My loose plan for my blog was to take each month as a new topic and spend the full month meditating on that topic. I wanted to find music and photos that inspire me with that topic. Kind of a big online cork board, like my favorite online past time, Pinterest!!!
August is crazy at my house. Two of my kids started school Aug. 1. The other two don't start until Aug. 19th. Blended families are a lot of fun! We have also had some changes at work, so long ass days roll into long ass sleepless nights. Needless to say I have had tons of blog ideas and none of them have happened, yet. My thought for August was to start where I am, go backwards a bit, and give you a good feel for who I am & what has shaped the making of me.
Play the video linked below while reading the rest of this post. :)
August is crazy at my house. Two of my kids started school Aug. 1. The other two don't start until Aug. 19th. Blended families are a lot of fun! We have also had some changes at work, so long ass days roll into long ass sleepless nights. Needless to say I have had tons of blog ideas and none of them have happened, yet. My thought for August was to start where I am, go backwards a bit, and give you a good feel for who I am & what has shaped the making of me.
Play the video linked below while reading the rest of this post. :)
My "self care" plan for the summer was to get a couple of cheesy, life escaping romance paperbacks to curl up on the weekends or at the pool and escape. I finally picked up such a book and was three quarters of the way through it when I was struck with memories of most of my marriage. I was an avid reader, voracious is more accurate.
I was horribly lonely, that is what I remember most. My ex and I moved far away from my family & friends. I didn't make friends here. I just worked & came home to my husband. We watched movies, tv & read. We each had our own couch to sit on. He would go to bed & I would stay up reading. I would tell myself I wasn't going to stay up all night & finish the book, but far too often I did just that. Fast forward 5 years and we bought our first house and started a family and my ex ended up in a travel 5 days a week job.
I was still horribly lonely in my dream home with my children, still devouring books daily. Escaping.
I do not regret the escaping. MY head is filled with stories & plots & adventures & characters & fabulous fantasy. However, while reading this week, I was reminded that the prevailing theme in the books I read was being rescued. The historical romance; rescue. The thrillers; rescue. The modern romance; rescue. The paranormal thrillers; rescue. The science fantasy; rescue.
It hit me that a part of my soul knew I wasn't happy in my marriage & had a movie running in the back recesses of my mind that played the my happy life movie which involved the man (boy) I held as the one that got away, the one that truly loved & saw me, the one I would be reunited with and I would complete me.
I know I am not alone in having this "one" movie running as my escape. I can't say it was something I was conscious of. It was just always there. We would find each other, fate held us strung together and would bring him back into my life at just the right time. In looking back, that right time was after my kids were grown & out of the house. My job of raising & focusing on them would be done & I could finally be selfish & focus on my happiness. This would be my martyr reward to surviving a marriage that had little laughter, little late night soul sharing, little emotion and far too little touching.
I will try to stay focused as this is not a rant on my unhappiness with my ex, but a realization that I kept a tiny shard of hope in my heart that one day I would know joyous love like I had with my idealized perfect first boyfriend. He actually was a very sweet boy. One of only a small handful of men in my life that were kind. What my moody teenage mind remembers is that he was attentive, engaged in my moody need to endlessly verbalize the shit passing through my brain, romantic, thoughtful, playful and very tender. He was older than me, but didn't push to have sex. He was a really good guy. While he did end up being my first, it was years after we started our friendship. I am blessed to say that my first experience is a sweet memory, again one of a few really sweet experiences I have had with men.
I hadn't realized I was waiting for fate to bring him to rescue me. The feelings I got reading & escaping nourished my hope and made it bearable for me to allow myself to wither. One day, my prince would come and love & cherish me.
The funny thing is when I finally found my prince and made that call, he was shocked at who I had become. He didn't remember me as the "needing to be saved princess type". He seemed to remember this girl who was moody & mouthy & obstinate & confident & strong. This was said in the sweetest southern accent. I found that voice still made butterflies dance in my belly. I had forgotten that there was a time when my friends would have used those words to describe me.
I told him I wished I could tape him describing me so that I could play it for my children, and myself.
Now the next thing that happened was that I realized I was still romanticizing who he was in my head & had no clue who he had become. He had stayed in my hometown, married and started a family. I had held onto this dream that he would be interesting & well read & had followed the same path as me & would love hiking & running & camping & such & I found that in reality he was somebody's husband. He probably doesn't take the trash out soon enough, he probably leaves his shit on every flat surface in the house & he probably hasn't had a soulful conversation with his wife in years. I realized he was flat & running a similar movie waiting to turn the page that would start his next adventure.
It was a very difficult day for me to settle into that bit of reality. Happy ending movies and books lost their luster for me. There wasn't going to be some grand reconnecting of my first love. No sweet story we would tell our grandkid's. Just huge sadness & being left with a gigantic WTF haze.
Picking up this romance paperback this week made me feel good. It felt good & comfortable, like a snugly bathrobe on a cool fall morning. It made me smile for the characters and their silly attempts to not fall in love. Like they ever had a choice. With a few more bottles of wine under my belt and some soulful conversations with my girl friends about the boys that stole our hearts, I am allowing myself to enjoy escaping again.
The movie is no longer playing in my head. I no longer need rescuing. I am the strong, busty & lusty, feisty, heroine with sun light streaked mane, soul piercing eyes, rushing toward the next battle with my sword strapped to my back ready to fight against evil!
I was horribly lonely, that is what I remember most. My ex and I moved far away from my family & friends. I didn't make friends here. I just worked & came home to my husband. We watched movies, tv & read. We each had our own couch to sit on. He would go to bed & I would stay up reading. I would tell myself I wasn't going to stay up all night & finish the book, but far too often I did just that. Fast forward 5 years and we bought our first house and started a family and my ex ended up in a travel 5 days a week job.
I was still horribly lonely in my dream home with my children, still devouring books daily. Escaping.
I do not regret the escaping. MY head is filled with stories & plots & adventures & characters & fabulous fantasy. However, while reading this week, I was reminded that the prevailing theme in the books I read was being rescued. The historical romance; rescue. The thrillers; rescue. The modern romance; rescue. The paranormal thrillers; rescue. The science fantasy; rescue.
It hit me that a part of my soul knew I wasn't happy in my marriage & had a movie running in the back recesses of my mind that played the my happy life movie which involved the man (boy) I held as the one that got away, the one that truly loved & saw me, the one I would be reunited with and I would complete me.
I know I am not alone in having this "one" movie running as my escape. I can't say it was something I was conscious of. It was just always there. We would find each other, fate held us strung together and would bring him back into my life at just the right time. In looking back, that right time was after my kids were grown & out of the house. My job of raising & focusing on them would be done & I could finally be selfish & focus on my happiness. This would be my martyr reward to surviving a marriage that had little laughter, little late night soul sharing, little emotion and far too little touching.
I will try to stay focused as this is not a rant on my unhappiness with my ex, but a realization that I kept a tiny shard of hope in my heart that one day I would know joyous love like I had with my idealized perfect first boyfriend. He actually was a very sweet boy. One of only a small handful of men in my life that were kind. What my moody teenage mind remembers is that he was attentive, engaged in my moody need to endlessly verbalize the shit passing through my brain, romantic, thoughtful, playful and very tender. He was older than me, but didn't push to have sex. He was a really good guy. While he did end up being my first, it was years after we started our friendship. I am blessed to say that my first experience is a sweet memory, again one of a few really sweet experiences I have had with men.
I hadn't realized I was waiting for fate to bring him to rescue me. The feelings I got reading & escaping nourished my hope and made it bearable for me to allow myself to wither. One day, my prince would come and love & cherish me.
The funny thing is when I finally found my prince and made that call, he was shocked at who I had become. He didn't remember me as the "needing to be saved princess type". He seemed to remember this girl who was moody & mouthy & obstinate & confident & strong. This was said in the sweetest southern accent. I found that voice still made butterflies dance in my belly. I had forgotten that there was a time when my friends would have used those words to describe me.
I told him I wished I could tape him describing me so that I could play it for my children, and myself.
Now the next thing that happened was that I realized I was still romanticizing who he was in my head & had no clue who he had become. He had stayed in my hometown, married and started a family. I had held onto this dream that he would be interesting & well read & had followed the same path as me & would love hiking & running & camping & such & I found that in reality he was somebody's husband. He probably doesn't take the trash out soon enough, he probably leaves his shit on every flat surface in the house & he probably hasn't had a soulful conversation with his wife in years. I realized he was flat & running a similar movie waiting to turn the page that would start his next adventure.
It was a very difficult day for me to settle into that bit of reality. Happy ending movies and books lost their luster for me. There wasn't going to be some grand reconnecting of my first love. No sweet story we would tell our grandkid's. Just huge sadness & being left with a gigantic WTF haze.
Picking up this romance paperback this week made me feel good. It felt good & comfortable, like a snugly bathrobe on a cool fall morning. It made me smile for the characters and their silly attempts to not fall in love. Like they ever had a choice. With a few more bottles of wine under my belt and some soulful conversations with my girl friends about the boys that stole our hearts, I am allowing myself to enjoy escaping again.
The movie is no longer playing in my head. I no longer need rescuing. I am the strong, busty & lusty, feisty, heroine with sun light streaked mane, soul piercing eyes, rushing toward the next battle with my sword strapped to my back ready to fight against evil!
