Tag Archives: love

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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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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25

Jul. ’13

The Significance of Insignificance

significance

significance: (noun) the quality of being worthy of attention; importance.
– Dictionary.com

You know what I want?

To feel significant.

And you know why I want that?  Because that’s what everyone wants.  We are biologically programmed that way.  You know that whole “no man is an island” jazz?  Well, it’s true.  We, as human beings, do not want to be alone.  Generally speaking, of course.  We all want brief periods of alone time, yes.  But overall – we don’t want to feel isolated and unimportant.  We want to be a part of something.  Because being a part of something means that you matter.

Think about your life and the choices that you make.  Don’t they all eventually come down to this very core need?  I’ll give you an example from my own life.

I am involved with theatre.  This is a pretty blatant display of the need for significance.  You become a part of a group of people that are working together to create something.  If you’ve ever done theatre, then you’ve seen firsthand how each and every single person that is involved in any way is of the utmost importance.  From the outside looking in, it may seem that someone who does theatre is one who feels the need to ‘show off’ or ‘be seen.’  And maybe there’s some truth to that to an extent.  But I think it goes deeper than that.  I think it’s just like everything else.

It’s that need for significance.

Another example?  This blog.  Do I write this blog to ‘show off’?  I don’t think so.  In fact, I’m so insecure about my writing that I still second, third, fourth and seventy-second-guess myself every single time I’ve posted something.  No, it’s not showing off.  It’s wanting to put something out there in the world that might make a difference.  That might stick in someone’s mind and leave some kind of impression.  I want my time on this Earth, and this little talent I possess (if you can call it that), to be significant.

If you look at the things you choose to do in your own world, I think you might see what I’m talking about.  How somehow, someway, it all ends up coming back to that need.

Especially…yep, you guessed where I was headed with this…relationships.

I mean, think about it – what is the person you’re in a relationship with referred to?  Your significant other.  The word significant means ‘important.’  So you’re being referred to as the important other.  Now, come on, how cool is that, right?

But you know what’s not cool?

When you start feeling like the insignificant other.  THAT’s when the troubles start.

*Sigh*

You know what would be great?  If we could just go up to the people in our lives, whether it be your kid, your parent, your employer, or the person you love, and say, “Hey, maybe you didn’t mean for this to happen, but I’ve been feeling insignificant lately. Can you please offer some reassurance?”  Seems so simple, doesn’t it?  But nope.  That’s not what we silly humans usually do.  We’re way too proud for that.  No, we’d rather just pick a fight.  Now, I don’t think we do this consciously, mind you.  But it’s what ends up happening nonetheless.  We start accusing them of this, that, or the other.  We scream at them (and these can sometimes be silent screams…they hurt just as much) about what they’re doing wrong.  Or, in some cases, we may pull back and stop giving our best because we feel like it doesn’t matter anyway so why bother.  We do all these stupid little unnecessary things, when all they end up coming down to is simply….

I want to feel significant.

That’s it.

That’s all we’re trying to say.  Why is so darn hard to just come right out and say those words?  Geez.

Man, we humans sure are stupid sometimes.

Tell someone how much they mean to you.  Right now.  Go do it.  It may be all they needed to hear.

***

“The greatest weakness of most humans is their hesitancy to tell others how much they love them while they’re still alive.”
– Optimus Prime

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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

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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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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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01

Jul. ’13

Anniversary

“We are not the same persons this year as last; nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person.”
– W. Somerset Maugham

Today, July 1, is mine and Richard’s first anniversary.

Well, sort of.

I always hesitate before I write a “personal” blog like this.  And by personal, I don’t mean it’s stuff that I don’t want to share.  Shoot, I’ll share anything you want to know.  No, I mean “personal” in that, it’s my story.  It’s not a general blog that everyone can relate with.  It’s specific.  It’s mine.  But in the past, each time I went ahead and ignored my hesitation and posted a personal blog anyway, they always seem to get the most response.  At first, that used to baffle me.  But over time, I’ve come to realize that people just are generally interested in other people’s stories.  It’s what makes us all ‘connected.’ We like to know each other – know where we come from, why we are the way we are, how we got to the point we got to.  And then we like to see similarities in our own situations and compare our story to theirs.  It’s just part of the human experience.  All of these individual stories work together to create unique squares on the tapestry of humanity.

So, no hesitation this time.  Here’s my contribution to the “quilt.”

I’m just going to tell you a little bit about us – about how happy I am and about how it wasn’t easy getting here.  And maybe you won’t get too bored with it.  This is not your typical lovey dovey “how we met and fell in love” story.

No, our story isn’t quite so cut and dry as that.

Richard and I have trouble deciding what our exact “anniversary” is.  And the reason for that is that we had a little bit of a bumpy start.  There’s no precise before & after line.  There’s a huge pile of gray area.  (And I’m willing to bet that a lot of other couples have this kind of story too.)

Richard and I were a “set up” of sorts.  I had just joined a new theatre and was, yet again, newly single.  A co-actor mentioned Richard’s name once in a “I have a friend I think you’d like…” kind of way back in April of 2012. (I still owe you for that, Barry!)  My initial reaction, of course, was the proud single lady’s response of, “No thanks.  I’m perfectly fine being single.  I don’t need a man to complete me…” blah, blah, blah.  But the second Barry had left the room?  I had my cell phone out looking up this Richard guy on Facebook.  I wasn’t going to “add” him or anything like that.  I mean, come on.  I wasn’t that pathetic.  But stalk him?  Oh yeah.  That was totally acceptable, right?

Well, a few days later, I get a Facebook add from said Richard.  (Hmmm…guess Barry mentioned his little idea to both of us, not just me.)  I added him, and sent a message saying pretty much that very thing.  We laughed about it and proceeded to write back and forth for a few weeks.  I don’t know what it was about those messages, but I was so intrigued by this guy.  First of all, his grammar and punctuation were spot on.  I mean, hello!?  We ALL know that is of the utmost importance in determining potential, right?  But even aside from gaining this wanna-be English teacher’s approval with all the capital letters and periods, he also impressed me with the subjects he wanted to talk about.  We talked about our kids, my theatre, and his music.  All things that were very important to us.  No stupid flirty “hey baby, you wanna go out sometime?” nonsense.  Just real life “here’s what’s important in my life” talk.  I liked that.

So, we planned to meet.

Ironically, our first meeting took place at the theatre.  His son was auditioning for the next summer musical, Oliver, and I was planning to be there as well.  So, since we were both going to be in town, and his son was going home with his mom after the audition, we decided to plan to meet there and then go out to dinner afterwards.  (Little did we know at the time how instrumental that theatre was going to be in the “story of us.”)

Oh my gosh, I was a nervous wreck.  What do I wear?  What do I talk about?  Will I even recognize this dude from his pictures? Will we be able to talk in person like we’ve done on Facebook?  I had heard that this guy was the “quiet, shy type.”  What in the heck would we have in common??  “Quiet” and “shy” were two words that had never – not once – been used to describe me.  I was exactly the opposite.

Well, worries aside, the meeting went pretty smoothly.  I recognized him immediately.  We walked in together; sat together; chatted about a million things (ok, maybe that was just me chatting nervously, but whatever).  Went to dinner afterwards.  And then again the next night.  And then again the next night.  In fact, we pretty much jumped in head first.

Here’s a picture of us on one of our first dates.

anniversary1

We went from “single and hurting over a past relationship,” to “in a new relationship” in the drop of a hat.

And boy was that a BAD idea.

After about a week of that, it fizzled.  Ok, I’m lying.  It didn’t fizzle.  He got scared and ran.  I was hurt, but at the same time, not surprised.  Deep down, I knew he wasn’t ready, and frankly, neither was I.  Oh well.  No harm done, right?  Move along.

But darn it.

There was just something about that guy.

I went on to get involved with Oliver at the theatre.  My daughter decided to get involved with the theatre for the first time and was cast as one of the orphan boys, along with Richard’s son, Riley.  I spent a lot of one-on-one time with the kids and ended up being crazy about Riley.  And so was my daughter.  They became fast friends.  Soon after, Riley’s little sister Lauren joined the cast and we became just as close to her.  It was so hard not to adore his kids.  But what a strange situation.  I date this guy temporarily, he disappears from my life, and suddenly, I find myself falling in love with his kids when he was nowhere around.  Weird.

So, eventually, as showtime neared, Richard started spending some time at the theatre as well.  We were both new runners, so we kept to the safe subject of running and avoided any mention of having dated before.  Eventually, the talks of running turned into talks about the kids.  And talks about the theatre.  And talks about his music.  And finally, hesitantly, to talks about why the two of us hadn’t worked out.  He finally told me his story of his past relationship and how he had jumped the gun in moving on.  I told him my past stories as well and eventually…well, I don’t know.  We became friends.  Really good friends.  I decided maybe this is what had been fated all along.  Maybe we weren’t meant to be a couple, per se.  We had so much in common – kids in the theatre, being performers ourselves, being new runners, both of our professions being the real estate field.  Yes, he was quiet and I was loud.  But that didn’t matter – we had enough in common to make us drawn to each other.  I was just going to have to accept that it was to be in a “friends” aspect and not in the romance department.

Psssh.

Yeah, I could tell myself that crap all day long.  But then I’d pass him backstage in the dark wings and my heart would flutter.  I knew I couldn’t just be his friend.  I knew it.  But I had to do what I had to do.  I wanted this man in my life and I was just going to have to accept that I didn’t get to choose the specific role he played.

And then…well, something changed.

I got stung by a bee.

No, really.  I got stung by a bee and the whole dynamic of who we were changed.  (I’m not sure if he’d tell this story the same way I am, but after reading this, I think he’ll see it for what it was too.)

The show had ended and our “required” time together had passed by.  There were no longer circumstances that would put us in the same place at the same time.  We continued texting and talking, and even had a “friendly” dinner together one evening.  But that whole “couple” thing was still just not happening.

Cue the bee sting.

The weekend before Independence Day, we were doing separate things – he was off with friends and I was at the pool with my kids.  While packing our things to leave the pool, I got stung on the back.  I didn’t think much of it (other than the passing thought that I couldn’t remember having been stung by a bee since I was a small child, if even then) and we went on about our business.  But as we were getting in the car, I realized  that something was wrong.  My throat started closing up and I began to get welts all over me.  I was having an allergic reaction.  Here I was, the only adult out with two kids and I wasn’t exactly sure what to do.  I was still able to drive to the gas station nearby, and I had my son go in and buy me some Benadryl.  Eventually, the symptoms passed somewhat and I was able to drive home.  All in all, it was a pretty scary situation.  But I got through it and just realized that I better carry Benadryl with me from then on.  Apparently I’m allergic to bees.  Who knew?

So, later that night, Richard texts and asks about my day.  I tell him about the bee scenario and he responds, “Why didn’t you call me?”

Huh?

Why didn’t I call him?  Why would I have called him?  What did it have to do with him?

And then, it dawned on me.  I wondered if he was starting to see me in that way.  In the, “I’m the one she should call when she needs someone” way.  And the next day, I got my answer.  He asked me to come over.  And I did.  That’s when he told me that this weekend had felt different.  That at one point, he realized that he missed me.

That we should have been together.

And there you have it.  That was July 1.  So, we decided we’d use that day as the day we became “official.”

I wish I could tell you that it was happily ever after from that day forward.  But it wasn’t.  We still had some issues to overcome.  We still had some annoying little “past” pests to swat away at times.  Even let it break us up once for a while.  (And you know what put us back together?  Yet again – the theatre.  I was cast as his son’s mom in a production.  So, as much as we wanted to be apart, life wouldn’t let us.  Thank goodness for the theatre.)

So, yes, there have been some tough times, but we’ve managed.  We just keep finding our way back somehow.

See, that’s the thing about something that’s meant to be.  No matter how much you try to fight it, it always manages to happen anyway.  In spite of you.

So, no.  The first year of our story hasn’t been the typical fairy tale.  (And really, whose love story is?)  We’ve seen each other through the good and bad, through the best and worst of our personalities.  By starting out as friends, we came to know each other in a different way than we would have if we had continued dating from the beginning.  We told each other the truth.  We exposed the “ugly” underneath and, lo and behold, we’re still here.

We’re still here.

Warts and all.

anniversary3

I love this man with all of my heart.  And I know, without a doubt, that he loves me too.

And I can guarantee you that I’ll be here blogging on July 1, 2014, about all that happened in Year #2.

Because when you know, you just know.

Happy Anniversary, sweetheart.

***

“If you meet somebody and they love you when you are your true, awful, not-ready-yet, boring, not cool enough, not handsome enough, not pretty enough, too fat, too poor self?  And if you love them back so much that it makes you calm? And they have flaws and you do not mind a single one of them?….If you found that, you found it.”
– Augusten Burroughs

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26

Jun. ’13

Tomorrow

Well, it’s here!

annie2

Tomorrow night is finally opening night for ANNIE!  And I couldn’t let this day go by without a blog shout-out to my daughter, Kelly.  Tomorrow night, she will walk out onto a stage in front of a room full of people and say her first spoken line in a show ever.

Her first spoken line.  And she’s Annie!

I am blown away by the transformation I’ve seen in my little girl over the past few months of Annie rehearsals.  This is the girl who only showed up for auditions in hopes of possibly being one of the orphans (hopefully with no spoken lines), or maybe even just to help backstage like she has done in a few shows in the past.  When she was cast as Annie, she was almost in tears.  And not the happy kind either.  I’m talking more along the lines of the “Oh-my-gosh-what-have-I-gotten-myself-into-help-momma-get-me-out-of-this” kind.

And I’ll be honest with you.  I wasn’t so sure she could do it either.

Now, don’t get me wrong – I absolutely knew she was capable of it.  The girl has got a beautiful singing voice and can dance like nobody’s business.  And she looks the part, without a doubt.  But to have the courage to get up in front of all of these people and act?  I just wasn’t so sure.  She’s always been a “behind the scenes” kind of kid when it came to theatre.  I was the actor and she was the kid who would tag along with her mom to watch.

I remember taking her to her first professional theatre show (which was Annie, no less – at Barter Theatre in Abingdon, Virginia).  At one point, after being mesmerized myself by the phenomenal performance taking place in front of me, I glanced over to see Kelly’s reaction to the show.  And what was she doing?  The little thing was turned around backwards in her seat staring up at the lighting booth and the spotlight operator.  She was so much more interested in how they were making the show, rather than the show itself.  Yep, she loved theatre – but in a much different way than her momma did.  She wasn’t just interested in the acting.  She fell in love with the process.

And now here she is – the lead role in the summer musical.

It still seems so surreal to me.  It has been amazing watching her come out of her shell.  She didn’t just peep her head out from the shadows to see what was happening on the stage.  She made a huge, flying leap right into the spotlight.  And let me tell you – this is where she belongs.  And I think she’s starting to see that too.  All she needed was a little confidence.

And this brings me to the point I’m really trying to make with all of this.

print3I’m so incredibly proud of my daughter.  I mean, what mom wouldn’t be?  But that pride doesn’t come from the fact that she’s Annie.  Yes, she has learned to control her beautiful voice and sing songs that she thought she couldn’t manage just a few short months ago.  Yes, she has studied hard and learned her lines and rarely misses a beat.  Yes, she has done all of the things that make her a great little actress and has come a very long way since that scared little girl was given the news that she was going to be Annie.  But none of that is what makes me the most proud.

What makes me the most proud is watching as her confidence and ability soars to new heights, and yet her ego and humility have not budged.

She is the most gracious, most appreciative kid I think I’ve ever seen.  She takes compliments from people with a shy sweetness that does not indicate one little ounce of arrogance.  She sent out a mass email to the cast and crew last night thanking everyone for their hard work – from the make-up ladies to the costume maker and everyone in between.  She has learned first hand how much work it takes to create something this spectacular, and she appreciates each and every minute detail that has been put into making the show a success.  That’s something a lot of actors never take the time to see.  (I know I’ve been guilty of it myself at times.  Too often, actually.)

To excel at something, even attain a bit of greatness at it, and yet still maintain a humble heart?  That is something that is very hard to do.  It takes a special kind of person for that.  I think we could all learn a lesson or two from my little Annie.

And, in closing, I want to mention one more proud momma moment.

I too am in the show.  And last night – our second-to-last dress rehearsal before opening night – I felt completely miserable.  What is probably an ear and sinus infection (who has time or money to go to the doctor?) hit its peak last night and my body refused to cooperate any further.  For the first time in my career as an actor, I had to miss a dress rehearsal.  I couldn’t leave, of course, since I was little Annie’s ride home – so someone suggested that I go lie down on a couch in the lobby.  So, I did.  I took my feverish self to the lobby and crashed.  And no sooner did I lie down, than I was out like a light.  I only woke up about three times during the entire performance.  And you know why?

Once was when Kelly was bringing me a drink of water.

Another time was when she brought a blanket she found in the dressing room to put over me.

And the final time was when she came to tell me the show was over and that it was time to go home.

There she was in one of her final dress performances in her first starring role, and yet she took every down moment she had between her many costume changes and stage appearances, to come check on her sick mom.

Have I mentioned how proud I am of my daughter?  I want to be just like her when I grow up.

I know every mom is supposed to brag on our kids.  It’s our job.  But in my case?  In my case, I’ve got someone pretty special here that calls me Mommy.  She is definitely a star – on and off the stage.

So, break a leg, sweet girl!  It’s your turn to shine.

***

“It must have been cold there in my shadow
To never have sunlight on your face
You were content to let me shine, that’s your way
You always walked a step behind
So I was the one with all the glory,
while you were the one with all the strength.
A beautiful face without a name for so long.
A beautiful smile to hide the pain
Did you ever know that you’re my hero?
You’re everything I wish I could be
I can fly higher than an eagle
Because you are the wind beneath my wings.”
– Bette Midler, Wind Beneath My Wings

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19

Jun. ’13

Here and Now

“Yes, sometimes it’s tempting to think of what could’ve been. But what you really need to think of is what ‘would’ve‘ been. And that’s when you realize you’re exactly where you need to be.”
– Richard Edmondson

For those of you who are my Facebook friends, you probably already saw this quote that I posted over the weekend.  These words were spoken by my boyfriend, Richard.  As soon as I heard them, I knew they were quotable.  And as soon as I quoted him, I knew there was a blog here waiting to happen.

So, I sat down at a computer and I started to write.  I typed the quote at the top of the page and then….well.  Nothing happened.  Nothing.  Not one single sentence popped into my mind.  So much wisdom and meaning lying behind those words he said, and yet I – the one who can type for days about any given subject at any given time – can’t think of a single thing to say?  Not one more thing to add?  What’s up with that?

Hmmm.  Maybe the quote is so profound that it stands alone on its own.

Yep.  I think that’s it.

What else needs to be said really?

I mean, think about it.  How much of what you think you miss about something – whether it be a relationship from the past, an old home or an old job, a lost friendship, whatever the case may be – how much of that is actual memories and not just what you hoped it would become?  I’m betting not too much of it is real.  Be honest with yourself.  Take that thing that you can’t let go of and examine it through honest eyes for a minute.  Would it really be gone if it was as great as you thought it was?

Yes, it could’ve been great.  But would it have been?

Richard and I are not young.  We both had quite a few failed relationships in our past before we ever laid eyes on each other.  We have mountains of memories behind us, and each of us has our own share of regret that we carry along into this relationship from the ones prior.  Sometimes the past sneaks up on us and taps us on the shoulder.  It’s inevitable.  It happens.  It happens to us, and it’s going to happen to you.  It’s just how life works.  The key is knowing what to do when it happens.

Do you let it cause insecurities and chip away at your present situation?  Do you let it cause you doubt and make you second-guess your choices?  Do you let the fantasy steal the reality?

Or…?

Or do you do what my Richard does? Do you take a long, slow look around, see the beauty and the blessing in everything that your path has led you to, and wish the past a silent, thoughtful, heartfelt goodbye as you grab on tight to what you have now, safe in the knowledge that you’re exactly where you are meant to be?

I don’t know about you, but that second choice sure sounds a whole lot better to me.

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This is what it’s all about.  This is where we belong.  Not in all of the many yesterdays before us, and not in the vast span of tomorrows to come.  But right here.  Right now.  Right where we were meant to be.

Thanks for the reminder, sweetheart.

***

“I thought about one of my favorite Sufi poems, which says that God long ago drew a circle in the sand exactly around the spot where you are standing right now.  I was never not coming here.  This was never not going to happen.”
– Elizabeth Gilbert

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