That's right. Tomorrow I turn thirty, and I am PUMPED, y'all! I am ready to leave behind this decade and enter my next. At the same time, I know a ton of good stuff happened over the last ten years, so I thought I would recap a bit of it here:
Age 20: Moved to Florence, Italy for a semester. Visited France, Spain, Switzerland, England, and Germany. Went para sailing in the Swiss Alps.
Age 21: Figured out that I wanted to be in a helping profession. Saw for the first time systemic poverty, working in a homeless shelter in Charlotte, and decided to go to divinity school to...do something. Did my college honors thesis on motherhood and theology, definitely a first step towards my work today.
Age 22: Interned at the most amazing, feminist-y, non-hierarchical organization EVER. Set up for disappointment at all future employment.
Age 23: Moved into a group house with fellow div school classmates. Proceeded to have the most ridiculous party of all time. The cops came and asked what frat we were. We had to tell them, "The divinity school."
Age 24: Graduated from div school and got the HELL OUT OF THERE AS FAST AS POSSIBLE.
Age 25: Moved to DC. Got the HELL OUT OF CT. All rejoiced. Quit my job and found a new one that I love!
Age 26: Enjoyed the best of DC: getting invited to a meeting at the White House. Yes, it was amazing, and no, it hasn't happened since. Wah wah.
Age 27: Went to Malawi, first trip to the continent. Forever changed. Hired my first employee. Learned how to be a boss. Like a boss.
Age 28: Met my husband to be. Moved to NC. Got our dog Lucy. Got engaged! Quit the blog. Planned the wedding.
Age 29: Married my favorite person. Went on glorious honeymoon. Picked up blogging again. Enjoyed a more settled life in NC.
Can't wait to see what the next 10 years bring!
Showing posts with label Future. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Future. Show all posts
Buena Vis(t)a
"Open it, open it!" Carolina Man said as he drove us to the gym, a healthy habit we were already cultivating on our second day of living together.
The single piece of mail we'd gotten that day had been an envelope from Capitol One. I'd raved to CM about my rewards AmEx and how I'd already spent enough to earn serious bucks off a trip--a honeymoon, maybe? Since he was just using his debit card, he figured he'd join the credit card rewards fun and earn some buck-age along the way.
We'd been in lots of conversations about our finances--how much we each had in savings, how much we wanted to spend together, and...how much we could set aside each month for a wedding. Thankfully we're not starting from scratch, but we aren't into A) doing it on the cheap B) counting on our families to help (though they might) or C) doing it in the far, far distant future. That means the more we can save, the better.
I thought it was kind of weird that he wanted me to open up his credit card envelope, but I figured he was just excited about having a new card and his hands were occupied with the driving.
But then, when I opened up the letter inside, I saw the card. It had a picture on it. A picture of us from our mini-vacation to the beach. We were in our bathing suits, lips locked, with a gorgeous blue sky and ocean behind us. A buena vista Visa.
It was the sweetest, most unexpected gesture. To me, it said, "I love this woman and I want everyone to know. I want everyone to see."
This guy's for real. I mean, my picture is on his credit card.
The single piece of mail we'd gotten that day had been an envelope from Capitol One. I'd raved to CM about my rewards AmEx and how I'd already spent enough to earn serious bucks off a trip--a honeymoon, maybe? Since he was just using his debit card, he figured he'd join the credit card rewards fun and earn some buck-age along the way.
We'd been in lots of conversations about our finances--how much we each had in savings, how much we wanted to spend together, and...how much we could set aside each month for a wedding. Thankfully we're not starting from scratch, but we aren't into A) doing it on the cheap B) counting on our families to help (though they might) or C) doing it in the far, far distant future. That means the more we can save, the better.
I thought it was kind of weird that he wanted me to open up his credit card envelope, but I figured he was just excited about having a new card and his hands were occupied with the driving.
But then, when I opened up the letter inside, I saw the card. It had a picture on it. A picture of us from our mini-vacation to the beach. We were in our bathing suits, lips locked, with a gorgeous blue sky and ocean behind us. A buena vista Visa.
It was the sweetest, most unexpected gesture. To me, it said, "I love this woman and I want everyone to know. I want everyone to see."
This guy's for real. I mean, my picture is on his credit card.
Dancing to...NC!
This probably won't come as much of a shock to you who have been reading along the last few months, but Carolina Man and I have decided it's time to end this long-distance nonsense and live in the same place. So, I'm packing up my things and moving to Cary in... 16 DAYS!
I've wanted to move to NC for over a year now, and since I can keep my current job and I don't even have to break a lease, there's never been a better time to try it out. I'm excited and stressed and nervous and happy and sad about it all at once.
So, I'll be busy the next few weeks trying to get my life in order. I couldn't be happier about the decision. As much as I'll miss my friends in DC, I know I'm ready to start my new life with Carolina Man.
I've wanted to move to NC for over a year now, and since I can keep my current job and I don't even have to break a lease, there's never been a better time to try it out. I'm excited and stressed and nervous and happy and sad about it all at once.
So, I'll be busy the next few weeks trying to get my life in order. I couldn't be happier about the decision. As much as I'll miss my friends in DC, I know I'm ready to start my new life with Carolina Man.
Too Good to Be True?
At 4:45 today I was annoyed to get a call from my project's funder, asking if we could push our last minute meeting (which they had called) back by another half hour. Just last week I'd managed to squeeze in their request, and now they were asking me to change it at the very last moment. I was irritated, to say the least.
That is, until they said they wanted to offer us full funding for another year. And that if we wanted more funding just to ask for it. They have it for us, and they want us to "think big."
What. The. Fuck.
This is unheard of. Funders don't just call you up and say, "Hey, we'd like to give you some money. You don't have to fill out any forms. You aren't competing with anyone else for it. We'd just like to offer you job security for another twelve months."
Seriously. What. The. Fuck.
Granted, I've worked my ass off for the last 18 months, and we've done really excellent work. I'm not surprised that we got additional funding at all. What I am surprised about is we didn't even have to ask.
This is blowing my mind. How is it that all of these good things are happening to me, and I'm not even having to ask for them? They are just happening. Without my help. Without my pleading. Without my die-hard determination to get what I want.
I keep waiting for the shoe to drop. Surely things can't be this good. I'd grown so accustomed to things being shitty that this sudden turnaround seems way too good to be true. After I said this to my boss several times today, she said, "You've got to stop saying that." And I realized, it was just the fear talking.
Maybe things really can be this good, at least for awhile.
From a Distance
"I know we've only known each other four weeks and three days, but to me it seems like nine weeks and five days. The first day seemed like a week and the second day seemed like five days. And the third day seemed like a week again and the fourth day seemed like eight days. And the fifth day you went to see your mother and that seemed just like a day, and then you came back and later on the sixth day, in the evening, when we saw each other, that started seeming like two days, so in the evening it seemed like two days spilling over into the next day and that started seeming like four days, so at the end of the sixth day on into the seventh day, it seemed like a total of five days. And the sixth day seemed like a week and a half. I have it written down, but I can show it to you tomorrow if you want to see it. "
Hopefully you recognize the absurdity above as a quote from the 1979 Steve Martin classic The Jerk. It's become a frequent reference for Carolina Man and me. First, in a silly way, it encapsulates the feeling of having known each other longer much longer than we have in actuality. Second, it pokes fun at the anguish we feel in being apart, no matter how relatively short the time. It's tough for me even to consider this a real long-distance relationship when he's just a four-hour drive away, and we've already managed to see each other twice since our first weekend together in Ohio (and I'll be going back to North Carolina on Thursday night!) In the past I've done the long-distance thing over continents and time zones, but this feels different. I can't imagine getting used to being apart, nor do I want to get to that place.
Even with Skype and texting and email and cell phones, nothing comes close to being with someone in person. So much is lost when there's physical space separating you. Carolina Man brings up this distant feeling every now and then, and there's sadness that comes with it for both of us. That's especially true on a day like today, when he's having a lazy Sunday and I'm stuck in a tiny town in Ohio for work with nothing on my agenda today except perhaps a trip to the drugstore, only to alleviate some of the boredom. I think, "Why can't we just be together?" It feels like torture.
But it's almost a sweet torture, both the agonizing longing for him and the ecstatic feeling of relief when I do see him again. I can hardly remember my life before him now, what it was like for something or someone else to be filling up all the spaces he holds in my mind and heart. I love that I'm still amazed at what's happening, that we haven't yet settled into daily life with one another. I love that he's the first thought I have when I wake up and the last thought I have as I fall asleep. And I will continue to count the days until I see my love again.
Even with Skype and texting and email and cell phones, nothing comes close to being with someone in person. So much is lost when there's physical space separating you. Carolina Man brings up this distant feeling every now and then, and there's sadness that comes with it for both of us. That's especially true on a day like today, when he's having a lazy Sunday and I'm stuck in a tiny town in Ohio for work with nothing on my agenda today except perhaps a trip to the drugstore, only to alleviate some of the boredom. I think, "Why can't we just be together?" It feels like torture.
But it's almost a sweet torture, both the agonizing longing for him and the ecstatic feeling of relief when I do see him again. I can hardly remember my life before him now, what it was like for something or someone else to be filling up all the spaces he holds in my mind and heart. I love that I'm still amazed at what's happening, that we haven't yet settled into daily life with one another. I love that he's the first thought I have when I wake up and the last thought I have as I fall asleep. And I will continue to count the days until I see my love again.
Reflecting Back, Visioning the Future
I wrote the following on March 25, 2010, just a few days after SCL and I broke up. I sealed the seven pages of journaling into an envelope and dated it March 25, 2011. I read it a few months ago and then didn't think about it again. But when I was with Carolina Man this week, something he said reminded me of this passage. I shared it with him last night and I want to share part of it with you now.
When I'm honest with myself, I realize that the reason I could not even picture SCL proposing to me was not because I was so excited about all of it. It wasn't jitters or other fun feelings of anticipation. It was that deep down I didn't believe he would actually do it. I held it up as this blessed moment when he finally, finally, FINALLY would show me love in a truly selfless way. Wow. When I write that out, I realize how truly fucked up that was.
I can't control what others think, how they love or don't love, if and when they decide to enter or exit my life. But I can work to turn the love I so easily give outwardly toward myself. I can show myself love, care for myself, be satisfied with myself. I will have to learn to do this, but I am able to learn it and I desire to learn it. I want to feel and know that I am a complete person, truly loved and valued, and deserving of nothing less than being truly loved by others.
On the subway I was daydreaming about how somewhere in the world, there's a man with a broken heart, a man who was ready to give his heart but not to the right woman, who is hurting just like me, believing he'd just lost his one opportunity for love. And I dream that he's figuring all this out, learning to move forward, growing into himself, preparing for a time when he'll be ready to love again. We'll meet, we'll flirt, we'll feel all those feeling of spark and passion and new love. We'll realize that we can love again and we'll learn to allow ourselves to do just that. We'll be open, honest, and communicate. We'll eventually find ourselves on the same page. We'll want, but not need, one another. And we'll begin to understand it better--the past, the heartache, the pain, the difficulty. It'll make sense in a new way.I didn't know anything about Carolina Man at the time. It wouldn't be until August 24, 2010 that I'd even hear about him. And it wasn't until December 4, 2010 that we met. And it wasn't until June 26, 2011 that we kissed the first time. But deep down, I felt that when the time was right, I'd meet the man I imagined in my mind. And I believe with all my heart that he's it.
Feels Like Home
As I crossed the North Carolina state line early yesterday morning, I instantly felt like I was home. There's something about this state that just makes my heart feel like singing. Ever since I started at Davidson College in 2001, I have felt a strong sense of belonging here. It holds so many special memories, not to mention special people, for me. I feel like I breathe more deeply here.
I felt a similar sense of peace when I was, strangely enough, in Malawi. I hadn't expected to go so far away from home only to experience a deeper sense of belonging and connection than I ever did in DC. One night our team was out eating dinner at a restaurant on the shores of Lake Malawi when I happened to look up into the night sky. I'd never seen anything so breathtaking--the stars so bright and dense. I've never looked at the sky the same way since I got back.
The moment I walked through the door when I got back to DC, I felt that sense of peace disintegrate. The influx of email and phone calls and conference calls overpowered my newly found quietness. "I've got to learn to replicate that sense of quiet," I thought. I began slowly to push out the noise--turning off my email indicator on my phone, putting the computer to sleep by 8 pm, not going to sleep with the TV on. But, I wanted more than just quiet. I wanted connection, community, family.
Being here in North Carolina with Carolina Man, in his beautiful house by the lake, I feel that sense of connection, that sense of peace I thought I'd have to travel to the other side of the world to feel again. I experience myself and the world around me differently here. It's something I think I'd like to get used to.
I felt a similar sense of peace when I was, strangely enough, in Malawi. I hadn't expected to go so far away from home only to experience a deeper sense of belonging and connection than I ever did in DC. One night our team was out eating dinner at a restaurant on the shores of Lake Malawi when I happened to look up into the night sky. I'd never seen anything so breathtaking--the stars so bright and dense. I've never looked at the sky the same way since I got back.
The moment I walked through the door when I got back to DC, I felt that sense of peace disintegrate. The influx of email and phone calls and conference calls overpowered my newly found quietness. "I've got to learn to replicate that sense of quiet," I thought. I began slowly to push out the noise--turning off my email indicator on my phone, putting the computer to sleep by 8 pm, not going to sleep with the TV on. But, I wanted more than just quiet. I wanted connection, community, family.
Being here in North Carolina with Carolina Man, in his beautiful house by the lake, I feel that sense of connection, that sense of peace I thought I'd have to travel to the other side of the world to feel again. I experience myself and the world around me differently here. It's something I think I'd like to get used to.
Can I Stop Wanting What I Want?
What I want more than anything is to stop wanting what I want. If only I could say with sincerity that I am satisfied with my life as it is, that the good things about it are enough for me, and that anything else--a relationship, children, money--would be a bonus.
Being in a partnership and having a family are central to the vision I have for my life, so how do I go about not wanting them? The way some people talk about love, the simple wanting of something in this arena, much less striving for it even, means that we probably won't find it.
"It'll come to you when you're not looking for it."
I can't force myself to quit looking for something I desire. It'd be like like trying to ignore the rumbling of an empty stomach or the sandpaper feeling of a parched throat. I might be able to distract myself momentarily, but the idea of satiation is never going to escape me.
I like the idea of being satisfied within myself, but I have no idea how to go about it.
When I first started taking voice lessons, I was in heaven. I loved the practice, I loved trying new exercises, and I was in love with the idea that it was just a matter of time before I perfected my art. Then at some point I crossed the threshold of blissful ignorance to the painful realization of understanding how much I didn't know and how much I couldn't do, and not having any cultivated any real skill yet, I fell into a place of frustration.
That's how I feel now. I know how much I have to learn about being at peace with myself, but I have no idea how to go about achieving it. But, if like with my voice, I can manage to push through this period of despair, I do believe I'll learn something important, something to take with me through this journey that will help.
Being in a partnership and having a family are central to the vision I have for my life, so how do I go about not wanting them? The way some people talk about love, the simple wanting of something in this arena, much less striving for it even, means that we probably won't find it.
"It'll come to you when you're not looking for it."
I can't force myself to quit looking for something I desire. It'd be like like trying to ignore the rumbling of an empty stomach or the sandpaper feeling of a parched throat. I might be able to distract myself momentarily, but the idea of satiation is never going to escape me.
I like the idea of being satisfied within myself, but I have no idea how to go about it.
When I first started taking voice lessons, I was in heaven. I loved the practice, I loved trying new exercises, and I was in love with the idea that it was just a matter of time before I perfected my art. Then at some point I crossed the threshold of blissful ignorance to the painful realization of understanding how much I didn't know and how much I couldn't do, and not having any cultivated any real skill yet, I fell into a place of frustration.
That's how I feel now. I know how much I have to learn about being at peace with myself, but I have no idea how to go about achieving it. But, if like with my voice, I can manage to push through this period of despair, I do believe I'll learn something important, something to take with me through this journey that will help.
A Pause
My posting has screeched to a near halt. It started unintentionally but has become less so. Observing some of the less than charitable behavior that goes on online (of which I have certainly been a part of at times) has gotten me thinking about the purpose of my own blog and if it's something I wish to continue.
Whether right or wrong, when you share your life publicly, you open yourself up to criticism. I have not been the exception. I can't say I agree with the idea that having a blog somehow means you have signed up for whatever kind of bullshit people want to hurl at you. (Is human decency a lost art?) But nonetheless, feeling unfairly criticized and judged is part of the blogging territory.
And, I've been feeling like my inner critic, the little bastard that he is, really doesn't need any more ammunition. He does just fine on his own finding things to cut me down. So, do I really need another venue for feeling like a jerk when I screw up in my life?
I started the blog with a pretty clear idea of what I wanted it to be--a blog about what it was like to date a PhD student when I wasn't in school. I had grand notions of providing a community for those in this strange situation. But when I found myself single, the blog became a refuge--one I really needed. I found support and community in the midst of real heartache and pain. And then, it became a dating blog, and that was a shift I was not prepared for. Apparently people have lots of opinions about dating and what people should or shouldn't do--and they like telling you what to do. And, before I realized it, dating had been elevated to a level of importance in my life that I never anticipated. I let it become more important than it should have been.
Which is why I haven't been blogging about dating anymore. I don't want it to take up that space in my life--because it could if I let it. Dates can make a good story. Dating is attached to so many other deeper issues--what I want and desire, how I feel about my future, things that I should really reserve for those closest to me. Unfortunately, I have a problem with spilling my guts to anyone, and it's something I'm working on.
You know, I thought operating under a pseudonym would protect me, but it didn't. It never did. In some ways I think by not having a picture or a real name it made it easier to forget that I was a real person.
This is all to say, I'm not certain what I want to do about the blog, but I know that going forward, I'm going to keep my personal life just that--personal.
Whether right or wrong, when you share your life publicly, you open yourself up to criticism. I have not been the exception. I can't say I agree with the idea that having a blog somehow means you have signed up for whatever kind of bullshit people want to hurl at you. (Is human decency a lost art?) But nonetheless, feeling unfairly criticized and judged is part of the blogging territory.
And, I've been feeling like my inner critic, the little bastard that he is, really doesn't need any more ammunition. He does just fine on his own finding things to cut me down. So, do I really need another venue for feeling like a jerk when I screw up in my life?
I started the blog with a pretty clear idea of what I wanted it to be--a blog about what it was like to date a PhD student when I wasn't in school. I had grand notions of providing a community for those in this strange situation. But when I found myself single, the blog became a refuge--one I really needed. I found support and community in the midst of real heartache and pain. And then, it became a dating blog, and that was a shift I was not prepared for. Apparently people have lots of opinions about dating and what people should or shouldn't do--and they like telling you what to do. And, before I realized it, dating had been elevated to a level of importance in my life that I never anticipated. I let it become more important than it should have been.
Which is why I haven't been blogging about dating anymore. I don't want it to take up that space in my life--because it could if I let it. Dates can make a good story. Dating is attached to so many other deeper issues--what I want and desire, how I feel about my future, things that I should really reserve for those closest to me. Unfortunately, I have a problem with spilling my guts to anyone, and it's something I'm working on.
You know, I thought operating under a pseudonym would protect me, but it didn't. It never did. In some ways I think by not having a picture or a real name it made it easier to forget that I was a real person.
This is all to say, I'm not certain what I want to do about the blog, but I know that going forward, I'm going to keep my personal life just that--personal.
Sweet Carolina
Back in October, I spent my entire six-hour drive back from my 5 year college reunion in Davidson, NC plotting how I'd get back there permanently. I don't think anyone could blame me for it. The combination of nostalgia, reconnecting, beautiful weather, not to mention my then general distaste for all things DC, was too enticing not to consider. I thought about it for a few weeks, discovered I could actually do it without losing my current job, had a conversation with my boss, my mom, and my therapist. I blogged about it. And then predictably after a few weeks it kind of faded into the background, no longer at the forefront of my mind.
Until last week. My uncle, who lives in Durham, emailed me to see if I was still interested in moving to North Carolina. He's building a new house and while his condo is on the market, he wants me to come stay there to keep an eye on the place. Rent free. Currently I am paying out the nose for a bedroom in a shared house where I have no privacy other than in my bedroom and am awakened daily by a pissy chihuahua. So, I'm being offered a chance to live in a beautiful two-bedroom condo for free. In North Carolina. Within six hours of my family. And I can keep my current job. When I do need to come back to DC, it's only a four-hour drive or a measly 45 minute flight. It feels like an offer I can't refuse.
This is how I figure it. I go live there for the rest of the 2011 while I still have my current job. I save up some money (hello, no rent) and begin making a professional network there. If when December comes around, my current contract is not removed, I begin looking for jobs in the Research Triangle. Worst case scenario is I land a job in DC or elsewhere and have to move again, but with some extra cash set aside.What if the condo sells? My uncle has already offered me the entire top floor of his new house where I'd have room for a separate office for the rest of the year.
Seriously, I feel like I can't lose. It's a low-risk opportunity to try something new on a trial basis. I feel like I have to go for it.
Until last week. My uncle, who lives in Durham, emailed me to see if I was still interested in moving to North Carolina. He's building a new house and while his condo is on the market, he wants me to come stay there to keep an eye on the place. Rent free. Currently I am paying out the nose for a bedroom in a shared house where I have no privacy other than in my bedroom and am awakened daily by a pissy chihuahua. So, I'm being offered a chance to live in a beautiful two-bedroom condo for free. In North Carolina. Within six hours of my family. And I can keep my current job. When I do need to come back to DC, it's only a four-hour drive or a measly 45 minute flight. It feels like an offer I can't refuse.
This is how I figure it. I go live there for the rest of the 2011 while I still have my current job. I save up some money (hello, no rent) and begin making a professional network there. If when December comes around, my current contract is not removed, I begin looking for jobs in the Research Triangle. Worst case scenario is I land a job in DC or elsewhere and have to move again, but with some extra cash set aside.What if the condo sells? My uncle has already offered me the entire top floor of his new house where I'd have room for a separate office for the rest of the year.
Seriously, I feel like I can't lose. It's a low-risk opportunity to try something new on a trial basis. I feel like I have to go for it.
Hopes for the New Year
You'd think an extra day at home to spend with my mom eating Thai food and watching season 2 of Dexter would've made me smile, not cry. But knowing that eventually I'd have to leave home again and return to the desolate land of my sublet room in Arlington had me in tears. It doesn't matter if I'm there for 2 days or 2 weeks; it never feels like enough.
Don't get me wrong. My family drives me nuts when I'm there. My nephew shot me in the face with a Nerf gun. My oldest brother refused to join my mom and me in Augusta to see my other brother who was on call at the hospital on Christmas, opting instead to go to an NFL game. My mom snored all night long on Christmas, keeping me up and making me want to put a pillow over her face.
And yet, I love them more than anything. I feel like I'm missing so much when I'm in DC. And I'm finally beginning to see that as long as I'm there, it will almost always be me making the trip to see them, not the other way around. In the five and a half years of living a plane ride away from home, I've been visited four times by my mom; two times by my middle brother, and zero times by my oldest brother. It's not that they don't care. It's just...I don't know. I'm the only one far away. Being a plane ride away takes out all the spontaneity of traveling, at least for those of us on a budget. It'd be so much easier if we all could just jump in the car and be together for a random weekend.
Now I'm back thinking that I do want to move, maybe not right away but eventually. My uncle in Chapel Hill is building a new house and his paid-for condo probably won't do well on the market, given the housing situation nationwide. He said, mostly in jest, "It would make my life a lot easier if you'd move to North Carolina." But, it got me thinking about what life would be like there. All of my emotions aside, next to DC the Research Triangle is probably the best place for me work-wise. I was contacted by someone there a few weeks ago who works on population issues. She'd be a great contact. And, I even met a man from there a few weeks ago that I instantly clicked with. I told him I was thinking of moving and he said, "I'd be your friend!"
I'm not into New Year's resolution (although I do plan to join a new gym when I get back to DC, only because my current one smells like a diaper.) But I do have hopes for this year--that it would be a time when something clicks. That I'd get that opportunity, meet that person, realize that one thing that will make the foreseeable future a little less daunting. That I'd realize where I'm supposed to be--DC, NC, or somewhere else--and feel at peace about it. I'm open to all of the possibilities before me.
Don't get me wrong. My family drives me nuts when I'm there. My nephew shot me in the face with a Nerf gun. My oldest brother refused to join my mom and me in Augusta to see my other brother who was on call at the hospital on Christmas, opting instead to go to an NFL game. My mom snored all night long on Christmas, keeping me up and making me want to put a pillow over her face.
And yet, I love them more than anything. I feel like I'm missing so much when I'm in DC. And I'm finally beginning to see that as long as I'm there, it will almost always be me making the trip to see them, not the other way around. In the five and a half years of living a plane ride away from home, I've been visited four times by my mom; two times by my middle brother, and zero times by my oldest brother. It's not that they don't care. It's just...I don't know. I'm the only one far away. Being a plane ride away takes out all the spontaneity of traveling, at least for those of us on a budget. It'd be so much easier if we all could just jump in the car and be together for a random weekend.
Now I'm back thinking that I do want to move, maybe not right away but eventually. My uncle in Chapel Hill is building a new house and his paid-for condo probably won't do well on the market, given the housing situation nationwide. He said, mostly in jest, "It would make my life a lot easier if you'd move to North Carolina." But, it got me thinking about what life would be like there. All of my emotions aside, next to DC the Research Triangle is probably the best place for me work-wise. I was contacted by someone there a few weeks ago who works on population issues. She'd be a great contact. And, I even met a man from there a few weeks ago that I instantly clicked with. I told him I was thinking of moving and he said, "I'd be your friend!"
I'm not into New Year's resolution (although I do plan to join a new gym when I get back to DC, only because my current one smells like a diaper.) But I do have hopes for this year--that it would be a time when something clicks. That I'd get that opportunity, meet that person, realize that one thing that will make the foreseeable future a little less daunting. That I'd realize where I'm supposed to be--DC, NC, or somewhere else--and feel at peace about it. I'm open to all of the possibilities before me.
I Saw the Sign
When I was choosing my undergraduate institution, when I decided to get my masters, when I met SCL, when I left school for a period of time, when I accepted my current job, there were signs--confirmations, gut feelings, a sense of peace, resolution, and certainty. I am hoping, looking even, for a sign in this time of discernment.
Fun and hilarious dinner with Date Me, DC!--sign I should stay? Horrible DC happy hour full of networking assholes--sign I should leave? Yesterday I even broke my own "no dating" rule and went out with someone. Even then I was thinking, "Maybe if we have a connection...would that be a sign?" (We didn't, by the way.)
I am a person of faith and I do believe that being in an open, receptive state can bring about clarity--either through signs, a gut feeling, or some other sense of rightness. I'm not going to get my answer in a pro/con list. Believe me, I've tried that. Multiple times. The truth is there are plenty of reasons for me to stay in DC and reasons for me to go; reasons for me to move to North Carolina and reasons for me not to.
Some have warned me, "Don't make an emotional decision." As if choices that concern the heart are ever entirely logical--or that they ought to be. As if emotions are unimportant and valueless. As if this desire to make a change in my life is me just being emotional (sexist, much?). The heart is important, and so are our feelings, even as they fade and change and confuse us.
So, instead of indulging in fantasies about a new life or fixating on the things I dislike about DC, I'm trying to practice openness and patience, hoping that once again the answer will come in time. I truly believe it will.
Fun and hilarious dinner with Date Me, DC!--sign I should stay? Horrible DC happy hour full of networking assholes--sign I should leave? Yesterday I even broke my own "no dating" rule and went out with someone. Even then I was thinking, "Maybe if we have a connection...would that be a sign?" (We didn't, by the way.)
I am a person of faith and I do believe that being in an open, receptive state can bring about clarity--either through signs, a gut feeling, or some other sense of rightness. I'm not going to get my answer in a pro/con list. Believe me, I've tried that. Multiple times. The truth is there are plenty of reasons for me to stay in DC and reasons for me to go; reasons for me to move to North Carolina and reasons for me not to.
Some have warned me, "Don't make an emotional decision." As if choices that concern the heart are ever entirely logical--or that they ought to be. As if emotions are unimportant and valueless. As if this desire to make a change in my life is me just being emotional (sexist, much?). The heart is important, and so are our feelings, even as they fade and change and confuse us.
So, instead of indulging in fantasies about a new life or fixating on the things I dislike about DC, I'm trying to practice openness and patience, hoping that once again the answer will come in time. I truly believe it will.
Give Me the Green Light
If it wasn't obvious in my last post, I have been considering the possibility of moving back to Charlotte, North Carolina. Considering the possibility. Ok, that and indulging in fantasies about what it would be like to be able to afford a real grown-up apartment on my own.
In thinking about a potential move, the only real hang-up I could foresee was my job. Other than travel stories, I haven't shared much about my work on the blog (hello, relative anonymity). I'm a contractor for a non-profit. I telecommute (i.e. work from home) about 95% of the time and essentially I can do my job anywhere there's Internet and a good airport. But, since I do advocacy work, it is helpful for me to be in DC--to go to meetings, briefings, and the occasional visit with a member of Congress. So, while not essential and not part of my contract, being in DC, at least some of the time, is a good thing for me professionally, both for right now and for future work opportunities. (Although I'm really wondering if I want to stay in this rat race for the long-run anyway.)
You can imagine my relief, then, when I brought this up with my supervisor and she said, "As a contractor, I can't tell you where you can do your work. It's illegal! That and the most important part of your job is not the work you do on the Hill but the grassroots work you're doing in the field." Shew, ok! Not a barrier.Plus DC is just an hour's flight from Charlotte. Then she said, "Forgive me, I'm taking off my professional hat now and putting on the friend hat, but I do worry that you may be trying to run away from problems that are rooted in the internal, not the external."
Let me say that my supervisor/boss is like another mother to me. She's someone I've known for years, and I feel incredibly thankful to work with her now. She's wise, grounded, and an incredible listener. She knows all about my life, SCL, and my general feelings of unhappiness. And if there's anyone in DC whose perspective I would want, it's hers.
"I agree with you," I admitted. I know that I have a shit-ton of work to do on myself. Happiness and satisfaction come from within, and if I want to experience them, I will have to do that hard work no matter where I end up living. But my feeling is that changing some of the external things and improving my quality of life that way may actually facilitate doing that internal work. Right now I feel like my attempts to do the internal work are actually being hindered by the external things in my life here.
What I truly want in this situation is to feel like I have a choice in the matter.If I decide to stay in DC, it will be because I chose to. And if I decide to move, it will be a decision I am making for myself. Knowing I have a choice is incredibly liberating. Now I've got a lot of discerning, thinking, and journaling to do. But I believe in time I'll have my answer.
In thinking about a potential move, the only real hang-up I could foresee was my job. Other than travel stories, I haven't shared much about my work on the blog (hello, relative anonymity). I'm a contractor for a non-profit. I telecommute (i.e. work from home) about 95% of the time and essentially I can do my job anywhere there's Internet and a good airport. But, since I do advocacy work, it is helpful for me to be in DC--to go to meetings, briefings, and the occasional visit with a member of Congress. So, while not essential and not part of my contract, being in DC, at least some of the time, is a good thing for me professionally, both for right now and for future work opportunities. (Although I'm really wondering if I want to stay in this rat race for the long-run anyway.)
You can imagine my relief, then, when I brought this up with my supervisor and she said, "As a contractor, I can't tell you where you can do your work. It's illegal! That and the most important part of your job is not the work you do on the Hill but the grassroots work you're doing in the field." Shew, ok! Not a barrier.Plus DC is just an hour's flight from Charlotte. Then she said, "Forgive me, I'm taking off my professional hat now and putting on the friend hat, but I do worry that you may be trying to run away from problems that are rooted in the internal, not the external."
Let me say that my supervisor/boss is like another mother to me. She's someone I've known for years, and I feel incredibly thankful to work with her now. She's wise, grounded, and an incredible listener. She knows all about my life, SCL, and my general feelings of unhappiness. And if there's anyone in DC whose perspective I would want, it's hers.
"I agree with you," I admitted. I know that I have a shit-ton of work to do on myself. Happiness and satisfaction come from within, and if I want to experience them, I will have to do that hard work no matter where I end up living. But my feeling is that changing some of the external things and improving my quality of life that way may actually facilitate doing that internal work. Right now I feel like my attempts to do the internal work are actually being hindered by the external things in my life here.
If you'll indulge me, here are a few of the external things Charlotte would offer.
- Lower cost of living
- Slower pace of life
- Better weather (NC springs are the best)
- Within driving distance of my entire immediate family
- Within driving distance of my best friend
- Hub for other alums from my college
- Familiarity
- Distance from SCL (I mean, c'mon. It's tough living 3 blocks away from each other sometimes.)
- Good friends and mentors in the area
What I truly want in this situation is to feel like I have a choice in the matter.If I decide to stay in DC, it will be because I chose to. And if I decide to move, it will be a decision I am making for myself. Knowing I have a choice is incredibly liberating. Now I've got a lot of discerning, thinking, and journaling to do. But I believe in time I'll have my answer.
Carolina in My Mind
I'm packing up to hit the road, but this time not for work. Imagine that! Tomorrow I'll be heading down to North Carolina for my fifth year college reunion. I've been looking forward to this since last fall when life looked a lot different.
I haven't been talking about my ex SCL on the blog much anymore, but he's been on my mind this week, mostly because of this reunion. This may be the last occasion that I'd really looking forward to doing together. My college is the one place I idealize, and I smiled at the thought of worlds colliding, of bringing him into my circle of friends and beloved professors and memories. I pictured the ring that would inevitably be on my finger by then, one like this, and how I'd get to talk with my old classmates about save-the-dates and honeymoon plans.
It was a pretty picture. And now it's another loss.
My college town is straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting. It's got a Main Street with an old-school soda shop. The town is manicured and picturesque in a way that normally would irritate me. I love the city, especially for its diversity and realness. But for me this college town is my happy place, the one place I've forgiven all the bad and romanticized the reality. I think we all need something like that.
But, I don't feel like I'm going to fit back into that pretty picture. I see my classmates who seem to fit right in with their gorgeous wedding photos and chubby-cheeked cherub children. They will fit, I think to myself. But me? I feel like I've fallen behind on some understood timeline, that regardless of its ridiculousness does at times like these make me feel inadequate.
As much as I don't want it to, I realize that this weekend may bring feelings of loneliness, of grief, and I should try to prepare myself for that possibility. It's an opportunity for me to practice that kindness toward self that I keep talking about, to allow for the space to feel what I'm feeling. And, I also know it's going to be fantastically fun to be back in my college town. I've already got three catch-up sessions with my favorite professors lined up! And of course I will enjoy seeing old friends and talking about old times.
So, it will be a bittersweet weekend, but one that I'm looking forward to regardless. It's just one of those times I really wish I could share with SCL.
What Has Been Helpful
If I wanted to, I could already fill up a week's worth of blog posts about unhelpful things people have said to me in the time since the break-up. Many of them would come from comments I've received on this blog. I really do not understand people's lack of compassion--or see someone else's pain as an opportunity to be an asshole. Saying things like "Just move on already" is NOT HELPFUL. Then again, maybe these people aren't trying to be helpful in the first place, to which I say, "Go fuck yourself."
Anyway, I had breakfast with a good friend and minister (read: someone who has been trained to deal with people's emotional shit) yesterday morning. She just listened as I told her what had happened and how scared I was about the future. I do feel like I'm at a point in my life when I'm ready to have a partnership with someone and get married. I'm scared that it will never happen for me.
I said, "I know there's really nothing anyone can say to make me feel better, but can you try?" And she said something along the lines of this:
Anyway, I had breakfast with a good friend and minister (read: someone who has been trained to deal with people's emotional shit) yesterday morning. She just listened as I told her what had happened and how scared I was about the future. I do feel like I'm at a point in my life when I'm ready to have a partnership with someone and get married. I'm scared that it will never happen for me.
I said, "I know there's really nothing anyone can say to make me feel better, but can you try?" And she said something along the lines of this:
I have seen many people in the midst of darkness--grief, loss, mourning, despair, hopelessness--just like where you are right now. And I have seen those people in time move into places of great joy and thriving and new opportunity, things they never could have predicted while in that dark place.That is the hope, isn't it?
The Good (and Hard) Life
“Life is good. Life is hard. These two truths are unrelated.” Stacy Morrison
I’m not sure why I decided to pick up Stacy Morrison’s Falling Apart in One Piece, a memoir about going through a divorce. For someone like me who is trying to piece a broken relationship back together, it certainly wasn’t inspiring to read about the pain and heartache of dissolving a marriage. I struggled to get through it at times, her tales of disaster upon disaster (some divorce-related, others just plain old life-related) which at times sounded a bit on the melodramatic side, even for someone going through hell.
I waded through nearly 200 pages of sadness and misery until her words began to click. I saw much of myself in Morrison as a young woman—focused on pushing, pushing, pushing to a place that she imagined would be safe, secure, and stable. Only after they divorced did she realize she’d left her partner behind.
When SCL and I first started dating and I realized where the relationship was heading, I remember telling my mom how hard I planned to work to make our relationship last. It was like I was armed and ready for the first conflict to arise, so I could tackle it, identify our issues, work through them, and continue forward. I wanted to anticipate every single problem that we would face and be ready to work through it. I was going to make it work no matter what, damnit! I wasn’t going to be one of the statistics about children from divorced parents. I saw my relationship with SCL as something to be conquered rather than cherished.
And what that meant was that in preparing to combat the future problems and issues, I lost sight of the daily joys, the small pleasures, the being together on the couch, the real stuff that made our relationship what it was. I quickly became so engrossed with creating a long-lasting relationship that I forgot to nurture the relationship I had at the time: a young, exciting, vulnerable, unpredictable love.
What I couldn’t prepare for was rupture. In my mind I was already at the altar, making a commitment to SCL, that it hadn’t occurred to me that I had charged ahead of him, leaving him behind. I didn’t realize that he’d wanted to slow down (in part because he had not told me) when all I wanted to do was accelerate to a place where I thought I’d feel safe: a ring on my finger, a public commitment made, and a life bonded together by marriage. I wanted SCL to grow up—to catch up. Then, I thought, I would be content with where we were and could really start living as partners, as a family. Then his parents would accept our relationship as something real. Then I could really love him the way that I want—freely, generously, and without fear.
In the months since SCL broke up and made up, I have found myself in a constant state of anxiety and fear about our coming back together. Am I just setting myself up for more heartache? Have we learned anything in such a short period of time that would really help in beginning again? I fear SCL’s lack of commitment and what that might mean for the future. I tell myself, “If this isn’t forever, then it isn’t worth it.” My love for him has become tainted by fear, which is a hard place for love to reside. Some of the time my love feels more like desperation, like I’m just clinging to what one day I might lose again—ring or no ring.
There is no way to know if these decisions I am making now—to stay with SCL, to be patient with the process, even to live a few blocks away from him—are ¬wise or foolish. But I know they are heartfelt and risky and out of the love, care, and hope I have for him and for our relationship. I want to love without fear of the unknown. I want to give myself to SCL in spite of him having hurt me and how difficult this time has been. I cannot control him, his actions, or his feelings. I cannot dictate how the next month or year or decade will go. But I can be true to myself in how I love and live throughout this good, yet hard time of uncertainty and discovery.
I’m not sure why I decided to pick up Stacy Morrison’s Falling Apart in One Piece, a memoir about going through a divorce. For someone like me who is trying to piece a broken relationship back together, it certainly wasn’t inspiring to read about the pain and heartache of dissolving a marriage. I struggled to get through it at times, her tales of disaster upon disaster (some divorce-related, others just plain old life-related) which at times sounded a bit on the melodramatic side, even for someone going through hell.
I waded through nearly 200 pages of sadness and misery until her words began to click. I saw much of myself in Morrison as a young woman—focused on pushing, pushing, pushing to a place that she imagined would be safe, secure, and stable. Only after they divorced did she realize she’d left her partner behind.
When SCL and I first started dating and I realized where the relationship was heading, I remember telling my mom how hard I planned to work to make our relationship last. It was like I was armed and ready for the first conflict to arise, so I could tackle it, identify our issues, work through them, and continue forward. I wanted to anticipate every single problem that we would face and be ready to work through it. I was going to make it work no matter what, damnit! I wasn’t going to be one of the statistics about children from divorced parents. I saw my relationship with SCL as something to be conquered rather than cherished.
And what that meant was that in preparing to combat the future problems and issues, I lost sight of the daily joys, the small pleasures, the being together on the couch, the real stuff that made our relationship what it was. I quickly became so engrossed with creating a long-lasting relationship that I forgot to nurture the relationship I had at the time: a young, exciting, vulnerable, unpredictable love.
What I couldn’t prepare for was rupture. In my mind I was already at the altar, making a commitment to SCL, that it hadn’t occurred to me that I had charged ahead of him, leaving him behind. I didn’t realize that he’d wanted to slow down (in part because he had not told me) when all I wanted to do was accelerate to a place where I thought I’d feel safe: a ring on my finger, a public commitment made, and a life bonded together by marriage. I wanted SCL to grow up—to catch up. Then, I thought, I would be content with where we were and could really start living as partners, as a family. Then his parents would accept our relationship as something real. Then I could really love him the way that I want—freely, generously, and without fear.
In the months since SCL broke up and made up, I have found myself in a constant state of anxiety and fear about our coming back together. Am I just setting myself up for more heartache? Have we learned anything in such a short period of time that would really help in beginning again? I fear SCL’s lack of commitment and what that might mean for the future. I tell myself, “If this isn’t forever, then it isn’t worth it.” My love for him has become tainted by fear, which is a hard place for love to reside. Some of the time my love feels more like desperation, like I’m just clinging to what one day I might lose again—ring or no ring.
There is no way to know if these decisions I am making now—to stay with SCL, to be patient with the process, even to live a few blocks away from him—are ¬wise or foolish. But I know they are heartfelt and risky and out of the love, care, and hope I have for him and for our relationship. I want to love without fear of the unknown. I want to give myself to SCL in spite of him having hurt me and how difficult this time has been. I cannot control him, his actions, or his feelings. I cannot dictate how the next month or year or decade will go. But I can be true to myself in how I love and live throughout this good, yet hard time of uncertainty and discovery.
In an Ideal World...
SCL would be:
- Five years older, done with school, and more grown up
- More excited and less anxious about making a commitment to me
- More appreciative of how much I love him and how dedicated I am to being a good partner
I would be:
- Less fixated on my relationship issues
- More secure in myself
- Value my needs as much as I do his
Our relationship would be:
- More defined
- Stable
- Mutually affirming
- Satisfying for both of us
A woman can dream, right?
Think Again Thursday: On Compromise
Writing from the lovely Acela train up to attend my beautiful friend L's wedding this weekend. Very exciting!
I want to spend some time deconstructing and unpacking the whole "don't compromise" bit of advice that I'm sure we've all given, received, doubted, absorbed, or rejected at some point in our lives. During my short relationship "pause" with SCL, I heard this from many well-intentioned friends and loved ones. Of course at that point I was bemoaning how the relationship hadn't been what I wanted (my, how easy it is to say that in the midst of a break-up!), so naturally the response I got was, "He wasn't right for you, and don't compromise what you want in a relationship."
Now, to a certain degree, I do support not compromising on certain things:
I want to spend some time deconstructing and unpacking the whole "don't compromise" bit of advice that I'm sure we've all given, received, doubted, absorbed, or rejected at some point in our lives. During my short relationship "pause" with SCL, I heard this from many well-intentioned friends and loved ones. Of course at that point I was bemoaning how the relationship hadn't been what I wanted (my, how easy it is to say that in the midst of a break-up!), so naturally the response I got was, "He wasn't right for you, and don't compromise what you want in a relationship."
Now, to a certain degree, I do support not compromising on certain things:
- Key core values (for me that would include feminism, gender equality, and progressive causes)
- Major life goals (getting/not getting married, having/not having children)
- Safety (Obvious, but worth stating)
Essentially, I support not compromising on what makes you a complete whole human being. The problem is that I think our expectations about what it requires for us to achieve satisfaction and a sense of wholeness are seriously skewed and more akin to Disney films than something we can actually reasonably expect to achieve.
I am the biggest culprit of this. I don't even pretend not to envy my many friends who are in relationships that are on a sure path to marriage. I have wanted this for over a year with SCL. The desire to marry is a core value for me. What is not essential about that is the exact time, place, and details about how that will occur. But over time I had convinced myself that I needed SCL to commit by this time and in this way with this kind of ring. I had talked to myself so much about that I was convinced that it was true.
How do I know this isn't true? Because SCL and I together despite a short break-up, not getting engaged, and moving out of our apartment. Granted it hasn't been long since all of this stuff happened, but the fact that we somehow find a way to move through all that crap is an indication to me that we've still got something worth fighting for. And our interactions are more healthy than they ever were when we were talking about rings. He is honest with me about what he wants; I do the same; and we are talking about how to get to a new place where we are both satisfied.
We can choose not to compromise--to toss aside the relationship that doesn't match up with what we want, when we want it. I could do that with SCL. I've thought about it. I think to myself, "Oh, I just want to find someone older and ready to get married." Maybe that would work out, at least for the time being. But who's to say that this other partner and I would continue to be on the same page for the next five years or ten years or however long? And why in the hell would I turn my back on the person I've loved for two years, who is trying really hard to be the partner I need?
When we were dealing with the whole couch situation, I was PISSED at SCL. BIG TIME. In a matter of about 15 seconds, I had worked myself up into a fury directed at him. If he hadn't broken up with me, if he hadn't insisted on moving out of our apartment, I would never be living in this new place that was too fucking small for my couch. Therefore, it was SCL's fault that the couch didn't fit, and I wanted to give him hell about it. He finally yelled at me, "Sometimes things don't work out the way we want them to!" Not his fault. Not my fault. Just, c'est la vie. Damn it. It's so much better being able to target my anger at another person.
I don't want to view my relationship with SCL--the person most precious to me--through a lens of consumerism. I don't want to wake up one day "unsatisfied," assume that this feeling is an indication that something is wrong with the relationship itself (rather than recognizing life's ebb and flow of happiness), convince myself I'm compromising, and walk away from it. I don't want to blame any lacking I feel on my relationship when there simply are times when I will not have what I want, when I want it.
So, I am compromising. On certain things. Not things that I absolutely need right this second. And I am learning to be alright with being in that place.
Indulge Me, Will You?
I'm out of town for work and a wedding this week, so posting will be briefer for a bit. Stick with me!
The other day I asked SCL if he still thought it was kind of silly that I wanted a "not small" diamond engagement ring. I have fat fingers, sue me! I've mentioned before that this has been a point of contention between us in the past. He said, "Not as much." Ha!
Let's be honest. Diamonds have got some serious baggage. We need only recall Blood Diamond to remember why. SCL and I are in agreement that any rings we get need to be conflict-free. Back when we were looking at rings, I found this site Brilliant Earth and instantly fell in love: totally conflict-free diamonds, recycled metal, but still way expensive.
I'm in love. And it's WAY less expensive than the diamond-center-stone version. So, I think when the time comes (if it ever does), I may mention to SCL that I'd like to look at other stones. You know, sapphires are rarer than diamonds.
The other day I asked SCL if he still thought it was kind of silly that I wanted a "not small" diamond engagement ring. I have fat fingers, sue me! I've mentioned before that this has been a point of contention between us in the past. He said, "Not as much." Ha!
Let's be honest. Diamonds have got some serious baggage. We need only recall Blood Diamond to remember why. SCL and I are in agreement that any rings we get need to be conflict-free. Back when we were looking at rings, I found this site Brilliant Earth and instantly fell in love: totally conflict-free diamonds, recycled metal, but still way expensive.
So last night as I struggled to fall asleep in my strange hotel room, I got to thinking of alternatives. I'm not a traditional woman; so why would I want a traditional ring? I began googling "alternative engagement rings" when I came upon sapphire rings. Look at this beauty.
Shutting the Door
SCL and I had an exhausting weekend of doing the dreaded move-out cleaning of the apartment, as well as selling our beloved couch. It was an emotionally draining, not to mention physically exhausting, weekend. The whole process of packing up and saying good-bye to the place seemed to take forever. SCL moved out at the beginning of June. Then I had another month before moving myself and then a week after that before we said our final good-byes.
I know it sounds kind of silly to be saying good-bye to a sterile apartment in a generic high rise building, but it was our first home together. I can only hope it won't be our last. And after this weekend, I have more reason to believe that we will build a home together again.
I've talked a lot about my impatience with SCL to say something definitive about our relationship. I've waited what has felt like an eternity for some kind of indication--either way, I just wanted to know. I was getting fed up with his wavering, his non-committal "I don't know"s. But I resisted my urge to blow up and demand answers. I reminded myself that this was a time of transition, that nothing major ought to be decided in the middle of this upheaval. As Elizabeth Gilbert talks about in Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace with Marriage
, there are times when we must say to one another, be careful. We need to be very careful about what we say during times of confusion, exhaustion, and distress.
Of course I rarely actually practice this. Last week when the fucking couch wouldn't fit up the goddamn stairs, I cried out, "Now you're going to get what you want--the money for the couch!" Not my most mature moment. But I do try. When I think about it.
Anyway, this is all to say I have done my damndest to keep my mouth shut and let SCL be in his process. And as we packed up the apartment, cleaned every little crevice of the bathroom tile and the kitchen floor, his emotion poured out. We wept together over what we were losing--of what we were both incredibly sad to be letting go of. That was the moment when I least expected a word of comfort, but instead that was what I got.
"This won't be the last time we share a home together." Guess who said this? Not me--SCL. He went on to tell me how these past few months have been incredibly important for him, for gaining perspective on our relationship and readjusting his expectations about what a relationship should be--from a fantasy to the reality that relationships have good times and bad, that we feel good and bad at times, and that all of this is normal and not an indication that there is anything wrong with the relationship itself. "I can picture a life with you," he said.
He can picture a life with me. I cannot even tell you how important it was for him to say this and for me to hear it at that moment. All along I've been thinking that this moving apart was a moving away from a future together--that we were moving backward. I'd been deathly afraid of the day when we finally left our place together because it meant that we had failed, that we were broken and never were going to put ourselves back together.
But I realized in that moment that it didn't have to be that way. SCL told me in no uncertain terms that he viewed this time of living apart as a step forward to making a commitment to each other (my non-scary way of saying "getting married"). He told me that he hadn't been ready to do that a year ago, but he didn't know that until we were in the middle of it. "Next time, "he said, "I want to be ready to do this right."
I brought up my concerns about waiting until he was done with school. Another four years just seemed like too long. He told me that while he's still in coursework, it will be a tough time for him. But once his comprehensive exams are done (probably in another year and a half) he will be in a much better place academically and will have freedom that he doesn't right now. I could tell that he had obviously thought about this extensively. See, even though he wasn't saying much the last few months, he was thinking about us.
As we did our final walk-through--and remembered the bottle of ketchup in the fridge that we'd forgotten--we held each other and shed a few tears. But we walked out together, hand-in-hand. We went back to his new place. He played the piano; I sang. We ate Ben & Jerry's out of the carton and cuddled on the couch.
And I realized, we may have shut the door on our old place, but not on our life together.
I know it sounds kind of silly to be saying good-bye to a sterile apartment in a generic high rise building, but it was our first home together. I can only hope it won't be our last. And after this weekend, I have more reason to believe that we will build a home together again.
I've talked a lot about my impatience with SCL to say something definitive about our relationship. I've waited what has felt like an eternity for some kind of indication--either way, I just wanted to know. I was getting fed up with his wavering, his non-committal "I don't know"s. But I resisted my urge to blow up and demand answers. I reminded myself that this was a time of transition, that nothing major ought to be decided in the middle of this upheaval. As Elizabeth Gilbert talks about in Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace with Marriage
, there are times when we must say to one another, be careful. We need to be very careful about what we say during times of confusion, exhaustion, and distress.Of course I rarely actually practice this. Last week when the fucking couch wouldn't fit up the goddamn stairs, I cried out, "Now you're going to get what you want--the money for the couch!" Not my most mature moment. But I do try. When I think about it.
Anyway, this is all to say I have done my damndest to keep my mouth shut and let SCL be in his process. And as we packed up the apartment, cleaned every little crevice of the bathroom tile and the kitchen floor, his emotion poured out. We wept together over what we were losing--of what we were both incredibly sad to be letting go of. That was the moment when I least expected a word of comfort, but instead that was what I got.
"This won't be the last time we share a home together." Guess who said this? Not me--SCL. He went on to tell me how these past few months have been incredibly important for him, for gaining perspective on our relationship and readjusting his expectations about what a relationship should be--from a fantasy to the reality that relationships have good times and bad, that we feel good and bad at times, and that all of this is normal and not an indication that there is anything wrong with the relationship itself. "I can picture a life with you," he said.
He can picture a life with me. I cannot even tell you how important it was for him to say this and for me to hear it at that moment. All along I've been thinking that this moving apart was a moving away from a future together--that we were moving backward. I'd been deathly afraid of the day when we finally left our place together because it meant that we had failed, that we were broken and never were going to put ourselves back together.
But I realized in that moment that it didn't have to be that way. SCL told me in no uncertain terms that he viewed this time of living apart as a step forward to making a commitment to each other (my non-scary way of saying "getting married"). He told me that he hadn't been ready to do that a year ago, but he didn't know that until we were in the middle of it. "Next time, "he said, "I want to be ready to do this right."
I brought up my concerns about waiting until he was done with school. Another four years just seemed like too long. He told me that while he's still in coursework, it will be a tough time for him. But once his comprehensive exams are done (probably in another year and a half) he will be in a much better place academically and will have freedom that he doesn't right now. I could tell that he had obviously thought about this extensively. See, even though he wasn't saying much the last few months, he was thinking about us.
As we did our final walk-through--and remembered the bottle of ketchup in the fridge that we'd forgotten--we held each other and shed a few tears. But we walked out together, hand-in-hand. We went back to his new place. He played the piano; I sang. We ate Ben & Jerry's out of the carton and cuddled on the couch.
And I realized, we may have shut the door on our old place, but not on our life together.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)