You're a mean one, Mr Grinch...

As far back as I can remember I've never been much of a fan of Christmas, most holidays actually, but Christmas is the big kahuna of holidays.  It's all of the pressure, cost, calories and time consumption of all the others tied into a 36 hour period (I'm counting Christmas eve too).  We get overly concerned with the "right" gift, the "right" outfit, the "right" meal, it's just got to be "right". There are hours and days of movies, tv specials and music clouding the airways. We have mothers and fathers working themselves to exhaustion with working and shopping and wrapping all in the name of the Season (capital S is intentional).  We debate on tv the "war on Christmas" (IMHO total crap) and there are countless segments on finding the perfect gift and how to find a bargain.  All in the best interests of corporate America and their goal to get all of our money.  Trust me, I'm a great shopper, I love finding bargains but I get overwhelmed by the sales and coupons.  For years now I've vowed not to set foot in a mall from 11/15 to 1/15 except for when Mike and I do our holiday tradition. I have lovely people whom I love buying gifts for, friends, family, nieces, nephews and co-workers. I would never hesitate to not give a gift but I truly hate this time of year. 

Mike and I have had many, many, many discussions about why I don't decorate and why I don't just love it like everyone else.  Let me say one thing first, I jokingly called myself a Grinch for a while but I would never take holiday love away from anyone else. I would not begrudge someone their love of Santa or snowmen or having 10 Christmas trees in their home, that's just not what I want to do or to have around me.  Mike is one of those Christmas guys, he loves the decorations and the lights and I love that he loves it.  This year I really talked to a few people about it, I tried to make myself understand it and I realized that if I was just honest then it made sense.  If I was honest with myself and with those around me I know I'm not alone. I hate the holidays because they are bone crushingly lonely for those of us not coupled up.  This is not a Cathy woe is me WAHHHHHH I need to eat ice cream moment.  This is honesty.  The holidays are made for couples and families.  I am not a couple and I am part of a family but I am not leading my own family.  It's just me.  Trust me, I was very, very well loved this Christmas.  I spent time with all the people I love the most and was welcomed not only into my family but into three others as well.  I had a wonderful time catching up with friends and family. I laughed and I was able to play and, like so many others, eat and drink too much and give up on sleep.  I was able to do all those things.  But I didn't have that special someone to share a look with or roll an eye at a sister in law or cousin. 

I'm not complaining, I don't want to do anything with this other than to share what your sister or brother or nephew may be thinking if they dread the holidays. If your best friend hates everything about Christmas telling her to put up a tree or not be such a Grinch may not be the best way to handle it. Ask why, ask if they are ok.  This can, for some people be so much bigger than just being alone like I am.  For some people the holidays are debilitating. I did some research and all of the articles seem to talk about stress, high expectations, money troubles and family triggers that seem to all come to a head during this time of year. (Back to the concerns with getting things exactly "right".) These triggers seem to hit at the same time when we are overwhelmed and the weather is frightful and then the pressure sets in from everywhere, TV, Movies, family, well meaning friends and even ourselves. Why can't I just be like everyone else? Why can't I listen to Christmas carols? Why can't I want to decorate and shop until I drop?  What is it about me that's broken?  Listen gentle reader (or reader's cousin) there is nothing wrong, nothing at all. We all celebrate differently and hold different things in our hearts. There is no right and wrong way to celebrate the holidays, it's whatever is true for your heart.

Can we please remember in the coming weeks that this is a tough time for everyone around, can we try and be kinder and gentler? Can we try and be more patient and understanding? Can we please just remember that everyone is dealing with their own demons and fighting their own fights? This blog post is a bit scattered like we all are at this time of year, and that's ok too.  Be safe, be kind and be well in the new year.

Risk Worthy Behavior

I've realized in the past week how much I rely on the people in my life whom I truly, completely trust to let me process things out loud.  I've had a rough 2015-I originally typed horrid but that's melodramatic even for me. It's been an emotional sucker punch of a year and it's ending just as painfully as it has been in the past 6 months. 

At least when B left me, he just walked away, there were no hate filled barbs, there was no vile words I'd have to recover from, very little blame, he just vanished. Not so with all the relationships I lost this year, and that's ok too.  Somehow being spoken to like I'm the most vile, disgusting, hated person in the world is easier to recover from than a betrayal by the man you love.  Mind you this latest heartbreak wasn't a romantic relationship, but losing people is just hard all around.  And frankly when B left me it was shocking, the other not so much, I was kinda expecting it.  I mention this to do a mini year in review and to honor the gallons of tears I've shed, the boxes of tissues I've spent and the sleepless nights replaying conversations over and over and over hoping for insight into someone else.  But the conversations I have inside my head don’t yield the same results as actually talking to someone I trust. 

I have a circle of people who I can talk to about what's going on. They know (or know of) all the players and can offer silence, guidance, reassurance or camaraderie with what's going on.  I was talking to a friend at work last week about this latest thing and I realized that I have fallen into the stereotype that goes with women, we talk and talk and talk about things. That made me smile, that I get why we do it, I get why we are so compelled to talk things through. Or at least I get why I do it. I really want to understand why something happened, it's a flaw of mine. I want to get to the why.  And I've learned that's not always possible.

When I was in therapy for the rape and subsequent PTSD I learned that sometimes shitty things just happen, there is no rhyme, no reason, no greater cause. It's just part of being a vulnerable human being. It's part of just existing and with getting your heart broken it's part of being willing to be open and love someone.  The risk that if you do they will let you down, they will betray you, they will go crazy and hate you, it's all a risk with opening your heart. And, to me, it's worth the risk. I don't care how many times I get heart stomped on, I don't care how many tears I cry, ultimately love is worth it.  I don't want to look back and see that I've closed myself off, that I've hidden or apologized for being who I am, that's the ultimate betrayal-denying who I really am.  That's what I really learned in the past few months, I have managed to surround myself with loving, kind, generous, tough, smart, funny, (did I mention loving?), insightful, amazing people.  These people in my tribe know who I really am, they don't see me and fill me with their expectations of who I should be or (more importantly) who I used to be, they take the time to know me, to know my heart. A small shout out seems timely but I don't want to forget anyone so if you think I'm talking about you, I am, and I love you!

So in this journey of healing I've found out more and more about who I am and where I want to go, step by step.  I am truly looking at all forms of fitness here, spiritual, nutritional, physical, emotional and even my career.  I am focused on eating right, working out, sleeping as I need to, writing poetry and journaling and talking to those I love.  And as I'm sitting here, watching some lovely children I realize that this is exactly as it should be, love completely and with your whole heart, it's worth the risk.

Healing tides

There is just something about the ocean, the grandeur, the vastness, the consistency and reliability of the water makes me breathe a little bit easier.  I'm in North Carolina this weekend for my sister's birthday and my youngest brother's college graduation but I'm here for me too. I'm here to let the sand and waves I love so much try and heal some small part of me. Maybe the vast waves crashing all the way from Europe or Africa does it or the tiny pieces of sand that are just shattered shells worn smooth let me see how the small scattered parts of ourselves can come together to make something new if we can just let go a little and breathe and trust. I know I'll never be the same for having loved B or anyone else.  That kind of cellular connection alters who you are. It's like Pandora and her box, once it's opened there's no going back. You are changed. My hope is that it is always for the good and for making me a better, kinder person. Love does that, love makes us our best selves. When that best self, the one you thought would be loved forever is rejected your very foundation can be shattered like that shell that is eventually turned to sand with pieces scattered everywhere. Think about the task of making a shell whole again finding each tiny miniature part again. But what if, instead of finding each exact piece you tried new ones replacing the missing with art and poetry and song.

But that's a hard thing to do too, parts of me are changing with no warning to some people around me and that can be shocking too.  It's hard to stand up for who you are and who you want to be when everyone around is still playing the same old reindeer games. Sometimes it feels like making any change is pushing back against something and someone. But where I am, staying still and not allowing this change won't work for me either. The phrase turn the other cheek pops into my mind. Jesus acknowledged turning the other cheek, we are taught to go the extra mile for someone who hurts us or pray for people instead of resisting. Martin Luther King tells us: darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that. So while I do what is necessary for my self preservation I pray, I send love into the universe and I let the ocean move around me, softening my edges.

Mrs Watkins

It was an interesting weekend spent out of town at the Big 10 Championship. As always, Mike and I had a great time hanging out, laughing, wandering around and playing but something strange happened. We were staying with a colleague of Mike's in Indianapolis, whom I've only met once, and he thought I was Mike's wife.  It's jarring to be referred to by a name I only borrowed briefly in the late 90's and haven't used in years. Rather than try to explain our history and this delicate complex relationship after our divorce that even we don't understand, we went along with it.  Trust me, if you have seen us together you'd think we were still married, and even today have far too many people tell us we should consider re-marrying. Let me go on record as saying we were terrible married and it just doesn't work for us, we love each other but we are not couple material, we need separate relationships and addresses. But it was odd to be introduced to this wonderful couple's grandson as Mrs Watkins and to be asked about our courtship and our wedding.  It's funny to think how much has really changed for us, not just as a couple but as individuals.

I've thought a lot this weekend about who I used to be, what I used to be.  As I've moved through each year I always think ok this must be who I am now, I'm comfortable with me and this is it, this is who I am. And to a small degree I'm right, but I think if I met me from the Mrs. Watkins days I wouldn't recognize her and I know she wouldn't know me. On our drive today we talked a lot about who we were when we were married and what we did.  I know that I stepped up and took care of everything and he let me do it. That's what I did, that's what I do, I take care of things.

I do this in relationships, I take care of things, of people. I've done it in all my relationships and Mike called me out on it again this weekend.  Partly it's I want to take care of the people I love, but in relationships I feel a bit like I'm begging to be loved.  I read a post this weekend from Purple Clover (http://www.purpleclover.com/relationships/5304-no-good-deed/#) that I cannot stop thinking about. I can see exactly what this woman did, it makes total sense to me to act like she did, to take those extraordinary measures to save a man who didn't want to be saved.  I kept thinking about how I do this, I try to save the men in my life who should be capable of saving themselves (*disclaimer, Mike is awesome and does not need nor did he need saving by me or anyone else*). 

It's an interesting and painful read, the key for me now is that I recognize it. Actually when it got pointed out to me by Andy Myers, it rang true then too.  But the new path, the new way is how can I be different next time? How can I change so that when Mr Wonderful comes knocking he will actually deserve me and I won't have to feel like I have to prove I'm worthy of love.  This ties to what happened to B too, he needed saving-he actually thanked me for that at one point, and I'm starting to see, I mean REALLY see that the issue in our relationship is actually his.  I helped with what he needed and once he felt whole again and was done using me he found someone else.  It happened with D and it happened with K and R as a matter of fact.  I "fix" and they move on to someone else, I can't help it, I'm a fixer, I'm a planner.  

I'm know this weekend and the brush with Mrs Watkins will stay with me this week and how much I hve changed, and how much I still want to do better-for me.  It was a great big bright light shined into a corner of my life I try not to acknowledge let alone feel. I'm not ready to put it totally into words yet, the wound is still too raw but someday, someday.