One day at a time

It’s a funny thing to try and get used to a new normal when things feel like the old normal. I know that things are going to change, at some point, and that point could really come at any time…but right now we feel so normal together. Things feel like they used to when they were good, and things were fine. Only this time there will be a day with boxes, and packing, and eventually a U-Haul. Following that day there will be space, and emptiness and a whole lot of house that hasn’t been empty- ever. There will be tears and probably some hyperventilating and some moderate drinking of cheap wine. And when that is all over, there will be silence….a whole lot of silence. The kind that only comes from the whole house being asleep and all of the tv’s and computers turned off... a kind of silence I don’t remember experiencing in over 10 years. The loudest silence of them all.

So, these days where we can talk and laugh and work together are all the more important. The unexpected visits to bring me coffee and the co-parenting that is almost effortless are even more appreciated.  The fact that we can still care about each other, and do it in front of other people who know our situation makes me feel like we’re doing it right. We can set a good example, a loving example for people so that they don’t get this idea that every single breakup is nasty and tinted with anger or hate. There is clearly another option. When you love someone, there is always another option. Regardless of how you love that person, the love will come through and find a way to tame the situation, because it’s the person that is important to you, not being right, or being loudest/best/most important etc.   

Our situation really only exist because we love each other. Just in different ways. One of us is in love and one of us isn’t. That doesn’t diminish the kind of love the other has in any way though. The way I love him is just as real and important as the way he loves me, and we are where we are today because of that. I asked him to let me go so he could be loved the way he deserves, and he agreed to let me go- ironically, because he loves me the way I should be loved. It’s kind of a bitch, I know.

I’m still not 100% convinced that it’s not all in my head. I feel like I’m missing this connection, this intimacy, this attraction that I feel I should have, even after 10 years. I don’t know where it went, and I honestly don’t really know what it feels like, just that they aren’t there. It’s damn near impossible to describe when people ask me what the hell I’m talking about. Something is just missing.

I feel like the only way that I am going to know what that something is, is to be at home in my skin, in my home and in my relationships. I don’t want to feel like I need to rely on someone to do something for me, I want to be able to do what I need done on my own. I used to be completely self-sufficient and I was proud of that. I miss that version of myself. Granted, I know there are things I need to ask for help with, but I want to get back to that person that had her own tool set, and hung up her own damn pictures and worked on her own car.

The only way I will know what is gone, is to see not what I need so much, but rather what I want. Being with someone out of a need versus being with someone out of wanting changes the dynamic greatly. When I don’t need anything from anyone, I lose that comfort that comes from being taken care of. When I am with someone because I want to be there, well, then that opens up an entirely different part of my heart.  I don’t want to be with someone out of fear, or dependence, or because I’m “used” to them. I want to be with someone that makes my heart lighter, and my laughter genuine, and someone that makes my pulse race a little bit when we’re alone. To me, that is what love looks like. When I can be a competent and independent person on my own, I feel like I will have a better idea of what it is that’s missing, because that something will be what makes me smile when I am already perfectly content in my skin, my life, my home. I imagine that I will be drawn to it, that I will gravitate towards it when soul finds that thing that it needs. I have faith that somehow I will know it when I am “home” and all of my stars have aligned the way they should. It’ll be interesting to see what that looks like…I look forward to it.

 

 

 

 

This little light of mine....

I read something today that basically said to undo yourself- undo everything that happened to you that dimmed your shine. That got me thinking. How do we really know what it was that dimmed our shine? It’s not like there is one of those little turkey timers that pops out of our belly when that one monumental moment occurs. We don’t get an email from the universe saying “well, now, Sarah it seems that your starting to dim a little bit. You should knock that shit off”.  Sure would be nice if we did though. But the reality is that by the time we realize that our lights have dimmed or gone out, we have baggage. We have baggage because we’ve lived a life up to this point. So, again, without that fancy turkey timer to tell us when we started acquiring darker baggage, how do we know what baggage is something to cherish and which is slowly turning to stone and weighing us down?


Some days I feel like I know the moment I started to dim. I was pregnant with my second, a full time student and mom to a 2 year old. I remember waking up one day and I just laid in bed. I wondered what the hell I was doing, why I was still there, and then I wondered if I could get through just one more day. If I could get through one more day then I could go to bed, wake up tomorrow and do it again for just one more day. That was over four years ago. So I can clearly do things one day at a time, but I long for a feeling that I don’t have to take life one day at a time. I long to be in love with my life, instead of wondering if I will make it that whole week without an attack or meltdown of some kind. 


I don’t know if that morning that I gave myself a horrible pep talk was actually the day I started to dim or not. What I do know is that the girl I remember being years ago is not the girl I am now. The girl I used to be proud of was independent, and self-sufficient, and happy. She laughed a lot and watched romantic comedies. She had the hots for Tim McGraw and a bird named Thor that watched TV with her. She had a place of her own and a respect for herself that she held really dear and important. She was happy on her own, but wanted to love someone someday.


Now, today, the woman I am these days is tired, stressed, and sad. I don’t laugh very much and I haven’t watched a cheesy romantic comedy in years. I gave Thor away because he didn’t like the people in the house (I cried for 3 days). I am responsible for other people now and that means lunches, snacks, laundry, toys, messes and dishes that never end. It means falling asleep with the kids because I’m 4 years beyond being exhausted, or trying to stay up until 10 so that I can have some “grown up time” and a beer. And as for respecting myself like I used to….well that shit went out the window a long time ago. I know now that it didn’t have to, but at the time it felt like the only way to survive.


While I like the notion of ridding ourselves of those things that make us dim, I think we have a lot to learn from them as well. All of these things I’ve mentioned- the girl that I used to be and the girl that I am today- all these things have taught me something, even if they have dimmed my light some. I wouldn’t know that I can handle half the things that I’ve been through in the last decade, I never would have thought that I could look at a child and want to cry because I love something so much. I wouldn’t know what it really feels like to love myself enough to ask for better. I wouldn’t know that it’s ok to absolutely lose my shit and fall apart. I wouldn’t know what really and completely loving another person feels like.


These are things I know now, today. These things have molded me into the person writing this down. The light I had when I was 24 has dimmed, and I think that maybe it was supposed to. Without that light burning out, there was no room to ignite a new flame for the person I was going to become. It hasn’t been easy, and I’m not saying that I don’t miss the 24 year old me, but I am grateful for wisdom I have gained by being these two different versions of myself. I remember the feeling of being 24 and that reminds me of how good I can feel on my own, in my own skin and how easy it can be to breathe when life is settled down. I also appreciate the struggles I’ve been (and made it) through these last 10 years because they have taught me what’s really important, and how to recognize and fight for those things. 


When the light that is guiding my life at this moment dims and burns out, a new one will ignite, yet again, and I will be on another new journey. Every stage of life is a new journey and I am looking forward to that new light. I will leave behind the baggage that serves no purpose. I will still get up and take things one day at a time until I don’t need to anymore. Right now, I need to because there are more hearts on the line than just mine alone. Those hearts matter. The lights and journeys that come with those hearts matter. As my current favorite new musician, Ed Sheeran says “I swear it will get easier. Remember that with every piece of ya”.

Humaning is hard...

The emotional heart is a funny thing. It basically drives our every move, even when it’s not happy with where we are going. When our hearts are big enough to let other people in, we start directing our life for those people. Sometimes it’s because we want to see them happy. Other times it’s because we have hurt them in some way and that pesky heart of ours is saying that we should fix it. My heart right now is saying that I have fought to be happy, and to be honest with myself and what I want. It’s also telling me that I was mean and horrible to someone else because of those desires.

So, when do we know when to start acknowledging the desire of our own hearts over the desire of someone else’s? When do we, as emotionally stupid and dependent creatures, know when to live through the guilt instead of give into it? Because I can tell you from the feeling in my heart at this very moment, that part of me wants to go back and ”fix” everything even while knowing that I would be unhappy and untrue to myself. Part of me doesn’t like being the reason someone else is hurting, and honestly, not being liked by someone is always a hit to the ego.  Thanks for nothing, ego…

I also know at this moment that I wouldn’t last another year if I fixed it for someone else. I wouldn’t be able love myself the way I need to be loved, and I wouldn’t be showing my little people at home what real strength and love really looks like. If nothing else comes out of all of this, I need them to know that I tried- I tried my best, I tried as long as I could and then when it got hard I tried to be the best example I could for them. When they grow up to be decent, loving human beings then I will be able to say that everything I did was worth it. At least they will know that they are loved.

This is what I have to keep in mind when the other option is to apologize, give in, and give up something that I feel very strongly belongs to me. I spent a long time doing those things, and years later I am still doing it, having some of the same conversations I’ve had time and time again. This time though, I’m not weak, I’m not dependent and I’m not scared. I just feel guilty….and that is almost worse. Guilt is like the final pound of pressure that is just waiting to pierce your heart and make you wish you could take it all back. Guilt is my Achilles Heel.  It makes it hard to breathe, to laugh, to smile and to do whatever I need to do to love myself, and that’s the real bitch of it all.

So, one day at a time I will breathe in and out, and I will put one foot in front of the other. I will love my little people and myself, and in the only way I know how, I will love that person that is trying to pierce my heart because I know why they’re doing it. I will respect that at this time, this is part of their journey just like guilt is part of mine. I will respect that I don’t have the right to change their pain or their heart any more than they have the right to tell me I shouldn’t feel that guilt. We are each the reason the other one is hurting, and for right now this is our reality.

When the hurting stops and the guilt (kisses my ass and) goes away we will be okay. We will be able to laugh again, to love again, and we will be better versions of ourselves. That’s my plan anyway. You can’t live a life without learning from it but that doesn’t mean that all of our lessons are comfortable. The most important lessons are often the hardest. How do you think they make an impression?

Breathing Room.

There comes a time I think for everyone when the things that make you happy change. It could be something you've done so long that you don't remember why you started in the first place, or it could be something you remember fighting for until you couldn't fight anymore. You just wake up one day and realize things are different. This doesn't mean that all the times that you were happy are less real, or that the energy you invested in it was never genuine. It just means that you changed. Sometimes once you've changed, you can't turn around and revert seamlessly. Sometimes you need to step back and assess what it was that made you happy, and what is it now that is keeping that happiness at bay in some way.
These times can bring stress, and anger and even grief. But they can also bring clarity. They can bring the insight that it is okay to change and it is okay to fall out of love with something- that doesn't mean that the time you did spend in love was all a lie. To really love something or someone is a treasure. It enriches our lives and gives us something to hold dear. The sadness comes when love is no longer the association we have with that thing or that person. The guilt comes from feeling responsible for the heart of another person when that is the situation. The only problem is that we can't live our lives out of guilt for another person. Not that we don't love them in some way, but maybe we just don't love them they way they need us to. Maybe we're learning to love ourselves and we finally realize that, at some point, our thoughts about ourselves should make us smile. Our desire to finally love ourselves should be a priority.
And this is okay. Its okay to be going through turmoil and still be able to smile. Its okay to put ourselves first sometimes. And its okay to find beauty when things seem dark. Its like friends laughing at a funeral- love and loss can exist in the same space.