Oh. My. God.

The Marrying Kind

Remember this post I wrote about marriage back in August of 2008? It's okay if you don't, because (pun intended), I do. Realizing that about myself was a huge damn deal for me... but here we are almost 2 years later & I'm still trying to work out what the heck it all means.

One of the things I heard loud and clear at the PAX workshop I attended back in mid-May, is that the number one reason a man will ask a woman to marry him is that he thinks he is the guy who can make her most happy. Not one of the guys, but the guy. If he thinks for even one second that he cannot win at this task (make her happy), he will not expend one ounce of his energy to even ask her. Because remember, for guys, winning and scoring points is kind of the very make up of their DNA. 

Yeah, he may date her indefinitely. He may share a home with her. He may provide for her in small ways financially, emotionally, or physically. He may even have kids with her. But he'll never make her his wife if she's made it abundantly clear that he can't possibly make her happy.

Whoa. That's kind of huge, right?

So that got me to thinking about all the ways in which I convey my UN-happiness -- not just with the men in my life, but with everyone. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I'm never happy, or that I don't express sincere gratitude and joy for all the wonderful things in my life (and believe me people, I totally recognize that there's loads of stuff in my life that's awesome and wonderful and perfect), it's just that I so often have tempered my state of happiness with a backhanded comment or judgment that pretty much negated the very happiness I was trying to convey in the first place.

Again. Whoa.

Note: I really hate it when I peel away another layer from this crazy onion that is me. It's so G-d damned annoying to discover there is more shite I have to look at, work on, discard, and "gah!", keep DIGGING for.

I'm just thinking out loud here. You know, trying to make an observation about my experience... I do know how to have a long-term relationship (my longest being 8 years), so that's not my "problem". However, there clearly is a reason why I've never even lived with a man, let alone been married to one. Right? So it follows that there's gotta be a reason why I've never even been asked to do either of those things.

I don't want to beat myself up about this, nor do I want to have a judgment about the men I dated for years and years who never asked; I just want to notice that there is was a pattern. And now that I've noticed, I'd also like to make the subtle shift and learn to focus on putting the happy back into my happiness.

This has nothing to do with finding or keeping a man. I am no longer worried about my ability to do that. I don't know why I've spent the last 20+ years telling myself that I couldn't trust or be fully honest with men, or why I justified my Supreme Bitchiness, that they somehow deserved it because they were all the enemy, or worse, telling myself that there was something horrifically wrong with ME, and then all the ways in which I proceeded to hide my real self (the soft/mushy/girlie self) from every man that ever crossed my path by being a straight up monster.

WTF was that all about? When did I decide that it wasn't okay to just be a girl &/or to be vulnerable and open? Why not just celebrate all the awesome things that men are, instead of comparing them (or myself) to some ridiculous notion of the Ideal Woman who lives in my head? P.S. the Ideal Woman is a total evil & self-sabotaging bitch and she needs to get the heck out of my damn head.

Men are not hairy women. They're just men. Glorious, innocent, spectacular, perfect.

I honestly don't know anymore if I'll ever get married. The good news is that for today, I'm becoming kind of okay with that. But I'll also admit that someday, I'd at least like to find out what it's like to be the marrying kind.

And that my friends, is 100% on me.

Laying Down My Sword

I attended an amazing 2-day workshop last week here in Seattle (Celebrating Men, Satisfying Women), and I have to tell y'all, it totally changed my life. Like forever.

I have so much more to say about all of this, but I just don't have the words yet. So for now, I just want to say this out loud:

I've laid down my sword.

Not to mention myriad assortment of knives, whips, chains, railroad spikes, sharp tongue, sarcasm, bad attitude, hurt, disappointment, anger, rage, entitlement, etc.

What I've learned is that I cannot possibly have my hands (or my heart) OPEN to all the amazing things that men are (and they are wonderful), let alone be open to the all the amazing things that love can be, if I am clutching these razor-sharp-death-inducing-blades-of-steel.

Just sayin'.

Stay tuned.

Fall Out

Ever had a falling out with someone (neighbor, friend, family member, lover, business associate, etc.) and then find yourself obsessing wondering how the f*ck you'll ever be able to extricate yourself from it? Yet with each apology, or peace offering, you end up sticking your foot even deeper into the proverbial sh*t?

Ever wonder how you be able to say "Hi. How are ya?" with a genuine smile if you happen to run into them on the street, in a cafe, or at the grocery store? Will the dreadful sick-to-my-stomach-I'm-surely-going-to-retch-now feeling that you might see them out & about ever cease? Will there come a point when just hearing about them in passing from a mutual friend or family member stops making you feel like your heart has been violently ripped out of your chest (for the umpteenth time)?

I'm just curious. Because this has kinda sucked enough already.

Yahrzeit

One year since your body quit this earth & your soul flew (hopefully to a place of peace & freedom from all that ailed you)... Nearly three years since this picture was taken. I'm glad I at least have one photo of you with her. I'm also glad there is a teeny glimmer of pride & perhaps even joyful amusement in your eyes.



Your 2nd & 3rd granddaughters arrived. But then mom left. Then you. Then your two children decided not to be brother & sister anymore. Blessings and grief, all intertwined. I'm not sure how I feel about any of this today, except to tell you I think of you (& mom) every single day. Sometimes with tears, often with smiles & laughter.

So, as your daughter, on this day of mourning & remembrance, I light a candle for you. Even if it wasn't always easy for either of us, I loved you dad. And damn, if I don't miss you something awful.

Big Sisters

Thanks mucho to my big sister for calling me at the exact moment I needed her most. And for being honest (yet gentle) with me. I love you!

Ouch.

I do not believe in random chance or coincidence. Sometimes, something happens & it's a benefit to me & my journey in this life. Sometimes, life's hiccups &/or missteps are for the benefit of another person(s).

I know this is all rather cryptic... Suffice to say, I'm feeling a little hurt today. Like I got stabbed in the heart. Or punched in the nose. Maybe I deserved it. Maybe it's "payback"... Or maybe they've forgotten who I am & what my character is. Maybe I've been too nonchalant or too unclear about what it is that I really want.

But I've said my truth out loud. Again. I don't know if they heard me or not. I have no control over what the results will be. So I just keep moving through my days & try not to let it sting too much - or for too long. At some point, I will just stop putting myself in a position to get punched in the first place.

Forgiveness is a powerful thing. Trust/Honesty is another. Love cannot exist without them.

I choose love today. Even if it means I get my nose punched once and awhile. It's worth the "risk"... b/c frankly the alternative is a life of sadness, despair, suspicion, anger, hurt, resentments, and even hate. That's not the life I want. And it's not the example I want to model for my daughter on a daily basis.

Crumbs are just NOT enough anymore. I want the whole kit and caboodle. I'm finally at a place in my life where I'm 110% willing to give the same in return. This is important. I don't want to f*ck the next 1/2 of my life up. Not for my kids sake. And not for mine.

'Nuff said. The End.

----------------

“What untold grief of heart might be relieved by words of cheer and forgiveness. Especially should this lesson be remembered in the training of children, for they so readily respond to the thought of others.” Ernest Holmes 1887 - 1960

At the crossroads I am standing...

What can I say? I'm a glutton for punishment.

Up & Down, Round & Round...

There is NOTHING about being on this Merry-Go-Round that is working for me anymore, but damnit if I don't still keep getting on.

And no, I'm not the only one that's participating in this stupid little game, but what they do just isn't any of my business.

F**k me though, it sucks balls to feel this bad about being yanked into the vortex of a little kids spinning ride. One. More. Time.

I'm doing my level best to NOT jump back on board for one more spin about. It's not easy though. I've had my own personal (& seemingly valid) reasons for holding on to this illusion of normalcy; some habits also just die hard. But I can't do this anymore (whatever *this* is). I thought I could be all cool, easy breezy & unaffected like a man. Turns out I can't. Maybe someday, but not today.

I don't know how to do this. I hate how confused and out of control I feel. So I'm gonna scurry off to see if there is a nice thoroughly terrifying rollercoaster further on down the promenade. Yep, that sounds like an excellent plan!

The End.

You got a head start in the race ...

...but I'm catching up in this little race of ours.

My trainers are laced tight, I'm finding my rhythm, adrenaline has started to kick in, the weight I was carrying as a handicap is lifting from my shoulders bit by bit, and I'm not looking back as often as I was. Soon enough, I'll even start to forget. I just will. And when I do, I'll drop to my knees & thank G-d w/ what is left of my pounding mush ball of a heart b/c this grieving shit is for the f**king birds.

So, awesome. Let's pick up the pace shall we? Why not! There's no reason to drag this out into a Iron Man style marathon.

Keep running 'til you're out of track. Oh, and may the "best" runner win.

'Til Death...

Here's the deal y'all. I want to get married.

There I said it. I've been afraid to say it, to admit it, to even consider the possibility that some day I'll be the girl whose guy gets down on one knee, looks me dead in the eyes and says, "Will you?"... But I do (no pun intended). I want that.

So I'm saying it out loud.

Please also know that I do not envision a white foofy dress or any of the cliché trappings of tradition or conventionality. I've never been one of those gals that has pictured her Perfect Wedding Day since she was little. I always figured we'd elope to some remote location, get married in our barefeet in the sand or on a cool grassy hill... just me, him & the dude officiating the vows (well, and Dex too of course).

I can tell you however that I've definitely pictured "The Guy". In all his tall, dark, green-eyed, tattooed, intelligent, musical, artistic, kind, intuitive, passionate, uber geeky, hotness. Dancing with me, loving me, talking or laughing into the wee hours, until death we do part.

So bring it on G-d. Yeah, yeah. I know I'm not quite ready yet, that I have some things still to iron out. But hey, I'm working on it. My heart space is open. I'm listening. And I'm willing to accept the possibility that the one I wanted wasn't the one you meant for me to have.

The End.

Oh death...

I just found out that my friend Pete's little brother Vincent has died. He was 24. Are you freakin' kidding me?! He was a BABY! How does this happen? How does his family pick up the pieces? G-d, all I can think of is his mom... How do you get over that kind of loss? You NEVER want to outlive your child. No way, no how.

And what the hell, it seems like lately all the people I know & love are being touched by death in some way. It breaks my heart that they are going through this. And b/c of my own personal and recent experience of losing my mom, I know how much it sucks for them & will continue to suck. Not to mention all the stupid shit people will say to them about how their loved one is finally "at peace" or in a "better place" or "with G-d"... How the hell do they know that? And doesn't a comment like that ultimately diminish & discount the LIFE that person had? Who are we to say that it's better where they are now?

Personally, I think it was better when they were here with us. Living their life, whatever life it may have been, loving, laughing, crying, BREATHING and BEING.

Yeah, I believe in G-d. And yeah, I know in my bones that my mom is indeed finally at peace, healthy, with her memory fully restored, and yeah, I feel her presence with me & around me every single day. But damn, I so did NOT want to hear any of that when she first died. I'm sorry, but I didn't. And I know people are at a loss of what to say when someone dies & they see us hurting, so they want to make it better. But I'd rather they'd just said, "Wow. That sucks! Is there anything I can do?" b/c it would have been more helpful to me at the time.

So to my dearest friend Pete (and for Amy, Sheree, Margie, Tran, etc. too)... I love you. Let me know if there is there anything I can do. Right now, in this moment, I am sending love, hugs and healing light your way. By the truck load. Hold on to your family & friends with a fierce intent, they are the ones that will help you get through this. One minute, one hour, one day at a time.

Cheryl ~

Eating Happy©

My BFF & I have begun a new adventure together.
Check it out.
Or not.

But here's to us.
Cowgirl Up!

Today's Quote

One forgives to the degree that one loves.
--La Rochefoucauld

V-Day

You know... the cynical part of me has really disliked this holiday. It seemed contrived and utterly lonely, especially for those who are "unwanted, unloved and alone".

However, today I remembered what it felt like to be a little kid on Valentine's Day. All the little heart shaped cards we would exchange w/ our classmates and our family. The candy hearts and chocolate kisses. The excitement when we got a special heart from a "crush". It was the promise of a day where expressing love was encouraged & celebrated, not scoffed at or made fun of.

I remembered too that when I was young, this day was MY day with my dad. No other dates were allowed. It was OUR day. We'd would go out to dinner, just the two of us. I looked forward to it all year - especially since our relationship has often been combative and contentious.

It was the one day we could hang out, enjoy a meal, talk about whatever (politics, dogs, the weather, crossword puzzles, school, etc.). It was lovely & it was loving. Which is what Valentine's Day should be, and it's what a relationship between Father and Daughter should be.

How ironic then that today, this rainy and gloomy V-Day for 2008, I should be moving my father to a Board & Care facility. I can't take care of him anymore, not by myself. Nor do I want to. It's been stressful and overwhelming and I don't like the angry person I'm becoming. I don't like how I am acting toward my daughter either (this isn't her fault). It's hard enough as it is to take care of her all by myself, but for the past 11 months I've really had TWO children (three if you count the dumb Pomeranian*).

Dad needs more care and attention than I can give without help. My daughter deserves a calm, loving, attentive mother.

I know this is the most loving thing I can do for him. I know that my obligations as a daughter only go as far as me making sure he is okay, safe, warm and taken care... it is NOT however my obligation to personally provide those things.

Even so, it's hard to make the decision.

When we placed my mother into full time care, she wasn't lucid and couldn't "protest". Though it took some time for her to acclimate to her new surroundings, she never gave us a hard time about moving her.

I know Dad will be okay no matter what. So will Dexy & I.

Really, this is only scary for me because I have defined myself as a "caretaker" for over a decade. My role as such is about to change forever. I actually have to consider the possibility that there are other, more important (and more LOVING) ways to define myself. I have to step outside of my "sphere of availability", my comfort zone, the proverbial box I've put myself in and try something completely different.

What I know about doing things different is that my life will get different. There may be some discomfort in that, but I've also learned that change is never a bad thing. Never.

For today, as scary as the impending change may seem, I'm also okay with it. There is no going backwards... only forward. Into the warm sun, a new path, a new experience, a new me.

Happy Valentines Day. To my dad of course. As well to my beautiful baby girl, my BF and to all my friends whom I love and cherish. No more will I think of this day as a contrived farce. It is what I make it. I choose to make it about LOVE. So, bring on the flowers, the cards, the chocolate, the sappy sentiments. It's all good. I welcome it and fully embrace the Girly-ness in me that loves to get a beautiful bouquet of tulips or wildflowers - or a card that simply says, "I love you."

The End.

*See Numero Uno for more about the Pomeranian (aka Evil Toto).