Oh, that's right... I don't have a clue!

I like expectations, structure, order, and schedules.  The unrealistic, black-and-white thinking that I was brought up with is something that I sometimes struggle to slough off.  Sometimes those thoughts cling to me, and I have to rip them out.  And sometimes shit gets tossed upside down, inside out and I can barely think straight at all.

I like to dissect, examine, and discover the reason why something is the way it is.  God, does that exhilarate me.  Conversing in that way stimulates me.  To have conversations about the origins and meanings of words, evolution of cultures, or reasons behind behaviors.  Yes... that can consume me.  I love to study that kind of thing.  But study of a subject and practice of it - yeah... two completely different things.

It was in my early 20's when the "make sure your words and actions are consistent" life lesson really sunk in.  I was living in New Jersey, completely alone and realized that my life was completely mine.  I could do, say, think, whatever the hell I wanted, and discovering the deep peace that comes from choosing and acting on the "right" thing - no matter who was watching.  But, here's the kicker - the "right" thing can be different depending on who and where you are emotionally, and becoming comfortable with that ambiguity.  That last piece I didn't quite figure out until my early 30's.   

These moments of clarity ebb and flow for me.  After returning to Utah, there was a time in my life that I lost everything (externally) that I had worked so hard for, and had to start from the ground up. I was in a tender, weak place.  But, in that moment - I met a strong, independent, solid woman.  She had the most amazing acumen, and after a couple of conversations, we became fast friends.  Through our friendship, she helped me tap into a part of me that I knew was there and had always pulled from, but to be honest, was kind of afraid to identify.  Again... years of study, then she entered my life and helped me have the courage to act on what I knew was deep inside of me.

I am constantly thankful for her influence, because she was able to see past what so many others saw as negative (even me) and she saw only positive.  She never gave up on me, and persistently invited me to join her.  She was relentless, tireless.  I always said no, because, remember... I knew the value of actions and words.  I did not want to commit unless I could commit 100%.  I knew what she wanted and needed from me, and I knew what I could give and I wasn't quite there. 

When I finally felt ready, I accepted her invitations and joined her. I started slowly at first and days turned to weeks, then to months, then to years.  Slowly I got stronger and could see marked improvement and growth in my body, mind and soul.  The friendship that we shared was something I had never experienced before.  It came from a grounded, honest, open person, who knew who she was and had something to offer, and we shared a very deep, trusting, connection.  She took me exactly where I was and accepted me as that, no fucking judgment.  It was honestly so different from any other interpersonal relationship I had up to that point in my life, outside of my family.    

I have always been the kind to see a type and shadow.  It's kind of annoying, especially as I get emotional.  However, that relationship may be the best personal guide I can trust and look to when building an intimate relationship.  She taught me one of the most important lessons: the solution to any challenge I face lies within the skin of the person that owns the challenge. 

At times it feels that my life is just beginning, almost like a novice... so inexperienced and new, especially when it comes to dating.  But, then I turn around and I feel like an old soul... seasoned and weathered.  This puzzles and frustrates me and I am reminded that most of the time, I don't have a clue.

There is a song that describes exactly how I feel when I think about where I am right now; as a single mother, starting to date again. And all of the unique challenges I willingly invite into my life, because I know that I am ready and I am strong enough.  In the song, when it says "Now that I see you", I always think of my Charlotte. 

"All those days watching from the windows.

All those years outside looking in.

All that time never even knowing

Just how blind I've been.

Now I'm here blinking in the starlight.

Now I'm here suddenly I see.

Standing here it's all so clear

I'm where I'm meant to be.

And at last I see the light

And it's like the fog has lifted.

And at last I see the light

And it's like the sky is new.

And it's warm and real and bright

And the world has somehow shifted.

All at once everything looks different

Now that I see you.

All those days chasing down a daydream

All those years living in a blur.

All that time never truly seeing

Things the way they were.

Now (I'm) here shining in the starlight

Now (I'm) here suddenly I know

If (I'm) here it's crystal clear

I'm where I'm meant to go."

What did I hide and why?

All of me doesn't just involve me.

I have described my actions in previous relationship as dedicated, honest, open and that I shared myself with my partner up to a certain point.  It isn't like I was hiding anything or being dishonest. I contributed daily and was transparent.  However, I mostly separated the utmost important, vulnerable and newest part of me from our relationship: Motherhood.  

We started dating in the summer of 2014, right after Charlotte was born.  Even though I was a brand new mother, I was finally in a place in my blessed life where I felt ready to actually have a relationship.  And, as my luck (and cruel irony) would have it that is just when he "arrived".

He was/is a good person, but I expressed before that I felt that his actions demonstrated that he did not choose me or prioritize me. Which, I think is why I was so hesitant to involve my sweet, baby girl.  But, I was a novice at dating a person like this... a "passive" personality.  So, I observed... I waited to see if I was the only person in his life that he treated like that.  And, in the very limited people that he introduced me to, the answer was "yes".  Those other people made the plans, made the invites and did most of the decision making, which was something as we progressed in our relationship I talked with him about and we came to some terms with.  He explained this as part of his personality, and I accepted it, as long as he understood that I was more of a planner.  I had to be, but I needed more from him and I think he felt it. 

During most of the time that we dated I was working two jobs.  He had all his free time in the evening to himself, he could basically do what he wanted, and he did.  We saw each other every other weekend and some times more.  He received the benefits of being in a relationship with the added bonus that his "free" time was fully his because I was at work.  Then, I get a great offer with one job, decide to take it (for a lot of reasons) and start working just one job during the day and we start spending more time together in the evenings. The dynamic started to shift in our relationship.  I am more of a presence, he has less time to himself.  He is required to give more.  Things are becoming more serious.  Those needs of mine are still the same... Perfect storm.

When I came to him at a low point to ask for help, he expressed that all he could see was need.  I can understand, and consider my part in that.  Even if I did need him, I had withheld the vital information of the level I needed him to fulfill, and because of seeing his repeated actions (and lack thereof), doubted his abilities. It was unspoken, but it existed.  I needed him to choose to prioritize me and Charlotte in his life through his words, actions and commitments and to daily, actively contribute to our relationship. Ironically enough, we had this conversation in Charlotte's presence, and I can count on my hand the times that all three of us had spent time together.  

The possible impact of the choices I made have sunk in over the last couple of weeks as I have had some time to process.  And by digging out this self-inflicted bullet, hopefully the wound can have a better chance of healing.

I feel guilt.  And... I am afraid.  How could I have allowed myself to love someone so much that clearly wasn't invested?  What kind of a role model is that to my daughter?  Why did I struggle and ask someone to prioritize me, when I didn't even prioritize myself and my family?  

I try to sit with myself and comfort that girl who is shaking with tears for these terrible mistakes she has made.  I can try to accept the apology, that more recently has come daily.  I am trying to see myself for who I really am - a whole, living, faulted, strong and weak mother... who is fighting like hell to stand on these wobbly legs, and to forgive her.  

I sit across from tortured people each day, and I can see some parts of myself in them.  Their stories are mostly tragic, their souls are defined as tormented, and I can respect their struggle.  I cannot fix it.  I cannot exactly understand it.  But, I can respect where they are, and that their experience is real and I feel it with them.  It reminds me that I am part of a tumultuous, human current that I can surrender myself to.    

Where?

A friend of mine had asked me weeks ago to house/dog sit and care for her elderly father as her and her partner were out of town for a few days.  I have been doing that for the last little bit with Charlotte and Indy in tow. 
Their stunning home is surrounded by walls of trees, a meandering creek in the front yard, and not-so-friendly, mountainous neighbors.  (They've had to build an angled bobwire fence to keep the mountain lions out).  It is an isolated, luxurious property, very different from my everyday.  The convenience and beauty of the forest in your front yard is a luxury I am embracing for sure!  
  Being here has been a vivid reminder to me that it really does not matter where you are, but who you are that creates comfort, happiness and joy.  And, I'm not always talking about a physical dwelling either... however, spending the last couple of days in a mansion have lent themselves to this coherence. 
  I have thought a lot about where I am, where I have been, and where I want to go.  Last weekend I went on a date.  I don't necessarily think I was ready, but I didn't necessarily want to isolate either.  I knew I was hurting, and he knew I was hurting.  I didn't try and hide that from him because I was afraid he couldn't handle it, as I have in the past...  Just show the other person what you think they can handle.  I trusted myself and him, and was honest with both my intentions and capabilities.  It was raw, to say the least.    
  As the night progressed, I eased into our jovial banter, breathed in and out and relaxed into enjoying myself despite the fact that I was also dealing with a broken heart.  I contributed to our evening together and maintained my boundaries and true desires and we shared a connection, which is exactly what I wanted and needed. 
  When all was said and done, and I was driving home I felt as if I was looking down on my life "google earth" style.  Through my tears, I could see that I was in a different place. The behaviors, choices and emotions that came out of me on that first date were 
starkly different than previous first dates, and because of that when I woke up the next morning I felt peaceful and comforted.
  Nothing external will ever compare to my internal workings.  And even though I may not physically see a grand structure that I have built.  Or have any physical "proof" of what is going on inside my head... that doesn't really matter.  If I am fortified and solid, resilient and kind, than maybe I am doing something right?

Emotional Necrosis

Necrosis:  The death of most or all of the cells in an organ or tissue due to disease, injury, or failure of the blood supply.

My time in autopsy and pathology taught me a few things.  It was always fascinating to see inside the human body.  It really is a miracle.  Our bodies can heal themselves, recreate, regenerate, adapt and evolve.  It is a spectacle to see on a cellular level.  The opposite is also true.  The shut down, decomposition and death of a body is also a sacred progression to observe.  

I have paralleled my emotional / mental body with my physical body.  Dr. Lynn Dobias, a brilliant and insightful psych resident I work with coined a phrase "emotional necrosis" in conversation and it really stuck with me.  I am extremely visual, so not only did almost every image of necrotic tissue that I have handled snap back into the forefront of my mind; but I felt a low, visceral, wrenching squeeze beneath my heart.  Those words had literally reached into my chest mid-sentence and stunned me.

I remember sitting with a friend of mine listening to her explain her feelings about feminism, and how she felt it was so unfair how women were treated.  She debated her side well, and when she was finished asked me what I thought. All I could say was "Well, what activist or pro-women groups are you a part of?"  Her expression was shocked, and almost offended.  She seemed to be happy that I was listening to her complaints, and politely extended and invitation to commiserate with her, but when I answered her question with my question, she had that response.  Perhaps she was involved with many groups? Perhaps not. That isn't the point, really.  The point is: what am I contributing to?  What is flowing out of me?  Rather than complaining about something, what am I doing to support the opposite view? Am I responsible for the emotional energy I share?  My emotions and mood can communicate the same as my words can.  Is it supplying what is needed for healthy, mature, meaningful relationships?  Or... is it choking it?  

Necrosis can result from injury.  Reports often read "necrosis of the ____ due to traumatic injury".  The body can handle a lot, but we all have our breaking points.  We are all built differently.  Pain tolerance, sleep patterns, nutrition, genetics all make up the humpty dumpty that is our body.  A similar cosmic soup makes up our souls.  And from what I have experienced, each time I am broken, torn down and destroyed on an emotional level I try to take comfort in the model of the human body.  It is fragile, weak and corruptible, but it also contains genius in its tiny cells to relearn, renew and adapt.

Some necrotic features never regenerate fully, and a scar forms. I am aching and heartbroken, and it is fully possible that I will have an ugly, sensitive scar.  However, discomfort is temporary, and I do not shy away from it.  Never really have.  

It is just not me. 

Helpful wrestle

A dear friend of mine suggested blogging as a way to cope and process through raw feelings.  A different, close friend helped me to master processing physical pain.  (Give me that over emotional distress anyday!)  In matters of the heart, I have come to realize, with me at least- the only way is through it.  In my past I have attempted to numb it out with multiple vices, or just plain ignore it...  But, I have never experienced this level of emotional termoil before, hence - the blogging.  However, I see that as a good thing.  In medicine, we learn that if the pain is different that can be a very good thing.  Our physical bodies are amazing, pain indicates so many things, and can be tool.  The same is true with my emotional body and my emotional pain.  Different is healthy, and I embrace this pain as a guide to direct me to new paths.

When it comes to traditional romantic relationships, I have never really had one.  I have had lots of non-traditional encounters, deep friendships, lasting personal and professional relationships.  But, romantic relationships?  Nope.  Not until this year.  I was finally ready.  I had come to realize and accept myself on some basic and deep levels - and at that particular moment in my life, he appeared. I wasn't interested in him "romantically" right away... but, after spending some time with him, I was intrigued.  I chose to persue a relationship with him and he allowed it to happen which is where I am confused tonight.

When I sit down next to you and you don't move away, does that mean that you want to be there?  When I ask for something and you give it to me, does that mean that you want to?  When you don't hang up, or leave, does that mean that you care?  

Is there a difference from being the active choice or the default when it comes to love and caring? I saw what it looked like when he wanted something.  His active behaviors and choices were clear. It was apparent that he chose what he chose and he wanted what he wanted, and he would do anything to get it, and that resonated with me.  It was a familiar language, but it was never spoken to me, or about me.  Rather, he would speak to me in code, it seemed.  It was never direct.  His emotions were always hidden, unless I directly asked, and even then... I would have to ask the "right" question.  Open, honest and direct communication were my cup of tea, or so I would have liked to think.  I would tell him my thoughts and feelings, up to a certain point.  I mentioned before that because I felt that he was not really choosing me, I could not share all of me.  I wanted to invest, but I wanted a return investment.  Had I trusted myself more, I would have accepted what his actions were telling me, thanked him for his time, and moved on.  

Accepting him and his choices?  There is such liberation in that...  But, that is where it gets hard for me, I guess.
When I looked at him, all I could see was possibility.  I was able to look into his heart and see all of the good...  all that he could be, if he chose to.  What do they call that?  Potential, I guess?  And, it may be possible that I fell in love with that potential?

When I sit there and ask myself, do I want to be with someone that just tolerates me?  Or allows me to be with them?  Or do I want to be with someone that lights up when I am near?  Who actively chooses to help and contribute to our life together?  Who demonstrates his commitment by willingly inviting me into his life, and spending his time with me?  I know what it feels like to love in that way, but I have no idea what it feels like to be loved in that way.  That is the only way I really know how to love... To give my all, it has been a problem.  I am often a doormat and a caregiver.  I want to take care of the person I love.  It is not a bad thing, it is just tricky to learn how to temper it.  How to set boundries...  how to accept other's choices, no matter what my actions or feelings are.  I pushed him to love me the way I wanted him to love me.  I accepted him and loved him for who he was... but wanted him to love me in my way.  He was so sure of what he could give and who he was, that he refused my requests, an admirable quality.  Something I need to learn.   

There is someone out there that will reciprocate the love that I have to give.  Someone who will choose me, as I choose him.  I will love again, and I will gleen experience.  Nothing was done "wrong", and there is no one to "blame".  We are simply different people.  He was so insightful, and could easily see and accept this.  I had a harder time with that.

I am so thankful for my time with him.  He taught me so much.  He was exactly what I needed.  Even though we broke up, I do know that whatever our past actions or future courses... we loved each other.  That was real.  And that helpful wrestle gives me hope.

My choosing

Our relationship.  

I think about how it ended, it was a choice... a blatent, pointed choice.

I think about how it began, it was a choice... a blatent, pointed choice.

Who chose for the relationship to "officially" begin, who chose for the relationship to "officially" end?  Were there moments during the relationship that we mutually came together and chose the same things?  Did we want the same "ending"?  The struggles that consumed me branched from this... choice.  I chose him, but did he ever really choose me back?

We can allow others in, or we can block them.  We can invite, or we can stand back and observe.  I have been in both positions.  I am never comfortable as the observer, being involved and learning as I go has always been were I have felt the most alive.  But, it is also the most vulnerable.  I make the mistakes publically and learn from them in real time.  My body is worn, my heart is torn, my spirit is crushed, and I stand there with my supporters screaming for me to stop, and all I can say is "no... this is where belong".  

I know I tried hard.  I was dedicated, willing, and focused, but I was not open.  I held back because "I choose him, but he doesn't choose me." His actions told me time and time again, over and over that I was not his own choice, but I didn't accept that and worst of all... I blamed him.  

I am so many things, and I am in a constant pattern of growth.  I am not perfect, and I have beat myself up because of it.  As this wonderful person came into my life, I was stretched.  I was taken to the brink many times, and had to ask myself "can I accept this in another person?"  And, I am very sincere and happy to say that I could answer "yes" to all of those questions as they came up, because of what he shared with me about who he was.  As I came to understand him, my heart accepted all of him, and the things that were hard for me became simple.  I loved him more because of what he shared.  His vulnerabilities became the most tender parts that drew me to him.  I think this was able to take place, again, because I chose him.  I actively and decidely chose him.

But, we ended... not because he didn't love me, or because I didn't love him.  But, because I chose him and not me.  And he chose him and not me. 

The terrible heartbreak is two-fold, and I am thankful to realize it.  The first is that I did not allow him this oppourtunity in return.  I might have thought I did, but I knew that he could not handle it - so I held back.  I omitted.  I was not "all of me" to him.  I could see clearly that he did not choose me, but I wanted him to.  So, I tried to coach him to choose me, to teach him how to choose me.  But, he didn't.  So, when I saw that he consistently did not choose me, and as I wanted to give him more of me - I got scared.  I blamed him. 

And secondly... if I had chosen myself in the first place, and been true to myself, there is a real possibilty that he would have accepted me just the way I am.  And, if not - I would still be exactly where I am right now, but with less battle scars.  

My mistakes are my own.  If I cannot live with myself through the hard, shitty, chaotic mess that I sometimes create and sometimes don't, then I sure as hell won't be able to recognize the peace when it happens.  I am sorry that I wasn't true to my feelings, that I blamed others for my own issues, and mostly for not trusting myself.  I have been through some brutal times, I can trust myself. 

So, what do I choose now?  I fucking choose ME.  Because I am the solid choice.  The obvious choice.  The best choice.  

Broken

My life... 

My life.

Am I a participant or a creator, or both?  Am I able to direct a destiny, or passively accept a course?