I never realized how much emotional baggage a vehicle could hold until we traded one in last weekend.
Growing up with a mother who avoided the most necessary of tasks in order to function in her anxiety-filled state of being, I have overcompensated to a fault. I'm the person who is likely to put that beloved t-shirt you haven't donned since last September in the discard pile and get it to the Goodwill before you can spot in missing in your bottom drawer. The second something pops up that causes me an ounce of anxiety, I am on a mission to resolve it as quickly as possible, even if it means a trip to the dentist or the gynecologist or, worst of all, the DMV.
At the same time, I am an incredibly cautious when it comes to financial decisions that have long-term implications. Truth be told, I haven't been in that situation much in my adult life. I've had to sign leases for pricey apartments in Connecticut and DC, but that's about the extent of it. Thanks to the generosity of my aforementioned anxious mother, I've been driving the same clunker since college, which suits me just fine. It takes a lot of energy to enter a car dealership, don't you think?
What's funny is that we weren't even replacing my car. We were out to trader in MT's functioning, yet rapidly deteriorating Saturn Vue. Let me tell you, finding a part for a car from a manufacturer that no longer exists is about as easy as scouring Ebay for a pair of gently used silver size 10 Jimmy Choo pumps. Sure, they might be out there, but how much of your time and energy do you want to spend on your search?
While the Vue was running just fine, minus a few brake pad replacements here and there, it had some cosmetic things that were starting to become problematic. For instance, the passenger side door developed a leak between the window and the door, so that after a hard rainstorm, which is basically a daily afternoon occurrence in the summer, when MT made his first hard left turn, I'd end up with a bunch of stinky brown rain water dumped in my lap. So, we'd still get where we were going, but not in the most pleasant way imaginable.
Ultimately my desire to remain dry on the way to a restaurant on date night overrode my desire to put off a huge financial decision and we ended up at the dealership looking at a slightly used SUV that had features that pretty much made us start salivating, although we tried not to let on to the salesman that we were desperate. When he'd leave us alone for a minute to check on numbers, we'd squeal, "The Bluetooth is AWESOME! We can listen to Pandora while we drive. Omg, Santigold station!" "Don't you love the wooden finish on the inner console? It looks so classy! And there are FOUR cup holders in the front. We can have two drinks each!"
Of course, by the time you actually purchase the car and fill out the dozens of required forms, it's nearly impossible to even remember what the car you've bought even looks like. There were moments of serious impatience, mostly due to my not having eaten anything since breakfast other than the complimentary popcorn the dealership had for its customers. "I didn't even know we were buying a car today," I snapped at one point. Somehow we managed to push through the five hour purchase process and made our way home in our new ride, playing with all of the buttons and calling everyone we could via Bluetooth (obviously).
But, it did something deeper than I was expecting. Trading in theVue for a car that we both have equal ownership of was yet another step towards solidifying our new life together as a married couple, putting behind the cars and memories and decisions of the past and looking toward our future of road trips and kids in car seats and joint decision-making. I love our car because it adds to the narrative of us. It means new adventures and memories that we'll make together, singing to the Beatles and Maroon 5 and James Taylor the whole way. The keyless entry ain't so bad either.
Showing posts with label Moving On. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Moving On. Show all posts
The Ghosts of a Job Past
When I first started this blog in the summer of 2009, I was preparing to move to DC and begin a new life. What I never really bothered to mention was what I was leaving, in particular a job that I absolutely despised.
Like most just-out-of-school jobs, mine was crappy for normal reasons: a long-commute, low pay, little creative freedom, and post-academia life confusion. But, on top of that I had the meanest, most manipulative, self-absorbed, deluded psycho of a boss, who seemed to really enjoy making my life miserable. About a month before my departure (and no other job lined up at the time), we had a major blow-up after she mocked something I'd worked hard on. I told her that I absolutely hated coming to work everyday.
Now, a few years later, I realize that it was in part my immaturity that made my job so miserable. But, since leaving that organization, I've seen how my former boss continues to alienate and manipulate her way through her professional life. She and I are on mostly pleasant terms, and she even invites me to participate in some events together. As it turns out, I'm becoming an important player in the field, and I work for a powerful organization. She keeps me in the loop because she needs to. I keep her at a safe, but friendly arm's length if you know what I mean. I feel I'm too early in my career to be burning bridges, even if they're with people I'd rather not cross over to see.
But now, I'm not so sure. I got a truly hysterical email from my old boss, claiming financial ruin and begging for money--and that it was, of course, someone else's fault. As it turns out, the someone else is a dear colleague, and I couldn't believe that this was the whole story. More details have come out since then, and I am finding myself more and more upset that she's throwing this person under the bus. I don't know what is true and what is a lie, but she has stooped to an all-time low to benefit herself.
It's tough to be looped into all of this, and be in the midst of the noise of it all. She's blowing up Twitter, Facebook, the Internet with this stuff, and I just want nothing to do with it. Eventually, I decided to write her a short "I'm sorry" email and let it go. But her requests for money kept coming in, and I started to feel badly for her staff whose jobs are on the line. Finally, I sent her a small donation this morning just to have some peace of mind. It's tax-deductible, and it's money I could afford to give.
I feel a little better now. But most of all, I'm saddened by this implosion in our community. There aren't many people doing what we're doing, and to feel it crumbling apart from the inside is truly a sad thing. I'm just thankful I got out of there, and that for now, I have peace in my job.
Like most just-out-of-school jobs, mine was crappy for normal reasons: a long-commute, low pay, little creative freedom, and post-academia life confusion. But, on top of that I had the meanest, most manipulative, self-absorbed, deluded psycho of a boss, who seemed to really enjoy making my life miserable. About a month before my departure (and no other job lined up at the time), we had a major blow-up after she mocked something I'd worked hard on. I told her that I absolutely hated coming to work everyday.
Now, a few years later, I realize that it was in part my immaturity that made my job so miserable. But, since leaving that organization, I've seen how my former boss continues to alienate and manipulate her way through her professional life. She and I are on mostly pleasant terms, and she even invites me to participate in some events together. As it turns out, I'm becoming an important player in the field, and I work for a powerful organization. She keeps me in the loop because she needs to. I keep her at a safe, but friendly arm's length if you know what I mean. I feel I'm too early in my career to be burning bridges, even if they're with people I'd rather not cross over to see.
But now, I'm not so sure. I got a truly hysterical email from my old boss, claiming financial ruin and begging for money--and that it was, of course, someone else's fault. As it turns out, the someone else is a dear colleague, and I couldn't believe that this was the whole story. More details have come out since then, and I am finding myself more and more upset that she's throwing this person under the bus. I don't know what is true and what is a lie, but she has stooped to an all-time low to benefit herself.
It's tough to be looped into all of this, and be in the midst of the noise of it all. She's blowing up Twitter, Facebook, the Internet with this stuff, and I just want nothing to do with it. Eventually, I decided to write her a short "I'm sorry" email and let it go. But her requests for money kept coming in, and I started to feel badly for her staff whose jobs are on the line. Finally, I sent her a small donation this morning just to have some peace of mind. It's tax-deductible, and it's money I could afford to give.
I feel a little better now. But most of all, I'm saddened by this implosion in our community. There aren't many people doing what we're doing, and to feel it crumbling apart from the inside is truly a sad thing. I'm just thankful I got out of there, and that for now, I have peace in my job.
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.
A Purging Ritual
After a much overdue catch-up session with Katie, complete with jumbo margaritas, I decided it was time to purge my life of all things ex related. I was pretty far along in the process to begin with--I'd gotten it all into a single box, tucked away underneath my bed. But, I hadn't taken that final step of actually getting rid of all of it. So last night, I went through and pitched every card, picture, and memento into a big black garbage bag.
It's not hard for me to understand why I wanted to hang onto that stuff. I'm a very sentimental person. I've kept every birthday card ever given to me. I think that's in part due to being the third child in my family at which point my parents were pretty sick and tired of documenting their kids' every move. There isn't even a picture of me from the day I was born! So, I've taken it upon myself to keep things that are special and hold meaning.
After the break-up, I'd stuffed all of our memories into a boyfriend box and sealed it up just like I had with my exes from high school and college. I thought maybe one day I'd want to show my kids or something. But, that seems kind of ridiculous with this last relationship. It was too deep of a hurt, too disappointing. Why would I ever want to be reminded of that again?
I felt a little tug at my heart as I threw away the best pieces of us, but I know deep down it was the right thing. I know that those few highlights don't represent the real relationship we had--the distrust, the secrets, the dysfunction. Keeping them would have made me question the truth that I know--that he wasn't the right person for me.
I feel lighter.
It's not hard for me to understand why I wanted to hang onto that stuff. I'm a very sentimental person. I've kept every birthday card ever given to me. I think that's in part due to being the third child in my family at which point my parents were pretty sick and tired of documenting their kids' every move. There isn't even a picture of me from the day I was born! So, I've taken it upon myself to keep things that are special and hold meaning.
After the break-up, I'd stuffed all of our memories into a boyfriend box and sealed it up just like I had with my exes from high school and college. I thought maybe one day I'd want to show my kids or something. But, that seems kind of ridiculous with this last relationship. It was too deep of a hurt, too disappointing. Why would I ever want to be reminded of that again?
I felt a little tug at my heart as I threw away the best pieces of us, but I know deep down it was the right thing. I know that those few highlights don't represent the real relationship we had--the distrust, the secrets, the dysfunction. Keeping them would have made me question the truth that I know--that he wasn't the right person for me.
I feel lighter.
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.
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.
Everything is About to Change
This weekend was like a dream. Part of me still wonders if it happened at all. Could it really be this easy? Could I have actually found someone with whom I have a real connection?
I spent four glorious days with my boss L, her husband, and his son. There was some definite build-up and anticipation going into it; L had been talking about this guy for nearly a year, and I felt sheepish about being set up. But, the awkwardness melted as soon as he made me laugh the first time.
I've never laughed so much. And I didn't realize until then how important it is to laugh with someone--and how I never really did that with my ex. It was then that I realized I'd been settling for something less than I deserved. He had brought me down; being with him made me feel less like myself.
Now I feel like I'm floating. I'm scared and excited. But more than anything, I am feeling closer to my real self than I have in months. And I can't wait to see him again.
A Note to the Ex
Seriously? No, seriously? You couldn't even take two seconds to send me an email to say "happy birthday"? You know how important birthdays are to me. And I spent yours with you this year.
I've got to find a way to stop being disappointed by you. I have to take you off the list of people who matter to me. But in the meantime, I have to admit that you've really hurt my feelings. And I still want my things back.
I've got to find a way to stop being disappointed by you. I have to take you off the list of people who matter to me. But in the meantime, I have to admit that you've really hurt my feelings. And I still want my things back.
28
Today's my 28th birthday! So to celebrate, here are 28 awesome things that have happened this year.
1. I met my BFF Katie.
2. I went to California for the first (and second) time.
3. I got to go into the United Nations.
3. I met Geena Davis and made her laugh.
4. I hooked up with a beautiful man at the beach.
5. I got a raise.
6. I moved into a room with a whirlpool tub.
7. I traveled the US with women from Kenya and Sierra Leone.
8. I lost 20 pounds and 2 dress sizes.
9. I took a much needed break from online dating.
10. I spent New Year's with my childhood best friend.
11. I started a women's faith & spirituality group.
12. I turned down a board position I didn't have time for.
13. I joined a new gym and discovered Zumba.
14. I WENT TO MALAWI!!! (Last year on my birthday, I said, "Maybe my job will take me 6000 miles away." I wasn't quite right--it actually took me 7902 miles away!)
15. I discovered Birchbox.
16. I maxed out my IRA contribution.
17. I went to my 5-year college reunion.
18. I bought myself an iMac.
19. I danced on stage at the Kennedy Center.
20. I successfully gave up alcohol for Lent.
21. I got one of my bishops to agree to meet with a member of Congress on women's health matters.
22. I saw the Rocky Mountains for the first time.
23. I published one of my liturgical pieces in a book.
24. I went back to church.
25. I joined a Bocce team and we won our first season!
26. I gave up watching wedding shows.
27. I performed Cee Lo's "F*** You" at karaoke more times than I can count.
28. I learned that I am enough.
1. I met my BFF Katie.
2. I went to California for the first (and second) time.
3. I got to go into the United Nations.
3. I met Geena Davis and made her laugh.
4. I hooked up with a beautiful man at the beach.
5. I got a raise.
6. I moved into a room with a whirlpool tub.
7. I traveled the US with women from Kenya and Sierra Leone.
8. I lost 20 pounds and 2 dress sizes.
9. I took a much needed break from online dating.
10. I spent New Year's with my childhood best friend.
11. I started a women's faith & spirituality group.
12. I turned down a board position I didn't have time for.
13. I joined a new gym and discovered Zumba.
14. I WENT TO MALAWI!!! (Last year on my birthday, I said, "Maybe my job will take me 6000 miles away." I wasn't quite right--it actually took me 7902 miles away!)
15. I discovered Birchbox.
16. I maxed out my IRA contribution.
17. I went to my 5-year college reunion.
18. I bought myself an iMac.
19. I danced on stage at the Kennedy Center.
20. I successfully gave up alcohol for Lent.
21. I got one of my bishops to agree to meet with a member of Congress on women's health matters.
22. I saw the Rocky Mountains for the first time.
23. I published one of my liturgical pieces in a book.
24. I went back to church.
25. I joined a Bocce team and we won our first season!
26. I gave up watching wedding shows.
27. I performed Cee Lo's "F*** You" at karaoke more times than I can count.
28. I learned that I am enough.
(un)Committed
Sitting in the Houston airport after a 36 hour jaunt to California, waiting for our respective connections, my boss and I were discussing my current state of unhappiness as it relates to my ex. I told her how much I hated his lack of honesty in our relationship, and especially how he would act as if he were withholding information in order to protect me. It would usually be along the lines of "I didn't want to upset you." I resented how he used me as his excuse for being cowardly.
She responded with the following: "The problem is that he was never really committed to your relationship."
I simultaneously wanted to slap her and burst into tears. Fortunately, I did neither. But I realized in that moment something much deeper than the hurt of a love lost was going on. What was it about what she had just said that made me react so strongly? What nerve had she touched that in an instant made me feel as if I'd come unraveled?
What she'd said was more or less a factual statement about our relationship. I'd been prepared to stick it out, and SCL walked out when things got hard. He never even tried to work on our problems--and that was his problem. So, why did it feel like a reflection on me that he gave up?
I felt like I wasn't worth fighting for. I wasn't worth the effort of trying. I was dispensable. Traded in for something better. Tossed aside. Forgotten.
As a child, I watched my father walk in and out of my life three different times, the last time for good. I thought that if I could just do or say the right thing, he would realize what a shitty father he'd been and would apologize. I would labor over long letters to him, telling him everything I felt and how he'd wronged me. Never once did he apologize. Never once did he admit that he'd given up. And I was left disappointed.
Kids shouldn't have to earn the love of their parents. They certainly shouldn't have to earn an apology. I never should have felt like I had to convince my father to be a supportive presence in my life. Finally, I just gave up on him. He'd already given up on me years before.
My ex is just the lens through which I have been examining a pain that goes much deeper. It isn't about him; he isn't the root of it. He's still in the forefront of my mind, but in time that will fade, I hope. But the deeper pain won't unless I start admitting it's there.
The Plot
She won't call it a set up, but that's exactly what it is.
The first time my supervisor L talked to me about her stepson was last September. I had just gone through my second break-up with SCL and had begun dating Dr. Nutrition a few weeks earlier. She described him as the funniest person and the best listener she'd ever met. And he was newly single.
When L threw a surprise retirement party for her husband back in December, she'd been sure that the stepson and I had the opportunity to spend some time together. She was right; he was funny. I couldn't tell about the good listener part as we only spent a few minutes together, but I got a good feeling from him. He lives in North Carolina, and when I mentioned I was thinking about moving there, he told me to let him know if I went through with it, and that he'd be my friend.
I pretty much thought was the end of that. I'd eventually decided to stick it out in DC and try to put a new life together there. It wasn't going to do me any good to fantasize about a life in NC, especially not with a man I didn't really know. But then last week on our way to Malawi, L asked if I wanted to come spend the last weekend in June with them while her husband's son was visiting.
Whenever she talks about him, I get this embarrassed grin on my face. I'm flattered that she thinks we'd made a good match. And I absolutely love the idea of potentially being in their family. Obviously that's not enough to constitute a relationship, but it's certainly not a bad place to start. Already having a loving relationship with potential future-in-laws puts me in a better position than I ever was dating SCL, whose parents treated me incredibly unfairly.
Despite all the potential good things that could come of this, there are a lot of potential not-so-good things, too. First of all, it's sort of mixing romance with work. Second, I'm still raw from what happened last week. I'm not sure I'm in the place to give someone new a chance. But after thinking it over (and L assuring me there was no pressure), I decided that it's not that big of a risk. If nothing else, it'll be a weekend of home-cooked meals and peach mojitos. So, what the hell? I got a ticket and we'll see what happens.
One other interesting thing about this guy: I have dated and/or had a crush on every Gospel writer name...except for one. A few years ago, I decided I'd eventually meet a man with the final name and marry him. And the stepson just happens to have that name.
The first time my supervisor L talked to me about her stepson was last September. I had just gone through my second break-up with SCL and had begun dating Dr. Nutrition a few weeks earlier. She described him as the funniest person and the best listener she'd ever met. And he was newly single.
When L threw a surprise retirement party for her husband back in December, she'd been sure that the stepson and I had the opportunity to spend some time together. She was right; he was funny. I couldn't tell about the good listener part as we only spent a few minutes together, but I got a good feeling from him. He lives in North Carolina, and when I mentioned I was thinking about moving there, he told me to let him know if I went through with it, and that he'd be my friend.
I pretty much thought was the end of that. I'd eventually decided to stick it out in DC and try to put a new life together there. It wasn't going to do me any good to fantasize about a life in NC, especially not with a man I didn't really know. But then last week on our way to Malawi, L asked if I wanted to come spend the last weekend in June with them while her husband's son was visiting.
Whenever she talks about him, I get this embarrassed grin on my face. I'm flattered that she thinks we'd made a good match. And I absolutely love the idea of potentially being in their family. Obviously that's not enough to constitute a relationship, but it's certainly not a bad place to start. Already having a loving relationship with potential future-in-laws puts me in a better position than I ever was dating SCL, whose parents treated me incredibly unfairly.
Despite all the potential good things that could come of this, there are a lot of potential not-so-good things, too. First of all, it's sort of mixing romance with work. Second, I'm still raw from what happened last week. I'm not sure I'm in the place to give someone new a chance. But after thinking it over (and L assuring me there was no pressure), I decided that it's not that big of a risk. If nothing else, it'll be a weekend of home-cooked meals and peach mojitos. So, what the hell? I got a ticket and we'll see what happens.
One other interesting thing about this guy: I have dated and/or had a crush on every Gospel writer name...except for one. A few years ago, I decided I'd eventually meet a man with the final name and marry him. And the stepson just happens to have that name.
A Hot Mistake
I've been at Lake Eerie for work the last several days, and like most of the country, it's been hotter than hell. My meetings have been in an open-air auditorium, and I've literally had to peel the back of my shirt from the back of my stadium seat each time I had to stand up to get more water. Despite being a church gathering, I resorted to wearing my least conservative clothes--short shorts and tank top that shows my bra straps--because I just couldn't stand it otherwise.
What about the heat warning made me think taking a nice long run at 5 pm yesterday sounded like a good idea is beyond me. But off I went, into the blazing sun with no water bottle but tons of determination. I ran along the lake for a few miles, getting a few strange looks from people who had only stepped quickly into the heat to get their mail or water their parched lawn. Determined to get in a good workout, I kept on pounding the boiling pavement.
At some point I noticed that I wasn't really sweating...and that I was getting the chills. In 100 degree weather. That started to freak me out, so I slowed my gait down to a light jog and turned around to head back to my hotel. I thought I was hallucinating when I saw a water fountain, but thankfully it didn't disappoint and I drank for several minutes straight, resulting in a serious case of water belly. When I eventually made my way back, I stumbled into my room dizzy, exhausted, and nauseated.
I am stubborn as shit. I can throw myself into a mind-over-matter mentality, no matter how bad the matter is telling me to stop whatever it is I'm doing. And I think the same is true of my relationship with my ex. I was determined to keep running down that path, no matter how much pain or suffering it caused.
Today when I woke up, the heat had broken, and it was a cool, overcast morning. The perfect running weather.
The heat will break. I just have to wait until it does, and then go for it.
What about the heat warning made me think taking a nice long run at 5 pm yesterday sounded like a good idea is beyond me. But off I went, into the blazing sun with no water bottle but tons of determination. I ran along the lake for a few miles, getting a few strange looks from people who had only stepped quickly into the heat to get their mail or water their parched lawn. Determined to get in a good workout, I kept on pounding the boiling pavement.
At some point I noticed that I wasn't really sweating...and that I was getting the chills. In 100 degree weather. That started to freak me out, so I slowed my gait down to a light jog and turned around to head back to my hotel. I thought I was hallucinating when I saw a water fountain, but thankfully it didn't disappoint and I drank for several minutes straight, resulting in a serious case of water belly. When I eventually made my way back, I stumbled into my room dizzy, exhausted, and nauseated.
I am stubborn as shit. I can throw myself into a mind-over-matter mentality, no matter how bad the matter is telling me to stop whatever it is I'm doing. And I think the same is true of my relationship with my ex. I was determined to keep running down that path, no matter how much pain or suffering it caused.
Today when I woke up, the heat had broken, and it was a cool, overcast morning. The perfect running weather.
The heat will break. I just have to wait until it does, and then go for it.
Enough
I think I've ranted about most, if not all, of the things I needed to about running into the ex and his new girl (aka The Obsession). It was the long time comin' final nail in the coffin of our dead relationship. As much as it fucking hurts, there's nowhere to go but forward because I'm sure as hell not staying in the same place.
I'm not sure at what point in our relationship I handed him the keys to my happiness and never asked for them back. But, I want them back. I want it all back.
The inner critic--the little bastard who lives in our head and shouts nasty things to us all day--has been having a fucking field day with this situation. He's been yelling at me non-stop since Thursday night, and basically, I'm ready for him to shut the fuck up. Enough already.
Truth is, I'll never know what went on in my ex's head or what his situation is now or how things could've been different if I'd held back more or asked for less or learned to live in a state of complacency rather than asking for what I wanted. I could spend the rest of my life trying to figure this thing out, but what kind of life would that be?
Is it possible not to take to heart the fact that you weren't what someone else wanted? And not just anyone else, but the person you loved the most? Just who I was wasn't enough for him. Shouldn't that turn me off instead of making me feel like I should have just been someone else? I'm trying to move away from the latter and into the former. Because damn it, I am enough. I can't let his acceptance, or lack thereof, serve as the measuring stick of my worthiness as a human being.
Enough, inner critic. Enough, ex-boyfriend. Enough already. Because I am enough.
I'm not sure at what point in our relationship I handed him the keys to my happiness and never asked for them back. But, I want them back. I want it all back.
The inner critic--the little bastard who lives in our head and shouts nasty things to us all day--has been having a fucking field day with this situation. He's been yelling at me non-stop since Thursday night, and basically, I'm ready for him to shut the fuck up. Enough already.
Truth is, I'll never know what went on in my ex's head or what his situation is now or how things could've been different if I'd held back more or asked for less or learned to live in a state of complacency rather than asking for what I wanted. I could spend the rest of my life trying to figure this thing out, but what kind of life would that be?
Is it possible not to take to heart the fact that you weren't what someone else wanted? And not just anyone else, but the person you loved the most? Just who I was wasn't enough for him. Shouldn't that turn me off instead of making me feel like I should have just been someone else? I'm trying to move away from the latter and into the former. Because damn it, I am enough. I can't let his acceptance, or lack thereof, serve as the measuring stick of my worthiness as a human being.
Enough, inner critic. Enough, ex-boyfriend. Enough already. Because I am enough.
What I Wanted
I wanted to be the one to be move on and have a new partner before he did. It only seemed fair after I'd had my heart broken to be the one to mend first. I threw myself back out there, started dating and even fell for a few of the assholes I encountered. Somehow he can live essentially as a recluse and get a new girlfriend.
I wanted him to be lonely and miserable because of it. Instead I was there for him, letting him string me along as I spoke sugar-coated lies of false hope to myself that maybe now that the circumstances were different, he'd realize that we belonged together.
It's not that I want him back. I don't, at least for the most part. I'm just pissed that he gets the girl, and I get nothing.
What I want now is to forget him, to remove every trace of him from my memory, to extract every dream of a life with him from my mind. To quit torturing myself over him and what I could have done differently, to stop replaying Thursday's confrontation in my head.
I want out of this sinking hole. I want something to start making sense to me. The pain of this will never go away completely, I don't think. But I want something to click for me, something that reinforces that this was never the life I was supposed to live.
I want to meet someone who reassures me that my ex wasn't the best I'd ever get.
I wanted him to be lonely and miserable because of it. Instead I was there for him, letting him string me along as I spoke sugar-coated lies of false hope to myself that maybe now that the circumstances were different, he'd realize that we belonged together.
It's not that I want him back. I don't, at least for the most part. I'm just pissed that he gets the girl, and I get nothing.
What I want now is to forget him, to remove every trace of him from my memory, to extract every dream of a life with him from my mind. To quit torturing myself over him and what I could have done differently, to stop replaying Thursday's confrontation in my head.
I want out of this sinking hole. I want something to start making sense to me. The pain of this will never go away completely, I don't think. But I want something to click for me, something that reinforces that this was never the life I was supposed to live.
I want to meet someone who reassures me that my ex wasn't the best I'd ever get.
Love Advice for Your Mom: Part Deux
Remember when I told you about my mom's high school boyfriend contacted her out of the blue?
Well, apparently they've been talking. A lot. For the past six weeks. You guys, this is HUGE. After my parents' divorce, my mom swore off men for life. And now she's actually kind of excited about a guy? I can't help but feel a little giddy inside.
Of course, she throws in the self-protective statements like, "I know it won't go anywhere" and "I'll never move back to Alabama," but underneath that I can tell she is really enjoying this reconnection. So, I'm just trying to be supportive, listen well, and encourage her to keep the conversation going.
It's strange--when a friend starts talking about a crush, I sometimes check out because I'm still getting over the relative newness (or the acceptance of) my singleness. But the fact that it's my mom, someone who swore she'd never talk to another man, who never thought she could be pursued by someone, who never thought she'd be open to those feelings--it gives me a lot of hope.
I have experimented with dating again. I thought I was ready. I'm not sure I am just yet. I told my therapist that I pretty much get a sick feeling right before all of my dates; I have this deep sense of not wanting to go through with it. She said, "Sweetie, then why are you doing it?"
I'm doing it because I feel like in order to get what I want, I have to try really, really hard--balls to the wall hard. And if I don't date now, I'm never going to get what I want (hello, inner critic with your unhelpful superlative talk). But, if dating is making me unhappy, then why would I do it?
So, knowing that my mom has just been going about her life as a content single woman and she's found connection again--it just gives me hope. It makes me feel ok about focusing on other things. And, it makes me incredibly happy for the woman who's given so much love to me to be on the receiving end for a change.
Well, apparently they've been talking. A lot. For the past six weeks. You guys, this is HUGE. After my parents' divorce, my mom swore off men for life. And now she's actually kind of excited about a guy? I can't help but feel a little giddy inside.
Of course, she throws in the self-protective statements like, "I know it won't go anywhere" and "I'll never move back to Alabama," but underneath that I can tell she is really enjoying this reconnection. So, I'm just trying to be supportive, listen well, and encourage her to keep the conversation going.
It's strange--when a friend starts talking about a crush, I sometimes check out because I'm still getting over the relative newness (or the acceptance of) my singleness. But the fact that it's my mom, someone who swore she'd never talk to another man, who never thought she could be pursued by someone, who never thought she'd be open to those feelings--it gives me a lot of hope.
I have experimented with dating again. I thought I was ready. I'm not sure I am just yet. I told my therapist that I pretty much get a sick feeling right before all of my dates; I have this deep sense of not wanting to go through with it. She said, "Sweetie, then why are you doing it?"
I'm doing it because I feel like in order to get what I want, I have to try really, really hard--balls to the wall hard. And if I don't date now, I'm never going to get what I want (hello, inner critic with your unhelpful superlative talk). But, if dating is making me unhappy, then why would I do it?
So, knowing that my mom has just been going about her life as a content single woman and she's found connection again--it just gives me hope. It makes me feel ok about focusing on other things. And, it makes me incredibly happy for the woman who's given so much love to me to be on the receiving end for a change.
You've Got a Lot of Nerve
So it seems that my job is getting in the way of my blogging. I hate when that happens! I'm off to New York for the week, but before I go, I just had to write about this.
Yesterday I was having a good day. A fantastic day, actually. After a few really rough days of work, I had gotten an invitation to meet with some of the House Foreign Affairs staff. It had gone really well, and I was feeling like maybe I actually have a chance to, I don't know, impact something for real for once. On my walk back to the Metro, I was talking with my colleague when I decided to quickly check my email on my phone.
"What the fuck? Are you fucking kidding me with this shit?" All my lady-likeness and politeness I'd managed to muster up for my Hill meeting had dissipated instantly. Because at the top of my email was this.
"Dr. Nutrition would like to add you to his professional network on LinkedIn."
WHAT. THE. FUCK?!?!?!
Let me refresh your memory. Dr. N and I went out for about two months when he decided just to completely blow me off, even after I'd given him an easy out. It hurt my feelings, pissed me off, but it wasn't the end of the world. Whatever, guys can be dicks about that shit. But then after that, he has the balls to send me a LinkedIn invitation out of nowhere?
Not to hate on LinkedIn, but requests to be added to someone's network are even less personal and more generic than a Facebook friend request. Usually it's something I reserve for people with whom I've worked and with whom I am on good terms. To be clear, Dr. Nutrition and I are not on good terms because he blew me off and hasn't talked to me for 4 months.
So, I respond to his out-of-the-blue request with a one word e-mail. "Seriously?"
I didn't expect him to respond. But within an hour, I got this reply:
"Hi, how have you been? I'm sorry for how things ended between us, but I'd like to maintain a professional relationship...if possible. Since we talked, I became chair of this new organization. I've attached some information and I'd love for you to join. Look it over and let me know if you want to be a member. Have a great weekend! Dr. Nutrition."
ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME WITH THIS BULLSHIT? You blow me off, you don't talk to me for MONTHS, and now you want me to do you a fucking favor? You want me to JOIN your organization?!
There were so many things I wanted to say in response. But, I restrained myself. I simply said, "Best of luck. Sorry, I don't have time for any more commitments. If you want to expand your membership, I recommend contacting this and that person. Best, Me."
Look, Dr. Nutrition. DC is a small fucking town, and you burned a bridge with me--a bridge to fantastic. Had you been decent enough to tell me that things weren't working out, it would've taken me some time, but we could definitely be cordial with one another. But since you didn't have the balls to be honest, I don't owe you a fucking thing.
Yesterday I was having a good day. A fantastic day, actually. After a few really rough days of work, I had gotten an invitation to meet with some of the House Foreign Affairs staff. It had gone really well, and I was feeling like maybe I actually have a chance to, I don't know, impact something for real for once. On my walk back to the Metro, I was talking with my colleague when I decided to quickly check my email on my phone.
"What the fuck? Are you fucking kidding me with this shit?" All my lady-likeness and politeness I'd managed to muster up for my Hill meeting had dissipated instantly. Because at the top of my email was this.
"Dr. Nutrition would like to add you to his professional network on LinkedIn."
WHAT. THE. FUCK?!?!?!
Let me refresh your memory. Dr. N and I went out for about two months when he decided just to completely blow me off, even after I'd given him an easy out. It hurt my feelings, pissed me off, but it wasn't the end of the world. Whatever, guys can be dicks about that shit. But then after that, he has the balls to send me a LinkedIn invitation out of nowhere?
Not to hate on LinkedIn, but requests to be added to someone's network are even less personal and more generic than a Facebook friend request. Usually it's something I reserve for people with whom I've worked and with whom I am on good terms. To be clear, Dr. Nutrition and I are not on good terms because he blew me off and hasn't talked to me for 4 months.
So, I respond to his out-of-the-blue request with a one word e-mail. "Seriously?"
I didn't expect him to respond. But within an hour, I got this reply:
"Hi, how have you been? I'm sorry for how things ended between us, but I'd like to maintain a professional relationship...if possible. Since we talked, I became chair of this new organization. I've attached some information and I'd love for you to join. Look it over and let me know if you want to be a member. Have a great weekend! Dr. Nutrition."
ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME WITH THIS BULLSHIT? You blow me off, you don't talk to me for MONTHS, and now you want me to do you a fucking favor? You want me to JOIN your organization?!
There were so many things I wanted to say in response. But, I restrained myself. I simply said, "Best of luck. Sorry, I don't have time for any more commitments. If you want to expand your membership, I recommend contacting this and that person. Best, Me."
Look, Dr. Nutrition. DC is a small fucking town, and you burned a bridge with me--a bridge to fantastic. Had you been decent enough to tell me that things weren't working out, it would've taken me some time, but we could definitely be cordial with one another. But since you didn't have the balls to be honest, I don't owe you a fucking thing.
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.
They Say It's Your Birthday
Oh, the birthday of an ex. It's a weird day, right? It's difficult, if not impossible, not to think of them. Even without the reminder of Facebook, I would still remember them because for years they were important dates, days I spent planning dinners out, baking (ok, more likely ordering) cakes, and wrapping presents. And it's weird not to wish them a happy birthday. The other 364 days of the year, it seems perfectly acceptable to act as if the person doesn't exist in your world, but on a birthday, it's hard to ignore them. Or, I guess what I mean is on any other day, it really isn't ignoring them, but birthdays are different.
So, when SCL's birthday was on the horizon, naturally I began to think about him and last January 21, 2010. He and I spent the evening at a nice Indian restaurant in Old Town, and later cuddled up on the couch with full glasses of wine and indulgent slices of chocolate cake. I had put together an album of our pictures from St. Lucia, and we looked through them, recalling the the feeling of closeness, of intimacy, of the fun we'd shared there. Even though things between us had probably already begun to deteriorate, it was a good day, which is a dangerous thing when you're looking for a sign of hope that things will finally be fine again.
When I look back at who I was to SCL, I see myself as the one who nurtured him, who looked out for him, who made sure he got out and did fun things because it hardly ever occurred to him that doing so was important. And even now it's hard for me to break out of that mindset. I worried, would he have a lonely day? Who would buy him a cake? Would he go out to dinner? Would anyone besides his mom wish him a happy birthday? Sure, it isn't my responsibility to make sure these things happen, but there's part of me that still cares.
I didn't buy him a gift or even a card. I didn't send his friends a message to remind them of his birthday. I didn't plan a happy hour or a group dinner or make him a Duncan Hines cake. But when he called to see if I wanted to come over for a bit, I said sure. We ordered some pizza (I paid), some beer and ice cream (he paid) and watched Big Love together. It was nothing like last year--there were no kisses or fancy wine or getting dressed up. But, it was good to spend time together, as exes attempting to be friends.
Maybe we'll make the friend thing work after all. .
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)