Relating in a Relationship

My husband and I have been married 27 years in September. I have lived with him longer then I have ever lived with anyone. Let that soak in...( I say this for me, not necessarily for you, gentle reader). Relationships are hard enough without taking a vow to “Love and Honor as long as you both shall live”. Honestly our vows were nothing like that. We helped define what our vows would be and we were both very happy with them. It’s the fact that now you have this one person that knows you and all your quirks and you know theirs. You work hard to keep each other happy and healthy and even sane.

Over time my relationship with my husband has changed. Not in a bad way, but it has changed. This person that knows me better then anyone has changed too. We are stronger people. We love each other more and at times...kinda hate each other too. No one can annoy you more then someone who knows you well, but decides to say and do the opposite of what your emotional ground rules allow.

I realized this morning that I have reached a point where all the subtle things I say are no longer subtle. I’m actually quite snarky and out right unkind. As I went for my morning walk (my walk is a brain detox and calorie burn event) I replayed my last few words with my hubby before he left for work and I realized what a total bitch I was. I’m not even going to pretend I was right. I was just plain mean! My question to myself was WHY?

You know how when you ask someone something over and over and they don’t do it and you finally yell at them at the top of your lungs? You know at the time you are out of line, but you can’t help it because your so darn angry and the angry doesn’t want to be stuffed inside anymore and it shoots out of you like a bullet. Well, I think this morning was my warning shot with a rubber bullet. It still hurts, but you didn’t kill anyone. Beware HUSBAND! I have all of these feelings stored in my head and heart and they are erupting. It’s not anything like I want to leave my husband, its more about needing some changes and my gentle nudging and verbal elbow jabs seem to go NO where.

We are complicated people. In some ways we are a lot alike and in many ways we are extremely different. Our childhoods are polar opposites. I’m the weird kid with no Dad and an emotionally unavailable Mother. He is the little boy that had 4 other siblings and even though they were not a wealthy family lived the American dream. His Mom actually saved little bits of money (from his Dad’s teachers salary, a great story for another day.) so they could go to Disney world every other year. They would stay in the campground in their camper. I mean come on, in my mind thats amazing!

 It doesn’t really matter after 27 years, but somehow the quirky bits of who we are melding into are tangled up. I have a husband that loves me with all his heart, works hard everyday and tries  so hard to do things that he knows I will love, but he struggles so much with how to communicate with me. Is it possible to figure that out? I know I hurt him today. I saw his eyes change just for a quick second when I shot my emotional rubber bullet at him. That’s how I sent the love of my life off for the day. Wounded and confused. When we know better we do better. I know I made a mistake. I feel sadness just knowing I hurt this person that means so much. 

Relating to someone is not as easy as it seems. There has to be a two way street and you both have to walk it. When one person is in need the other must respond. Relationships require relations its the biggest and most important part of the word! The hard part is getting the other uncooperative related relater to relate on the same level as you. UGH!

I know that an apology is due. I also know that a conversation is due as well. These things will require two people digging deep and listening. Listening is a big part of keeping a relationship happy, healthy and sane.  

Our Bodies Are Our Own

Grandma, Me and Mommy 1962

PLEASE NOTE: this story is difficult to tell and includes details that may upset some. I have decided to share it because I believe the time is right. I know many will disagree with my personal feelings on the end result, but I hope you will respect my Mom’s truth. I have carried this story in my mind most of my life. When I think of it, I see everything as if it was recent. Some stories should be kept personal and private, but this story needs to be told NOW.

I was around 3 to 5 years old and my Mom and I were living with my Grandparents. I still remember everything as if it was yesterday. My Grandma and Granddaddy were on a vacation. It was just my Mom and I at home. I remember wondering where my Mommy was and looking around for her. I knocked on the bathroom door and Mommy told me to go to my room. Since no one was home I was feeling very lonely but I did what my Mommy told me too.

I don’t recall the exact amount of time, but after what felt like years to my little girl self, my Mommy called out for me. She asked me to call her good friend Shirley. I was little, I didn’t really know how to call anybody and I didn’t have any idea what a phone number was. I remember a feeling of worry and being afraid. Since I could not figure anything out, my Mom had to come out of the bathroom and get the phone number for me. I had to call “Miss Shirley” and ask her to come right away. I honestly remember feeling so stressed. I had never dialed a phone, let alone called Miss Shirley and Mommy seemed very upset. Children tend to react the way the adults react and I remember that the stress and worry was causing me great distress. Once I finally dialed the phone and Miss Shirley answered I kept repeating what my Mom had said. Basically it was “please come, I need your help”. Miss Shirley did come and eventually things calmed down. But my little girl heart was changed that day. The innocence that I had when I woke up that morning was diminished.

I remember my Grandparents coming home from their trip and Grandma being angry about a giant blood stain on her living room carpet. I also remember my Grandma literally beating my Mom. This wasn’t the first time I had witnessed Grandma beating my Mom but this time and one other time (and a different story) were horrifying. My Mom tried very hard to clean the spot but eventually my Grandma had to get new carpet.

At some point in my life I remember Mom telling me that she had aborted a baby that day. She shared that she had used a hanger to rid her body of the fetus that was from her boyfriend an (abusive animal) “Joe V”. She had used a HANGER inside her body because she had no options. I would share more about the abusive loser my Mom was with at the time, but this is really about having a Choice.

I have to be honest and tell you that I believe everyone should CHOOSE what happens to their own body. I don’t agree with anyone  (man or woman) deciding for another what they should do or not do with their body. I say this because I watched my own mother suffer for years because of what she did to her body that day. If she had been able to choose, I don’t think this would have been her first choice. I understand that you might not agree with a choice someone else has made or is making. I go through this everyday when I’m out and about and see some of the things people CHOOSE to wear, but it is NONE of my business. I realize that clothing choices are a much less weighty subject then the right for a Woman to decide for herself what she will do with her own body and somehow I feel if this arrow was pointing at a man, they would change their minds real fast.

So thats it, thats my piece of mind for today. If you disagree, I hope we can still be friends and respect each other. I still like you.

(Respectful dialogue is welcome and encouraged in comments)

Life Is what happens while your too down to care

So a little over two years ago I I hit an invisible wall. I pushed away (perhaps ran away) from the person I have always been. I was a person who engaged with others and invited people over, made new friends, volunteered, cleaned my house, grocery shopped, made  meals and even exercised. Oh and I wrote a blog. I tried as hard as I could to stay who I was but it only made things worse. I felt bad, sad, mad all the “ad” words and nothing was fixing it.

I dug an internal shelter in my mind and started burying everything I was. I felt bombarded with self loathing, self doubting, and disliked most things I once enjoyed. I was convinced that it was everything, but what IT was. I went to the doctor and didn’t like what they said, so I went to a different doctor who put me on medication and then I became even more of a different person but I convinced myself I was doing much better. It’s medication, it is suppose to fix you, Right?

Over the last couple months, I have stopped all the meds and ramped up my exercise routine. I have started doing things I haven’t done in so long I’m embarrassed. I cleaned my front kitchen window for the first time in two years. Now I find myself openly joyous at how clean my front window is. “Look, everything outside is so sunny and green!” I’m seriously a little nuts about it, but I don’t care. I feel more like myself than I have in years. I will say some of my past issues have returned. I talk to much, my brain goes nonstop and I make friends with strangers. The making friends with strangers is basically locating someone who at the moment who is in a similar situation or contemplating a similar purchase or just some poor soul that crossed my path and can’t escape.

I know what started the downward spiral, but its not important. What’s important is that when it started I couldn’t fight it. I would just lean in to the feelings of bad, sad, and mad and thats where I lived. It became my place to be. Being depressed is not a funny thing. It’s this cold, dark and moldy place that basically claims you as its own. I couldn’t really talk to my friends or family about it because I just could not coup with people sweetly telling me I was going to be ok. I did NOT want pity and I did not want to be treated differently. That last bit is tough, because I was different and a bit weirdly uncomfortable and snarky. There is no way to bring it up that “I” realize I was a HOT MESS. I just plan to move forward with me, who I am, who I like and who knows ME best.

 I’m back at this blogging thing and I assure you that you will hear from me at least once  a week. The best part is I am GLAD (which is another “ad” word) and that has been missing from my life for too long. Being better doesn’t mean I don’t still have things to work on. I’m still a bit feisty, which may not be a bad thing. I have never been great at sticking up for myself (except with my husband LOL).

Basically my living game is back up and running. It’s been a long road but I don’t regret walking it. It was like walking on a road where the trees block most of the light. Your ok, it is pretty, but it still doesn’t feel ok.  All you really want is more light. That’s where I’m at now. Stretching, doing a little upward dog, downward dog and soaking up spring like a sponge. AHHHH, so good to be a little bit more me again.

(Please don’t be shy to comment, hearing from you will motivate me to annoy you with my writing even more.)

This Girl Is Alright

I recently caused quite a stir within my family when I made a crazy rash decision. I was actually pretty surprised at my families response. I was just minding my own business and drinking my morning coffee when an idea hit me. I mulled the idea over, called my husband to let him know I had a plan and asked for his blessing (even though I knew I was going to go through with my plan no matter what...)

Now please don’t judge me, but I decided to move my furniture around.  My hubby was very cool about the whole moving furniture issue. His only request “Don’t move the furniture by yourself”. Not sure how you move things without moving things, but I agreed anyway. I know what your thinking, but I’m not a bad person. I cant help if I like things to change once in a while. For years I had wanted to swap my living room and dining room and didn’t because the guilt was so strong. Change things? Why? Your family is counting on your sameness to keep things together. If you go changing things, what else could go wrong? 

Soooo, I got to work. I was gonna flip my life on its ear and move furniture. Others have done it and come back from the edge. I’m sure that I can make a change and not up end our lives as we know them. Cue, furniture moving began. Sliding, pushing, pulling and removing no longer needed pieces of furniture. Boom, I was feeling fantastic. Look at me designing a new living space. I sent pictures to my 3 daughters sharing my accomplishment and joy. Yay me!

I was ready to switch things up and so I did. I didn’t cheat on my husband or eat a whole cake all by myself (although it does sound good! The cake I mean...) I just decided to make a few changes to my home. My children all live on their own now and crazy me wants change. Towards the end of this week of change I went with a friend for coffee in this adorable shop that had hilarious tea towels and all sorts of cute items including a lamp that I decided I really wanted. This lamp...which I promptly asked for for Mother’s Day...

https://www.antiquefarmhouse.com/dog-shaped-table-lamp.html?gclid=Cj0KCQjw-tXlBRDWARIsAGYQAmc-XoDg-o04IcXCJqdu5VxmWJzuxxGapW5G07J2lJYGlfgeGtwUgswaAuMiEALw_wcB

(This is not the shop I was at, but this is cheaper and the same lamp!)

....brought on 3 NO’s and an (Are you serious? ) from my 3 daughters. It is important to note that I know it is ridiculous, but it made me laugh and life is short. Laughing is the best medicine. But apparently the joke was on me. As I’m laughing with my friend about this lamp and enjoying a great latte. My children were texting each other wondering if I’m ok. Why is she moving all the furniture? Why the lamp? What’s going on with Mom? The quick answer NOTHING! Mom is perfectly fine, just trying some new things. I think what really got to me was when one the the girls suggested I should find a place to volunteer. Apparently my desire to switch things up at home was a cry for help. 

I love that my girls were worried about me. Thank God they love me and worry about me! How lucky am I? I just don’t want them worrying because I have  decided to do things around the house. Worry about me if I walk into to traffic or forget where I live. Don’t worry because I’m making changes. This is time for me to create and be the person I put off being because I had poured my time in to them. My daughters are all strong independent women and they are and always will be just perfect the way they are. In the end, I changed my mind about the lamp anyway! LOL

So don’t worry about this girl, because

THIS GIRL IS ALRIGHT!

Treasure

My husband and I went on vacation to someplace warm and sunny a while back. It was a wonderful relaxing get away, something that we had not done without our children EVER! That alone was exciting. Our schedule was our own and I guarantee if you try it you will love it. Of course we have waited over 20 years to do it. I have grey hairs from waiting so long. Annnyyyway...one of the things that I found interesting and relaxing to do was search for sea glass and shells that may have washed up on the beach. Sea glass comes from glass items that deteriorate in the water and the little bits and pieces wash up having been tumbled and smoothed in the sand...brown, white and green, and on a lucky day you might find the elusive blue. It was like treasure hunting, finding these pretty pieces and tucking them into my pocket to admire and put in a jar when I got home.

Thinking about these treasures made me also think about my treasures. Bits and pieces of me that have been tumbled and polished over the years and also the pieces of me that have become trapped and don't seem to surface as they once did. These are the treasures that we set aside over time thinking we will come back to them one day.

I want so badly to find away to get back to that part of me. 

I want to focus on the wonder and joy around me but many times get trapped in Facebook scrolling through so many wonderful sayings and stories and then often times horrified and saddened. I spend way to much time flicking my finger on the screen scanning the treasures of others while mine sit dormant. I know I have something in me that is tumbling and polishing its self and I just need to stop and take the time to search for it.

It will not be as easy as walking on the warm sunny beach...(sigh) but somehow I know if I take the time to relax and focus on the calmness and the thrill of the hunt I may even find an elusive shiny something that reminds me that I have treasure left inside me.

The Mean Girl

The Mean Girl

I was raised by a single mother. I spent a good part of my life moving from one place or another and back again. I moved so often I never really had good friends or relationships with other families. Generally I was the odd one. Always being the new kid with acne and no Dad, pretty much made me odd most of the places I moved too. Let’s just say that being bullied was not on anyone’s social awareness radar and name calling and hurtful events ensued. I would share some of the mean things that kids did and said (since when you are bullied, you never forget), but honestly it serves no purpose. The wound is still open and I don’t want to add salt.

After years of being bullied it became part of my inner dialogue. After a while I became my own bully. Looking in the mirror and seeing an ugly girl who was never good enough. No matter how hard I tried to be “good enough”, I failed. I would end up looking in the mirror ridiculing myself or carrying the mean girl bag around with me so if I had a free minute I could find a reason why I was not good enough. It’s really not hard to be your own bully once you have the right tools.

There I was standing in front of the mirror telling myself I am ugly. I dress poorly, I’m fat, no one likes me and cursing the fates for dealing me the acne card. I was uncomfortable in my own skin to the point of not being able to walk in to a restaurant alone for fear someone would see how ugly I am and make me leave. My inner mean girl dialogue reminding me that when people are looking at me all they see is someone that doesn’t measure up. I bullied myself so much that I know I have emotional scars from it. 

I have spent many years working with therapists trying to remove my inner mean girl and learning to believe in myself. I think at this point in my life I am as good as I’m ever going to be to myself. Just as I get there, my aging process decides to put a few reminders on my face and body that I am no spring chicken. Awesome! Now I have a whole new agenda for my personal mean girl to point out, aging. I know I am a mean girl to myself and I know that I am not really the person I think I see in the mirror or imagine I am. That however does not stop me from reaching back to those days of being the odd new fatherless girl with acne. I have to be honest those bully’s from my youth really got there words worth of damage in. 

My point with all this is, we are better than we think we are. If we just give ourselves a break and look around we realize that we are all flawed. Even the mean girls who found such pleasure in hurting someone else just so they felt better about themselves. Now I see that the people that strike out the most at others are the most wounded of us all. That reflection we think we see means nothing. It’s who we are, how we love others and how we do our best to reach out and remind others that there is always someone to take their hand and walk with them through the tough stuff. 

My mean girl has become faint and she is less critical, but she hangs around still. Why give up a good gig when you’ve got it? I’m not sure I will ever be completely done bullying myself, but I have come a long way since the sad days in front of the mirror. Now I have friends that love and support me. A husband that loves me just like I am and reminds me of that often, and finally my 3 daughters who have grown into amazing self sufficient women. So back off mean girl, I’m not all that bad after all!

REDEFINING

Here we are, early spring, birds chirping, sun shining, light hearted and ready for snow to slip away. Spring always seems like it sweeps in to remove the thorn of winter and make things right again. I guess in away, spring is our hero.

The birds are chirping, even on this frost covered crisp morning. I have watched birds flutter about trying to find a place to call home. Their excitement for this new season has ignited my own excitement for the changes ahead. I keep looking out for the fluttering wings and beautiful colors that spring unfolds for us. It is like spring slowly opens her hand and shares her rainbow of color and tosses excitement into the creatures around us. I felt such joy the other day when I saw a cardinal perched on a tree in my backyard. I stood watching the beautiful bird preen and look about for the next place to fly to.

Now I realize I am in my own spring. I have an overflowing agenda in the next couple months. Lots of excitement as my youngest daughter graduates college, my grandson who radiates joy and a zest for life turns one year old and brings an opportunity to see my oldest daughter and share that special time with them. Last but not least, my middle daughter will be getting married. All wonderful exciting events that I am looking forward to.

Eventually I will be back to redefining myself. I am moving out of the season of mothering into the season of being me. I struggle with the thought of focusing on myself. It is not something I have done for sometime and I believe I have lost the ability to look at myself as a priority. I am so use to wanting happiness and a good life for my family that I have tucked myself away in my mothering cloak. I may have to wrestle a bit of myself out from under the cloak. This will be a good time to do a little spring cleaning of my own and discover the treasures of who I am when I am not completely responsible for someone else’s well being. 

I am excited to rediscover myself. Who is this person that I tucked away and does she want the same things or is she ready to switch things up? One thing I know is that I have been a huge slacker with my writing and I miss it terribly. I have wondered if I set it aside so that I could just rest my brain or if I lost faith in myself and the stories I share. Whatever the reason was its time to return and let my words tumble out of my head into my fingers and on to my personal nest.

Nesting my thoughts and bringing them to life are a joy for me. The stories I have written bring me joy and they have made me cry, but each one has a big piece of me hanging out there that I want to share so that someone else feels like they are not alone. Laughing and crying over who we are, where we are and where we want to go makes us better. Each moment of revelation is another twig in our nest as we begin to rebuild ourselves. Sometimes its not about flying away, sometimes its about making a new nest with new ideas, new plans and loving ourselves because...just because, the sun is shining, the birds are chirping and its spring. Exciting, beautiful, sunny, lighthearted spring.