We are not here to discover the things that we can not do- my yoga teacher.
Made me feel as though I became so powerful and limitless.
We are not here to discover the things that we can not do- my yoga teacher.
Made me feel as though I became so powerful and limitless.
I’m trying to do things in my life a little differently. I know my last post revealed that there was an ending in my ending with my beau, which hasn’t changed except for the little blip which lead to an evening of fevered painting.
A couple weeks ago, he and I started talking. He was on vacation and we hadn’t spoken in a while. I missed him, but I was adjusting to my decision of being alone even if it meant being lonely. Anyway, bla bla bla, you know how it feels to reconnect with someone you adore completely. My heart wanted to get out of my own body just to be near him. We talked about things we would do when he came back, sexually and otherwise. The more we talked, the more I felt we were missing the whole point of our ending in the first place. After the little time, I’d had without him, I felt I had made some progress and clarity. I wasn’t about to drop my reason for ending it, no matter how much I missed him (which I can’t really describe in words). I don’t really want to get into the nitty gritty here, even among strangers-but just know it’s a valid concern.
I wrote it all down. I laid it all out there, how I feel, what I want, my hope, everything naked. I used to be so afraid of those type of words but I guess I got to a point where I just feel like so what, I’m a person with feelings, big deal. And I knew in being honest with him, it would be over. He wouldn’t be able to agree to what I want, even if it was minimal. Actually, I will say. We dated a year and he refused to meet my family and friends. He met two friends on an accidental basis, one on an ambush that fueled our ending and the other as a drunken fluke/fiasco. And even though I know he cared about me in his way I just couldn’t take any more of feeling like a secret. I want something real, and I started to feel like with all these little gifts he mentioned he bought me on vacation, it was a distraction from what he would never give me. I don’t need a bracelet, I want a man who loves me. I don’t know why men do this. It’s not the same thing.
When a few days went by after me letting it all out, I knew he was having a hard time figuring out how to get around this and still sleep with me. I lost my appetite for sex. It doesn’t feel like a compliment for a man to want to fuck me. Men gawk at me all day, it’s not appealing. He finally acknowledged my email but gave excuses at why he couldn’t reply. “I want to reply properly, give me some time. ” I didn’t really want to hear it, we’ve been down this road before. A man who didn’t want to be without me wouldn’t let so much time go by. I let him out, I told him I knew what he would say and that it’s okay.
A day later, it’s not okay.
I wanted to tear every man’s face off who stared at me. I skipped yoga, bought paint supplies and starting painting ferociously. I was either too angry or bought shitty paint brushes (or a little of both) so I switched to an old toothbrush I use for cleaning. I pretended it was his (it wasn’t) but it did help. My regular coping method has always been drink a bottle of wine and get stupid, then spill my guts out and hate myself the next day. This time I’m not doing that shit. I haven’t even allowed myself to cry over hagen daaz, (or mac n cheese-my fave). I’ve been taking care of myself, I’m focused on becoming a woman to respect. I got some of it out, and turned it into something my sister believes is beautiful. It may not be worth millions, but it’s a step. Even a giant step for me in the right direction. I’m done selling myself short. DONE!
I keep picturing this scene in the tv show WEEDS that always stood out for me. The main character (I forget her name) goes through a really dramatic day. She almost dies, and I really forget all the drama in the episode….I know I’m bad at relaying information. Just imagine it was really dramatic and traumatic. She gets home, finally safe, she drinks some wine, says doesn’t speak to anyone and goes outside, strips naked and jumps in the pool. I related to that right away. Been there more than once. Had enough, just need to breathe. This is me breathing.
I’ve had enough of people’s opinions of my life. I’ve had enough of investing in something that isn’t real. I’ve had enough of feeling like maybe if he just has a little more time, he will see I’m worthy to love.
When I was 18, I found my biological mother. I found her on my own, because I’m a very good detective. I was adopted and for two years, I was driven to find her. Even with all the time and energy I put into finding her, I wasn’t prepared for what to do when it would happen. Maybe I thought I would have the words when it happened, but I didn’t. I called her out of the blue and I introduced myself. Then I asked her if she’d ever given up a baby for adoption. Just like that, and so that didn’t really go over too well. She said ‘no’. I apologized and said I must have the wrong person and hung up. I knew she was lying, it knew I had the right woman. I wasn’t going to argue with her. I didn’t really know how to process it. I stayed quiet for several hours, then suddenly I grabbed a pair of scissors, went to the washroom and cut off all of my hair. My mom caught me halfway through, she gasped “what are you doing!!!” I had no words for her. I looked at her and just shut the door. I felt nothing. When it was over, I bawled for hours because of the loss of my hair.
Later that year, I ended up meeting my biological mother’s parents. I went to their penthouse condo in Brampton. I remembered standing next to the window with my grandfather. He was from New Zealand, he passed away since then. I got kind of scared standing so close, we were really high up and they had floor to ceiling windows. He said “you’re just like your mother, scared of heights.” I smiled and then turned off the fear that day. Just like that. I never allowed myself to get scared for being up to high, I don’t want to be like her. I guess I should explain. I’ve never met her. She has 4 boys, and a daughter. Her husband (or so the story goes) will not allow her to meet me. Her children don’t know I exist, I’m a complete secret among their church community. They are well respected Mormons. A bastard baby is not something to be proud of. She sent me a letter. It said that she prayed I would find peace. It included her family pictures and two pictures of her new baby daughter. “I always wanted a daughter” she said. Ouch right, ya I’d say.
Her parents asked for pictures of me, recent and some as a child. My biological grandmother (and I only say grandmother so you can understand who I’m talking about, not because they are my family) brought the pictures to my biological mother so that she could see me. And then one day, they sent them back. They had little handwritten sticky notes on them with sayings like “you look so much like your mother here” or whatever bullshit brought them closure. I asked my grandmother why she sent them back. At least she didn’t lie. “So no one finds them by accident.”
And just so everyone knows, I wasn’t expecting us to become best friends. I didn’t expect her to become my new mom, I have a mom I love very much. But I wanted to see what she looked like. I wanted to make sense of myself. I wanted to know what she liked to do, I wanted to hear what kind of jokes she told, I wanted to know her. Just wanted to know what part of me connected with her. I didn’t want their money (they have money and I grew up poor) and I think did allude to that being my motive. How would I know that? And it made me feel bad for wanting to connect with someone when the rest of the general population is able to with ease. Somehow I feel like I’m in a similar situation.
I remember when my boyfriend before him died. I mean, how could I forget that really. I stayed up all night drinking at my friends house. I stayed up alone after everyone fell asleep just staring at the Toronto skyline, drinking and crying. In the morning another friend came with coffee and doughnuts. I had a hard time getting all my words out. I would collapse into tears and stutter “I don’t, (gasping for air) I don’t want (same thing) I don’t want him to be dead, please. I don’t want him to be dead. I’m not ready to be done with him.” She cried with me. My friends hated him, in truth, he was a douche bag. For some reason, it’s evil to say that because he’s gone but it’s the truth. He and I had a terrible relationship. He was cheating on me all the time, and lying and whatever else he did. He was no good for me. We had terrible arguments and then he wouldn’t let me out of his life. I tried, I really did. I cared about him of course but he and I were not anything close to being in love. He had some really great qualities that I miss but none of them were about being a good boyfriend. Initially I was mostly angry with him for being gone, for felling left behind and not understanding how it could all happen so quick. I woke up with him that morning, we had sex (not memorable except for that it was the last time) and we parted ways on the subway around noon. A few hours later, he was gone. Just gone. No real explanation. I mean, he was shot he died, yes I get that. But where is he? How do you make sense of that? I can’t yell at him for the things I found out afterwards, not that it matters anyway and I don’t want to anymore. It felt like getting dressed in the morning and wearing a pink dress but by the end of the day you’re naked? Where is my dress? How can that even happen and how do I make sure it doesn’t happen again? I can think of him now without getting angry, and sometimes I remember him fondly without getting sad or wanting that time back. I know I’ll get there again.
It’s a sad story, but I’m not crying. I’m painting and determined to grow in new directions. I have all the faith that there is another man out there that will capture my heart. And if there isn’t, if I never feel that way again, something else that life has to offered with be the reason my heart beats faster. My life will still be fulfilling with or without romantic love. And at least with the absence of it in my life, I don’t have to wonder when it’s leaving.
Sad songs are the best songs. And I don’t have to wonder how it’s gonna end.
I have found in my life, that any time I unload my heart to someone, it is always used an ammunition later on. Not that I don’t, but I get more easily lost in listening as a distraction not to. People are so willing to talk, not engaged in conversation, just verbally trapping you in eye contact because they feel the need to talk about xyz. I got used to this, thinking that this was conversation, disengaging my brain and adding sound between their pauses to confirm that I was present, only most of the time I wasn’t. And for various reasons such as they were terrible listeners, unwanted advice pushers, or competing with my sad stories I just stopped wanting to talk, at all. Not that I don’t have things to say, but now (because of a series of events) I have no one to say it to. As sad and lonely as it has been, being able to reflect and listen to my own voice without interruption has been the biggest gift the universe could force upon me.
Here are the random thoughts and things I would tell you over a glass of red wine in no particular order (except the for the fact that I”m drinking pomegranate blueberry juice):
I was thinking about the week before my beau and I ended. We (or maybe just me) were/was really happy. I told him I was so grateful that he was in my life and he said he felt the same. And then he said something about how love has a way of either ruining things or going away. (I don’t know why he always added the l-word into things when he was so adamant about not being in it.) And I told him ‘there is no consequence to happiness”. Within an hour we were arguing/not speaking and he stormed out of my apartment, crushing my heart. I thought ‘okay so there is a consequence to happiness’ But having had a few weeks to reflect on that, I would say that I was right the first time. Happiness and sadness are just a part of the balance of life, they are not consequences, they are emotions-appreciate them, explore them.
Ultimately, friends do not need to agree or like every decision that each other makes. What is more important is to respect them.
I started going to yoga and during my class I dedicated my practice to sending love to everyone who may need it but specifically to my family. My sister is currently pregnant. I have this sort of pregnancy phobia. I don’t really know where it comes from. Part of my wonders if it’s in any way connected to being adopted. Watching movies with labor scenes gives me anxiety, sweaty palms, heart palpitations. It’s not likely that I will have a child in my lifetime. I like kids but, pregnancy really disturbs me-deeply. [When I saw my pregnant sister, she was like 6 months pregnant, and she reached out to hug me. My heart was in my throat because I was scared to touch her and I stepped on a cat (Freudian accident) which then hissed and jumped up both of our legs scratching the shit out of both of us. It hurt like hell but I was grateful for it to be delayed slightly-even though I love her of course and my nephew] Back to yoga class, I visualized that my exhales would reach the new baby and were giving life to her little lungs, I imagined it’s little hand opening up moving tiny fingers. Imagining this brought me tremendous peace in my heart.
During the same class I was able to do my most amazing pose with ease, this truly blew me away. It has been over a year since I practiced yoga. I don’t know what the pose is called. Imagine you are sitting on your butt with your legs tucked under you and then your body falls back to the floor. The last time I tried this pose was when my boyfriend was murdered. I was really struggling to stay focused. I remember when the instructor would guide us through breathing I would resent the fact that I could breathe and feel guilty because he couldn’t and angry that I would even be thinking of him because he cheated. This would be the section of class that I would nearly black out. I pushed myself into trying this pose and really wanting to be able to do it. I was slowly easing myself into it. All these thoughts were assaulting my mind, I couldn’t fathom ever being able to trust a person again. The worst part of that boyfriend dying and cheating wasn’t just the loss of him, it was the loss of his family who I loved dearly, especially his mom. This gentle hand held my sweaty head surprising me, it was the instructor. He smiled and told me ‘fall back’ and guided me into the pose that I never though I’d be able to get into. The deepest sense of peace wrapped around my body and I heard a message from the universe that said ” there will always be someone to trust.” It wasn’t long after that I started dating someone new.
Friday when that pose came up I thought I probably wouldn’t be able to get it since it has been so long and that it was okay, I’ll be able to do it again eventually. But, I fell right back into it on my own and that’s when I realized. I trust myself, wow. Finally. Thank. God.
I pray every night. I thank god (whomever this may be) and I ask for help. It brings me peace and clarity. And I don’t care if in the end I’m only talking to myself or if I’m doing it wrong or whatever all the possibilities are. It helps me. I believe in god, in all the possibilities available.
My ex boyfriend invited me to dinner with his wife and children. We never slept together, this was back in the day when I was a devout Mormon and he was serving a mission in Mexico (which is where he met his wife). We sent each other letters every week. We barely dated. I was also, at the same time questioning this religion and wondering where I really fit in it. I also met my biological father at this time who subtly worked at getting me away from it. There were many reasons for me to get away from it, one being that when I adapted to becoming a vegetarian (I”m now a vegan) the bishop told me that I was going against the “word of wisdom” which tells Mormons not to drink, smoke, have pre-marital sex, do drugs, drink hot drinks and eat meat sparingly. It was a big deal for me to do this to some people who felt very compelled to talk me out of it. But it was no problem for those who believe they should not have caffeine to eat chocolate but not drink pepsi/coke. Do not drink coffee and only de-caff tea but you may drink hot chocolate. (It says no hot drinks) I also hated that the religion did not accept homosexuality, and suddenly invented a rule that we could only have one ear piercing after I had 3, and my nose pierced. It felt like to many hypocritical rules. Then during the above mentioned boyfriend’s mission he sent me a letter to pray to god if we should get married. I thought maybe we should get to know each other instead of simply relying on prayer. I left the church, but I think it’s nice that we may be able to have dinner together so I’m considering. I told him that I would not be coming back to church and hoped that this was not him trying to make that happen, and also that I’m a strict vegan. He replied by saying “we totally respect that.” I think I might go.
I think two men kissing each other is so beautiful. It doesn’t turn me on the way men exploit women who do it, but I think it’s art and sometimes it brings a tear to my eye. I”m not really sure why.
This morning I had a voice mail without my phone ringing. It was my friend from my last job, we made plans to see a movie tonight. I”m really sick and have been off and on for two weeks. Let’s just say that every single thing I’ve eaten in my life has been expelled from my body in one way or another. It’s awful and baffling. No one at work is sick and I don’t come into contact with anyone else. Yesterday I ran out of my yoga class within 15 minutes to vomit profusely. I was so thankful that the receptionist forced coconut water on me. Right after I felt better and I was telling her I was okay to go back in. She said “no I think you need to rest, try again tomorrow. I”ll get your mat for you and wash your towel, no big deal.” That kind of kindness really struck me. I really appreciated it. I went home and have been sick ever since, she was right. And I thought a lot about how often in my life I tell myself “I’m fine, I”m fine” but I’m not, and I wasn’t. Why don’t I listen to my body and my own voice. I had felt sick all morning but pushed myself to go anyway. I told my friend I was too sick to go, she found a vegan festival for us to go to with a spiritual twist. She gave me tips to feel better, things I hadn’t thought of. I was thankful. I realized I’d been forcing food into my body when it clearly doesn’t want it, maybe making things worse. “Just listen to your body today and treat it with love.” Simple words that was all I needed. I know I should see a doctor but I have a long standing history with reasons why I don’t trust them. I may call my naturopath instead but those appointments cost money which I’m not trilled about paying. I felt better just feeling like someone trusted that I had enough sense to fix my own body. She offered that next weekend she will take me to temple. “I’ve never been but I’ve always wanted to go. I know you’re searching for something and I think that this is something that will benefit you.” Ok. Take me to church.
A couple weeks ago I had a haircut. Just a little trim. This cute little 21 year old and compared our love life demise stories to each other. She was so insightful. She said “you just have to get back to that place where you know what you will and won’t put up with.” Simple as that. But then there’s the task, what will I and what won’t I. I found the first couple weeks of my life after our fall-out I was very indecisive, about everything. What to eat, what to wear, how to spend my time. I would walk through a store after work hoping to get out of my head. I’d look at clothes or jewelry and try on pretty things but ultimately I just felt bored by it. I didn’t want anything, nothing would grab me. Everything in front of me was what I didn’t want. This ended up just being a benefit to my bank account, thankfully. Instead I’ve since thrown myself more and more into work and yoga. I don’t have a detailed list of what I want, I could go on and on about what I don’t. But I know myself well enough to know that when I see what I want, I always know right away. And at the very least what I want is the opportunity to love and be loved in return.
Today is my 31st birthday! (Weeeeeeee) Because today I plan on being uber selfish. I have written this in advance, to help me comply with my deadlines. Here are 31 little pieces of advice I’ve learned over my many moons that I would like to bestow on you as my act of kindness:
This is some advise I wrote down from my conversation with my best friend tonight:
I adored my birthday this year. Many wonderful wishes sent my way, very thoughtful gifts and time well spent. Here is also a picture of my ultimate favorite breakfast made by my favorite chef. A very appreciated act of kindness.
I started off my morning like a goddess. Slept in a little, got up and took my time to get ready and met up with my best friend for breakfast. We ordered the regular, off-the-menu-love-of-my-life-potato-medley. It’s a total dive, but the waitresses are so sweet and chatty that it makes me happy to go there. Who doesn’t want to go into a place where people are excited you came?!
When we walked out the parking attendant was printed off tickets to chars in the parking lot. “Oh crap, I hope he isn’t giving you a ticket.” I not only say this out of concern for her, but for the scene about to go down. P.S. I’m still holding my carry out container holding my breakfast from the restaurant.
“I hope your not giving me a ticket!”
“Which one is your car?” She then points to her car at the end and he confirms he has indeed given her a ticket.
“What!” She says it like she’s out of breath from running. “I just went inside to get change! It was only a second! Seriously?!!”
Then he interrupts her and says in this completely zen yoga voice, “okay, alright, take a breath. Just breathe. It’s all fine. Show me your change.”
Her posture changed completely. She started to dig in her purse to find her change and pulls out a quarter, a dime and a nickle. Just change, not change that makes sense to substantiate her claim.
“Ok see, no big deal.” Walks over with us and cancels the ticket on the spot.
The whole time I say nothing, just taking notes. Get in the car and close the door, she says. “I told you, you can’t hustle a hustler!”
I told her we should get him a coffee, but we didn’t find him again after that. I’ve thought about this all day. At first I thought, how dumb are you! I’ve re-told the story a million times just to make someone laugh, every time I think of it I laugh. I was really impressed with his ability to change her attitude right away, aside from cancelling the ticket. Even if it was a dumb move, it was so nice and it impacted the rest of our morning together, which continued to be just as fun as it was. In the end it was a ripple effect, trickling through the rest of my day, the story of the cancelled ticket.
I didn’t do too much during the day, I was too busy to notice. The day pretty much just swallowed me. As a rule, I feel that being more aware has helped me but I’m not really sure in which ways. On my subway ride home my eyes were assaulted by this beautiful spring coat. It was tweed-like with lime green accents. In. LOVE. I couldn’t not say anything and so I decided to say “I just love your coat.” Only to have the girl completely ignore me. Oh my god this has never happened to me before. Are people looking at me? Don’t turn around. Is she wearing earphones? Does she think I’m crazy?
When I transferred lines, a lady with a baby stroller and another girl were standing in the doorway of the train. One girl was really eager to make the baby laugh, doing silly things, talking in a baby voice, tickling her. I was paying attention, for whatever reason. Until I saw a brown bottle in the cup holder. Is that a beer? The label was turned to face away revealing nutritional facts. Are nutritional facts listed on a beer? Maybe that’s why the label is facing away. And to be very honest, in general I don’t pay attention to people. But I became hell bent on judging those two girls. Their clothing, where they would probably be going, the fact that my tax paying dollars most likely support them most likely, their inability to dress themselves (leggings too tight they became see-through.) And like a hawk I paid attention until I found out that ‘racinette‘ (which in French means root beer), the word that was printed on the bottle, was not worth getting riled up about for the few minutes I did. Crooked teeth have not barring on parental skills, I should already know that, I haven’t heard a baby laugh like that on the subway ever and it was actually nice to hear. To those two girls, I truly apologize.
The last stop before home was the grocery store trying to remember everything I need and wondering why I didn’t make a list. A girl looking so shy said to me “I just want to tell you that I love your dress………..and your sandals.” And then as if I’d won a contest I said “you do?!” and had a conversation for a few minutes with her. Talking to strangers is getting easier, even though I’m always the first to inch away. That compliment had a big impact on how I felt about myself for the rest of the evening. And although I’m not the one executing the most kindness at the moment, it feels good to be aware of it and appreciate it.
I was talking with my girlfriend tonight on the phone, “are you still doing your good deeds?” How do I put this gently………”well, I don’t know can we count blow jobs?” She mocks me, “I don’t think that helps humanity.” Which is then when I decide to defend myself because I think it does in some ways. How many times have you assumed someone didn’t get laid because they were acting like an asshole? Or assumed someone did get laid because they were suddenly nice?
Apparently, the effects of an orgasm are a multitude of good things. Lowered blood pressure, stress relief, increases pain tolerance, protects your heart, helps with weight loss, increases quality of sleep, builds immune system etc.etc. How could all of those things not impact the greater good? I can only assume that when my beau drives home, he becomes less likely to have road rage for which he is prone. That must impact someone else, inadvertently. So, your welcome world.
“Your blog is about to take an evil turn isn’t it.” Until I can learn how to be a naturally nice person, yes, it is. Happy Sunday.