the kind of person that you don’t want to be.  I hope I have never, ever, made someone feel the way this girl has made me feel.  Thank you, unkind person, for providing such a glaring example of how not to treat your fellow human beings.

I’m so glad I’m not you.

***

“Criticism really used to hurt me.  Most of these critics are usually frustrated artists and they criticize other people’s art because they can’t do it themselves.  It’s a really disgusting job.  They must feel horrible inside.”
– Rosanna Arquette

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05

Jul. ’13

Through the Sunroof

fireworkssunroof

This is a picture I took last night as I watched the fireworks from inside my car during the rain.  Pretty cool, huh?

Only….maybe not.

Sigh.

Ok, so one of the “gifts” I’ve been blessed (cursed?) with in my life is that I can never just see something on the surface.  I always look deeper, see beneath the layer of obvious.  And this is one of those times.

So, yes, it was raining.  And yes, sitting inside the car kept me from getting wet.  But I was sitting there alone.  My daughter and her friend had gotten out of the car, rain be darned, and were watching the fireworks close by while looking for other friends and not caring whether they got soaked or not.  They were having fun.  Me?  I was sitting in the safe, warm, dry, lonely car.

And that reminded me of something.

That’s how I am with friendships.

Alright, let me back up a little.

Earlier in the day, I had taken my daughter and her friend to the Independence Day parade.  While she and her friend met up with other friends and had a good time watching the parade, I stood off to the side.  Again, alone.  (My boyfriend Richard had to work.)  And standing there alone watching the parade, I noticed that my eyes kept getting drawn to a group of women to my right.  While I was supposed to be watching the marching band, the ambulances, and the classic cars roll by, instead I caught myself watching the spectators.  Especially these particular ones.  There were this group of five older ladies, and they were just about the cutest things I’d ever seen.  They were decked out in Independence Day attire – complete with little headbands with fake fireworks and their matching flag-sporting t-shirts and red capris.  And let me tell ya – these women were having a blast.  They were hooting and hollering and thought each and every float that went by was the best one of all.  I know, because I heard them say so.  They were clapping along with the music and stopping every so often to put their arms around each other and bask in the glory of the day.

I was in awe.

I mean, yes, they were a sight to behold so I’m sure I wasn’t the only one whose attention they caught.  But aside from that, seeing them struck a chord in me that I couldn’t quite explain.  I didn’t know why it made me a little sad to see them, but it did.  I didn’t give it much thought – just went back to my business.  But later that night, sitting there alone in the car watching the fireworks through my sunroof, it finally dawned on me where that sadness came from.

I don’t have that.

And it’s my own fault.

You hear talk all the time of people holding back from relationships because of trust issues and fear, etc.  That seems to be a common topic of discussion amongst our psychology-driven fellow citizens.  But I wonder if there maybe shouldn’t be a little talk about how that might apply to friendships sometimes too?  Am I the only one that holds back from becoming close to friends?  That has trouble relating and depending on others? Especially women?

Now, granted, I do have one good friend from high school that I turn to when things go wrong.  And I’d like to think she does the same with me.  Her name is Iman (but we always called her MiMi in high school, so that’s how I’ll refer to her from her on).  But Mimi is far away and most of our talks are by computer or text (my fault, not hers).  I can’t help but see the psychology behind that.  The only female friend that I really rely on is still kept at a safe distance through not only actual physical distance, but also through the ways that I choose to communicate with her.  She would love to chat on the phone sometimes, and we have a few times, but somehow I tend to shy away from it.  Too personal, maybe?  The times we have talked by phone were the times when I was at my most vulnerable – when I was extremely upset and was finally forced into letting a friend “in.”  But other than those times?  I don’t know, I just tend to stay guarded.  Alone.

(Note:  “Far away” Mimi is not going to be so far away very soon.  She’s moving close to where I am in about a month.  I guess it’s time to start figuring out what the heck is wrong with me, huh?)

Now, don’t get me wrong.  I’ve tried.  I have started to make close girlfriends (ones that are actually physically nearby).  But like MiMi says, “Girl friendships take time.  They are just like guy relationships, but there’s no initial attraction or hormone release that feel good like with the opposite sex. So, it just takes time to bond.”

Well there ya go.  Therein lies part of my problem, I suppose.  To put your time and effort into something requires trust that it’s going to be worth it in the end.  And “trust?”  Yeah, I’m not so good at that.  When the going gets tough, this tough girl gets going.  Right on out the door.

I don’t really have a point to this blog, I don’t suppose.  I guess it’s just one of those times when I felt like writing about something that was really bothering me – the things that I sometimes try to keep to myself, but that my writer’s brain can’t ignore.  I guess I also would like some feedback.  Are you like this?  Any idea why I am?  Got any good drugs I can borrow?

Ok, that last one was a joke.

Sort of.

But seriously – I guess it’s time for me to start getting out of the car, ya know?  Time to get out there and watch the fireworks on the big screen of life, instead of through the tiny little sunroof of safety.  Yes, I may get a little wet from the rain at times, but oh what a sight I will behold.

Time to realize that it might be worth a few raindrops in order to fully experience the performance, right?

***

“Standing outside the fire
Standing outside the fire
Life is not tried it is merely survived
If you’re standing outside the fire”
– Garth Brooks lyrics, Standing Outside the Fire

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03

Jul. ’13

Attention

Warning.  Snark Alert.

Oh yeah, this one is going to be a little snarky.  Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

If you’re a regular follower of my blog, you are aware that most of my writing is on the ‘upbeat’ side.  There’s usually a lesson learned or a happy ending and so forth.  I try not to make it too cheesy, but I like to put a positive spin on life’s little ‘events.’  It’s how I get through them.  And I hope that maybe it might help some of my readers see their own situations with a new positive light.  Hey, it could happen.  No point floating through the world only seeing the bad, right?  Might as well make lemonade and whatnot.

But sometimes….

Sigh.

Sometimes things just piss me off.  And I’m not so sure there’s going to be a positive spin to put on it.  So, brace yourself.

Now, I fully understand that my writings and the things I share aren’t everyone’s cup of tea.  And that’s cool.  Whatev.  I’m not writing for you.  I’m writing for the ones who do want to read it.  (And I’m writing for myself – unloading some of this stuff in my brain to make room for other important things.)  So, basically, if you don’t like my stuff, that’s fine.  My blog and my Facebook posts are not required reading on some syllabus.  Move along.  It’s that simple.

But someone criticized me pretty harshly the other day.  They remarked that not everyone wants to read about my frilly, unimportant love life and that there are bigger things going on in the world.  And most notably – that I should stop all of these “cries for attention” with my Facebook and blog posts.

Alrighty then.

Let me tell you a little something.

I’m not stupid.  I don’t hide my head in the sand and refuse to see the events of the world around me.  You think I don’t know that bad things are happening in the world?  You think I don’t know that there are children starving in other countries?  You think I don’t know that our own country is being ripped apart by differing views on gay rights, abortion stances, lingering racism, etc.  You think I’m an idiot?  Well, I’m not.  I have a newspaper.  I have the internet.  I have a brain.

But you know what makes me different from you?

I purposely and actively choose to pay attention to the things that make me happy.

“Tell me to what you pay attention and I will tell you who you are.”
– Jose  Ortega y Gasset

Yes, those things make me sad.  Yes, I care.  Yes, I wish there was something I could do about it.  But there’s not.  Yes, it sucks that Paula Deen was/is racist.  Yes, it sucks that that signifies that there are still racial issues in this country.  But my choosing not to jump on the bandwagon of criticism and shunning her does not make me uncaring.  And it most definitely does not make me a racist.  I just understand what I can and cannot change.  One woman being an ass is not something that I have time and energy to devote to right now.  Who knows what was said and done by her?  And frankly, why should we care?  Really.  Why?  Is it a shock to you that someone in this world is racist?  Well, it shouldn’t be.  A lot of people are.  A lot of people also hate gay people and think they shouldn’t be afforded the same rights as the rest of us.  A lot of people still think women shouldn’t be in affluent positions.  A lot of people are jerks.  This shouldn’t be a newsflash.

So, no.  My blog is not centered around Paula Deen or racism or third world countries.  You’re right.  It’s not.  It’s about the things that I have in my world on a regular basis.  It’s about the battles I choose and not about the ones I don’t.

And yes, maybe I do write for “attention.”  I mean, is that really a shocker?  I’m a writer, for God’s sake.  We write to be read.  I’m also an actor.  Hello?  An actor looking for attention?  SHOCKING!  It’s who I freakin’ am.  And besides, I’m not doing anything any different than anyone else who ever posts a Facebook status.  We all just want to be heard.  Regardless of the topic.  Regardless of whether it’s uber important current issues, or whether it’s the cutesy happy events of everyday life.  If you don’t want to hear about my everyday happy life, then move along.

And hey, just for good measure, let me just wrap this up with a little lovey dovey picture of me and Richard.

changeblog

Awwwww.  Ain’t it sweet?  We’re so in love.

Oh and hey.  Here.  Look at this picture of a cute little puppy.

puppy

How’s that?

For my regular readers, I apologize for the sarcasm.  I hope you’ll be back.  This is just a temporary vent.  It happens.

But to my criticizer?

Thanks for the attention. 😉

But hey, on a serious note: I truly hope you can find happiness in your life so that you can stop focusing on the things that make you miserable.  I used to be just like you.  It’s a sad, sad place to be.  When you want to enact change, focusing on the negative is not going to work.  Broadcasting the negative is not going to work.  Screaming at the people who disagree with you is not going to work.

“Be the change you wish to see in the world.”
– Mahatma Gandhi

You want things to change, something to disappear, something to go way?  Stop feeding it.  Stop spreading it.

If you have an unwelcomed dinner guest, stop setting a place for them at your table.

It’s that simple.  (Believe me – I’ve had to learn that lesson myself lately.)

You alone cannot change how someone else thinks – you can’t change the whole world with one mean-spirited Facebook post.  But you can change your world.  Choose what you concentrate on.  Choose where you put your energies.

Choose happiness.

I’m not saying one person can’t eventually change the world.  Maybe they can.  But I’m certain that they should probably start with changing their own world first.

***

“A positive attitude causes a chain reaction of positive thoughts, events and outcomes.  It is a catalyst and it sparks extraordinary results.”
– Wade Boggs

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