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Even though we are back to seeing each other face-to-face on school days again Kyle and I still message each other often, especially on weekends, and he frequently starts my day with the words “Good morning beautiful”, which is probably the nicest way to start a day, ever… (especially when it comes with a picture of him smiling at me…) Other times he will say things like “Drive safe, beautiful”, “See you at school, beautiful” or even just simply “Hey beautiful”. 

It makes my day! Every. Single. Time. 

Because I feel like I am only pretty because I am kind. If I wasn’t always so “nice” I feel like most folks wouldn’t take the time to see past my average, short, chubby white-girl exterior.

That isn’t WHY I’m kind to everyone, I’m kind because that’s how God made me. I’m driven to love others, it’s who I am and it makes me happy to do so. It is my purpose in life. 

I’ve realised that Kyle is the only man in my entire life who has EVER told me regularly and without prompting that that I’m beautiful. Brothers, father and ex-husband included.

That’s so sad.

It also made me realize that I didn’t tell my children, my two amazing girls, that they are beautiful hardly at all while they were growing up. 

That’s heartbreaking. 

I can’t do anything about the past, I can only try to change the future and encourage and support them in any way I can, and tell them more often that they’re beautiful…

Knowing Kyle has changed my life in some amazing ways. I try to tell him sometimes what he means to me and how much he’s helped me but I’m not sure he really understands. He says I do a lot for him, which I don’t really understand so I guess that makes founders of an exclusive, two-member mutual admiration society, lol. 

Physically I think he’s one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever met. But his heart, that he hides from most people, is breathtaking. 

Kyle’s husband, who came to school today and I got to spend some time with the two of them together, is a fabulous man as well. Soft-spoken, thoughtful, gentle in his words and attitude, a very kind man. I can see why Kyle loves him. They are both so gracious to me – and to my daughter. 

I am starting to feel beautiful because Kyle tells me, over and over, in random bits of conversation, that I am beautiful. It’s an interesting feeling, to think that your own self really, truly is something you’ve never dared to claim before…

I’m trying to be more like that to the people around me, more complementary, more openly loving. I hope you will try to be that way too, maybe we could all just start our days telling everyone “Good morning beautiful”.

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Back on January 1st I married two of my friends in their home, in front of their children and two witnesses.  Today was the big, in front of family and friends ceremony at a historical landmark with the flowers and the white dress and cake and candles…  It was lovely.  Simple, elegant, beautiful and full of love and smiles all around.

I stayed up until 2 am last night researching different wedding ceremonies, vows, ring exchanges and what not, putting them into some semblance of order and storing them on my tablet so that I could read off it for the ceremony.

The bridesmaids were beautiful, all in perfectly matching cerulean blue dresses of different styles and the groomsmen had vivid, matching blue shirts and bow ties.  The groom had nervously handed me his vows before the ceremony to get my opinion and I thought they were great, heartfelt and sincere.  His voice broke a little as he read them to her.

I did all right with the ceremony, there were a few awkward moments when I forgot the papers with the bride’s vows and the couple’s vows to the four children and had to take a few steps to the side to go get them.

I did less all right with the song, it’s a hard song to sing to begin with, Jordan Feliz’s “Beloved”.  So beautiful but it goes very low on the verses and into the perfect range for me (on the raised version of the accompaniment track) for the chorus and the bridge, which are the majority of the song.  The sound system provided was less than stellar and as I practiced with it about an hour before the ceremony was to start I realized that if I sang too loudly into the mike the music cut out… ugh.  I have a very loud voice but not for the lower parts so I wound up using the mike for the verses and turning it off for the remainder of the song.  And I also missed words in several places, being really distracted by the sound system and not having a monitor to hear myself in, lol.  Everybody seemed to love it though and gave me lots of compliments afterwards, which made me feel better.

After the ceremony there was lunch served by a food truck, a little bit of dancing by the bride and groom, the bouquet toss – rigged to be caught by a young girl because apparently she was the only single female there, I had become invisible at that point, lol.  Lots of visiting and then lots of help to clean up and everybody left.

It was beautiful and a wonderful reminder of what love can do in people’s lives.

I cried afterwards, a lot.

Not because it was so beautiful but because I am so alone.

I feel bad letting my friend’s happy moment make me so sad, my own personal guilt trip is telling me I’m so selfish that I can’t even be happy for her, all I can do is focus on myself and my own problems…  And then I am miserable AND embarrassed.

I cry more.

The struggle bus is real and today I was it’s driver.

Why can’t I just be happy for her and trust that God will give me a good relationship when I’m ready – and when he’s ready?

I have Kyle, even though I’ve been in a completely different state for almost a month now he messages me faithfully every single day and sends me a picture of himself.  I (save every picture to look at over and over again) message him as well and send him my picture.  Our friendship has grown more intense? is perhaps the word to use, while I’ve been gone but I’m beginning to realize that hearing every day that he loves me and misses me helps me soooo much but it isn’t enough.  He doesn’t ask me questions.  Like hardly at all.  Occasionally he will but I’ve even asked him to ask me questions and he won’t.

And yes, I fully recognize that Kyle is NOT my boyfriend and I don’t even want him to be but I need more love than even he gives me – and he gives me so much more love than I’ve ever had from any man in my life, more than all the men in my entire life combined actually.  And if his love isn’t enough is there even hope that another man exists who can love me more than Kyle does?  It creates a kind of hopelessness that makes me want to throw every effort into doing whatever it takes to make sure Kyle never stops being my Gay Best Friend, my Cwtch, my Not-Boyfriend Love Of My Life… because if I lose him I lose so very, very much – and yet it is that exact desperate thinking that ruins relationships almost the precise moment you act upon it…  So I balance delicately on a wire, constantly worrying that he will run away screaming if I share one more thing about myself or how I feel about him and yet completely unable to stop myself.  It’s like a train-wreck, my own life’s train-wreck and I can’t look away… But he hasn’t run away screaming yet either and I’ve been more open and honest with him than any other guy I’ve ever known so just maybe this could last forever like a “normal” best friendship…  Please God…

So I’ve learned something about myself… I need questions to feel loved.  Who knew?  Just simple stuff like: “How was your day?” “How did that make you feel?” “What are you doing tomorrow?” “Are you OK?” “Why do you want to know what brand of cigarettes I smoke?”  “What’s your favorite…???”  “What did you eat for dinner?”

I also need answers to feel loved.  When I ask questions, and they don’t get answered then I feel ignored.  I feel like I am “too much” and “overwhelming”.  I feel like – now that I am more myself than I ever have been in my whole 43 years of living – I feel like I love too hard, too deep and too fast.  I drown people, particularly men, with the way I love.  And I’ve never seen anybody love another person the way I love.  And I’m so very weary, I pour out and out and out and get so little in return.

Not because people won’t give in return but because they can’t.  They literally can’t.

In the end, what should have been a joyful day full of happiness and cheer and bright, shiny rainbows and puppy kisses became this introspective dive into a deep, dark misery and hopelessness.  Know how to have a good time, I do… heh, heh…  <rolling my eyes>  I did my best to keep my friend from knowing how I felt and she was so busy with her other friends that I think I succeeded.  She deserves happiness and I’m glad she found it.

First things first, I’m fine now, it was just one bad day and I got over it, yay!  All my bad days are usually exactly one day long, I just don’t get around to blogging the positive turn-around the next day, sorry… Thanks for caring…  😀

I’m not sure that I posted about what I’m actually doing for the month of June – I am back in the town I came from and working for my Vietnamese family/bosses AND living with them, which has been a riot!  Let me see if I can draw a picture for you…

The house is very nice, newer construction, four bedrooms upstairs, one full bathroom upstairs and a half bath downstairs.  The den/office downstairs is also being used as a bedroom.  There are 6 adults living here right now.  The oldest brother, his two sisters, one of them has a boyfriend, a completely unrelated Vietnamese guy and me – the only white girl\person they’ve ever adopted as far as I know.  The master bedroom has it’s own bathroom but only the sisters get to use it.  That means the other 4 adults in the house (myself included) get to share the upstairs bathroom when we need to shower.  My mornings go like this:

At 7:35 am my first alarm goes off and I swipe my phone screen to turn it off.  At 7:45 my second alarm goes off and I have to decide – am I going to turn it off or hit the snooze button for 5 more minutes?  This is largely determined by A) how tired I am and B) if I have heard anybody take a shower yet…  Did I forget to mention that my room is right next to the bathroom?  Why yes, yes it is.  I can hear EVERYTHING a person does in the bathroom, at any hour of the day, unless you turn then fan on and then I can only hear MOSTLY everything, lol.  So I wait to hear the door shut, the shower turn on, then off, then the door open again and feet pattering down the carpeted stairs.  That would be the oldest brother.  I’ve called him Hank here before so I’m going to stick with that.  I wait a few minutes just in case someone else needs to dash into the bathroom now that Hank’s out.  No?  Ok, my turn.  I am in my nightie, clutching my clothes for the day, my towel and my little makeup bag and I slip out of my room into the bathroom.

Just as an FYI, even though I’m (always) a little self-conscious I’m totally safe here.  I could probably run around naked and these sweet boys would turn around and stare at the ceiling while they try to hand me the shirt off their back to cover up with… I’m absolutely not going to do that, it’s just an example but when I am with them I know I am perfectly, completely safe, they’re wonderful people!

Anyway, back to my morning routine.  I do the whole shower, makeup, hair thing and am in and out of there in roughly 15 minutes.  I am seriously the best roommate ever, I have practically mastered the art of invisible living…  I fiddle around in my room until it’s about 8:30 am and then I wander downstairs to see if one of the sisters wants to ride with me.  A couple of times we’ve ridden together but most of the time we drive separately and I’ve found I enjoy the alone time.

That’s a snapshot of my normal morning here.  Three of us from the house work together all day with a few others at the nail shop.  After work sometimes we all go out to eat and other times I go visit my girls, sister or friends and don’t get back to the house until around midnight.  I am never the last one to bed – I don’t know how they do it!  These people work 6 – 7 days a week, 10 hour days M – Sat and 6 hour days on Sundays with very little food or sleep as far as I can tell.  They’re amazing with a little dash of crazy…

When we go out to eat, that’s always fun too.  This trip we’ve gone to two different Chinese buffets and one steak house.  I am never allowed to pay, trust me, I’ve tried.  I can’t pay for myself and I can’t pay for everyone, it is Not Allowed.  As far as I can tell their reasoning seems to be from a mixture of things – they love me, they have adopted me and therefore view me as someone to provide for AND I don’t have a man in my life to look after me and pay for things so they seem to have a double sense of urgency to make sure I’m taken care of, especially when it comes to eating out.

But they do more for me too, before I moved to Montana this family bought me a MK purse with matching wallet, 2 Pandora bracelets with a bunch of charms, a watch, rings, necklaces, earrings, business supplies, clothing, more lunches while working than I can count, a microwave, an all-expense paid trip to Las Vegas… they are such givers!   I estimate that in the two years that I have known them and worked for them the dollar amount of the gifts they have given and money they have spent on me exceeds the amount my ex-husband spent on me in the almost 21 years we were married.  Huh.  And I’m not sleeping with a single one of them.  I’m not even having to fight them off or tell them no, it’s never even been a question.  They have simply adopted me without any strings attached.  The four siblings (the youngest brother lives elsewhere) call me their sister, love me like their sister, take care of me like their sister and tease me like their sister.  We are truly family and they have brought so much healing to my life since I became single, I am very grateful for them!  (And just so you know, I don’t only take and take, I help them as much as I can with everything under the sun.  English, Dr appointments, phone calls, computer work, shopping, communicating with customers and business people/vendors… I do everything I can to make their business and personal lives successful and show them I love them too.)

I am extremely blessed to have so many people who love me, especially this family group.  Honestly, I should never have a single sad, lonely day, I really shouldn’t.  After they’re over I feel bad that I do because I truly have a multitude of people who love me, provide for me and take very good care of me.  I don’t deserve any of them (but I’m not going to send any of them away either…) and will remain forever grateful for each and every one of them.

Now it’s your turn.  Go adopt somebody.  Make a difference in some pale and pasty white girl’s life – the one who has blue and purple hair because she’s going to beauty school… oh wait, that’s me… just go make a difference in somebody – anybody’s – life.  Go do it!  Do it now.  Are you feeling purposeless?  Unloved yourself?  Get your butt off the couch and go care about someone else.  You’ll find love and a purpose all wrapped up together.  Maybe you just need to start small?  So go start complementing people.  Say “You look nice today.”  It’s quick, it’s easy and you’ll be shocked at the smiles you get in return.  It will be like the sun broke through the clouds into your gloomy little heart.  Oh wait, me again… Seriously though, go be nice to other people.  Just do it.  Do it now.

The End.

Even though I am very much loved I am completely alone. Sometimes it just gets to me and I cry, like now… But I chose this. I chose to walk away, to trade being alone inside of a relationship for being alone outside of a relationship. 

The funny thing is, it’s actually hope that kills you. Inside that relationship there was no hope for things to get better and so I survived on duty. You’d be surprised at how much can be done out of duty… Outside that relationship there is hope that maybe someday I won’t be alone but the fear that I am too damaged quashes my hope far too often and self-preservation will probably never let me even date successfully, guaranteeing that love will have to sneak up on me if it’s ever going to work. 

I’ve made great progress though.  (Go me!)  I actually belive the people who hug me and tell me they love me, I believe they mean it. That’s a big step for me. But I’m an all-or-nothing girl, if I love you, I love you. Completely, 100%, do anything for you, love you. And that’s not how those people love me, they have lives that I am a part of but not all of. They can’t love me the same way I love them because they already love somebody else that way. And for those parts I am included in, I am in heaven – but I think some of my people feel like I’m trying to drown them because I am too deep… for the other parts of their lives that I am not invited in to, well, for those parts I am alone, very, very alone. 
But it was my choice. Of the two choices I was left with I’m pretty sure I’d choose it again. 

I took a quick look back over my posts so far this year and realized that I haven’t said much, if anything about Beauty School and it’s become such an important part of my life!  So here’s an overview from the beginning:

I walked into school for the very first time right after I moved to Montana.  A man was at the front desk, (later I learn his name is Rayalf), and he called one of the teachers up (who turned out to be Kammi).  While I’m waiting for Kammi I notice a tall man with blue hair – that was Kyle, who turns out to be my Cwtch…

Kammi takes me back to her office and tells me a little bit about the school, introduces me to the owner, Misty, as “the girl with the nail hours”, assures me I am all set to start with the next class.

The school is much smaller than I expected it to be, in the bigger city I left I used to go to beauty schools all the time to get my hair done and this school is barely a quarter of the size of any of those and yet there’s between 30 and 40 students and three instructors, hmm, this could be interesting…

Fast forward about 3 weeks, I show up to the school and meet my 8 other classmates.  All nice girls and we range in age from 18 to me at 43.  The girl who was in her 30’s dropped out after a couple of months so now it’s just me and the younger ones, lol.  We spent roughly 8 weeks in the back room doing book work and practicing on mannequin heads before we were allowed to move to the front and work on the public.

Just writing this out I realize that none of this is the important part.  The people there, the other students and the instructors are what has made this experience so life-changing for me.

There’s lots of swearing, even from the instructors.  Anything that can be turned into a sexual innuendo is done so with a vengeance and everybody laughs like it’s the funniest thing in the world.  Rayalf, in particular, loves practical jokes and almost everyone affectionately calls each other Bitch or Dude, depending on the mood they’re in.  It’s a circus of chaos and craziness.  But here’s the thing – these people are a family.  They’re real.  In spite of the bickering and the arguing they get along most of the time.  They share their supplies and food with each other.  They listen to each other’s stories,  empathize and hug.  And aside from their moral standards being vastly different than my own they have a much healthier outlook on sex and sexuality than I do.  Granted, probably 99% of all people out there have a healthier view of sex than I do but these people are open and honest about it while at the same time being accepting of me and my beliefs, encouraging me to heal but not pushing me to go outside my moral boundaries.

Some days are hard because I can get overwhelmed with all of the emotions that go on in a building of 30 women and 2 men ranging from 17 – 60.  Even though everyone is always nice to me I can still be affected by the people around me being negative and petty to each other.  I have gone outside and cried many times.  I’ve even gone back on the happy pills because school can be so stressful.  I don’t like being on the happy pills again, I was very proud of myself for having gotten off them but I’m realizing that my body doesn’t handle stress yet the way it should.  It handles stress better than it did when I was married, way better, but it’s still not back to completely healthy… so happy pills it is.  I even stayed home one day as a “mental health” day and it was totally worth it.  I plan to take three days off a month to help preserve my sanity even though it will lengthen my time at school and cost me about $1400 in overages at the end.  Ugh.

In the end though, it is a crazy, insane kind of world and ultimately I love it.  My hair is blue with purple roots and for the first time in my life I have shaped eyebrows and fake eyelashes.  At school I have friends who love me and hug me and care about me and tell me I’m beautiful and that they’re glad I’m there.  I’ve been able to share my past with some of them and they empathize with me and are very supportive.  My favorite teacher, Kammi, just offered to rent me her spare room and be a part of her family, which I think will be lots of fun.

This group of people – this group of unchurched, largely immoral, profanity professionals loves, respects and accepts me more than any other group I’ve ever been a part of and none of them require me to become like them before being willing to give me their love and affection.

Being around these people both destroys me and builds me back up, but they build me up far more often than they make me cry.

I know I am who and where I am supposed to be.  I know I am doing what I am supposed to do.  Sometimes the being and the doing is hard but the knowing, the knowing makes it all worth it.

 

 

Well then, I have been in beauty school for three months now and will have accumulated 500 hours in about 2 weeks, yay!  I was able to start working on real people (instead of just mannequin heads) at 300 hours, which was the beginning of April, and so far have done 2 perms and about 4 haircuts.  It’s been fun and a little overwhelming at the same time, mostly because they don’t really teach the way I learn, so I’m trying to figure out a lot of things on my own that they may or may not have told me already, lol.  But the customers have been nice and so far they’ve all been happy with the way they look when I leave so that’s a big plus.

I’ve made new friends!  Well, I’m friendly with everyone, that’s just who I am, but some people you connect with easier than others and I’ve found someone I’ve “clicked” with.  Kyle is one of the two guys at school, about 10 years younger than me, tall, good looking and while you wouldn’t know by just looking at him he is happily engaged to his boyfriend and they are getting married in July. I would have never expected that out of everyone at school he would be my closest friend at school and yet he is!

Kyle was the one to put the first “fun” color in my hair back in February – magenta pink with black tips which I absolutely loved – and he accidentally got a lot of the pink dye on my forehead and it wouldn’t come off.  He felt really bad and kept apologizing until I finally just grabbed him and gave him a quick hug and told him not to worry about it and that I loved my hair.

I was a little nervous about hugging him but in the last couple of years since I became single I realized that if I’m going to experience any kind of human touch at all I will have to have to initiate most of it so I became a hugger.  I hugged my Asian family and my friends back in the town I came from as much as I could but I don’t have anybody to hug here in Montana – except my folks and for some reason family doesn’t really count for things like this.  So I made a quick decision to give him a hug and was really relieved that he didn’t look upset afterwards.

Fast forward a few weeks to a Really Bad Day.  I was super stressed out, Beauty School, having mostly late teen and early twenty-something girls is FULL of drama, people talking loudly and lots of high emotions flying around all over the place.  Add to that the fact that I’ve been couch-surfing since October and was struggling with a bit of depression again along with trying to adjust to my new life here in Montana and it was just a really bad day.  I made it through school feeling fragile and ready to cry at the drop of a hat.  After school I posted something on Facebook to my friends about please hug everyone you know, often and randomly because you don’t know when someone is having a hard day and most people really don’t get enough physical affection.

The next morning I walked in the back door to school, which opens into the break room.  Everyone goes there first thing in the morning to put their things in their locker, their lunch in the fridge and hang their coats on the hooks so it was full of girls.  Kyle sees me and in front of  God and everybody he wraps me in a giant bear hug.  He held me for much longer than an “normal” hug, let me go and we separated enough for him to see that I was trying not to cry so he pulled me close and hugged me again, long but not quite as long as the first one.

All of the girls at school were staring at us, apparently this is not how he hugs everyone else and he does a fair amount of hugging because he’s a very friendly guy and just about everybody loves him – or is in love with him, ha, ha.  He is also quite handsome, most of the girls would like to sleep with him and tell him so to his face regularly – but besides not being interested in girls he is committed to his partner of 6 years and just laughs.

I wrote him a little note telling him how much I appreciated – and needed – the hug and that I noticed how he helps other students and the teachers, just a little encouraging note that said I was proud of him for being such a nice guy.  I’ve done similar things before and the recipients usually (not always) say thank you and it’s never mentioned again.  Kyle seemed to go around and show just about everyone important to him.  I know for sure that he showed the owner of the school – who told me later what a nice thing I did in writing the note –  and then Kyle told me that he showed it to his boyfriend and it made him cry.

I’ve never had anyone share my notes with other people before, that was pretty cool.  Because of his reaction to my note I’ve written three more to other students and while they each said thank you and really appreciated the notes it didn’t enable a connection between me and that student like it did with me and Kyle.  I don’t know if it was because they were girls or because Kyle and I have just clicked and I don’t connect as well with them… regardless I’m going to keep writing those encouraging notes and try to write one for everyone by the time I’m done with school

Ever since then he hugs me regularly, pretty much daily and sometimes often more than once a day.  I have become the envy of all the girls who swoon over him, which is entirely a new feeling for me that I’m torn between enjoying and feeling bad about, I’ve never been the girl that other girls are jealous of because of a boy!  And Kyle gives the best hugs, ever.  Even when I was married I never got a hug like Kyle’s from my husband.  Kyle hugs me long and tight, he holds on until I start to pull away.  There is absolutely nothing sexual about his hugs and I feel completely safe in his arms.  He talks to me sometimes and shares stories about his past, his childhood, what was going on in his life when he became homosexual, how some of his family reacted and a few other things that I doubt he tells very many other people.  Sometimes when we hug he tells me he loves me and I say I love him back but again, it’s not at all romantic.

I think that maybe he has never had anyone offer him friendship and affection without strings or sexual joking attached so he probably needs the hugs as much as I do.

We’ve even started messaging each other outside of school occasionally and Kyle said he would go to a movie with me.  I asked if his boyfriend would be okay with that and he laughed and said it was cute that I asked.  He says he’s looking for a boyfriend for me but that it will have to be someone super-special.  The feelings I have for Kyle are pretty much the same kind of love that I have for my best friend from high school.  Deeper than family or marital love; a total, unconditional love between friends.  Kyle’s hugs and friendship have changed my life and made every day at school a little brighter and the hard days easier and I hope that I make his hard days easier too.

I found a word, Cwtch.  It’s Welsh and it means:  A hug that feels like a safe haven.  It’s pronounced like “crutch” except without the “r” so say “cutch”.  Kyle is my Cwtch.  I wish everybody had one and he has inspired me to hug even more people because I know I’m not the only one suffering from lack of physical affection, even in my small sphere of influence.

So I’m going to encourage you too – Go Hug People!  Go be somebody’s Cwtch.  You may never know the difference your hug can make, the life you may actually save by reaching out and touching someone, by hugging them with affection regardless of how “good” of friends you are.  People need to be touched so become a hugger!  Hug hello and hug goodbye.  Tell people you love them, it means you care about them and it doesn’t have to mean anything else.  Be a safe haven for people.  The world needs more Cwtch’s.

I want a hand to hold.

Strong hands with long fingers and veins running across the back of the hands and up the arms.

Musical hands that can pluck the strings of my heart.

Working hands connected to muscled arms and broad shoulders that will wrap themselves around me and make me feel safe.

I want a smiling face above me and a kind voice in my ears that encourages and asks me questions.

Feet that will find adventures with me.

A heart that loves others the way I do and loves me more than I can love myself.  A heart that needs to be loved as much as I need to love.

I want to touch skin with my fingertips.

Eyes that see me beautiful even when I’m in the middle of dying my hair.

Lips that will kiss my forehead.

I want a hand to hold.

This is a little embarrassing…  OK, more than just a little…  Here I am, a fabulous shade of 41 and in the course of six weeks or so my heart has experienced the entirety of Junior High School.  I fell madly “in love” – with two different guys that I have occasional contact with –  complete with all the freaky, weepy and totally illogical thoughts and emotions that go along with it.  Crazy, crazy stuff like:

“Does he know how much I love him?”

“I just want to be near him, I don’t care that he doesn’t seem to notice my existence.”

“He is sooooo beautiful.”

“How can I get him to notice me?  I’ll just die if he doesn’t love me back.”

“I wish I could hold his hand… ooohhh, a dance would be better, where do grownups go to dance?”

“His eyes… his smile…  his laugh… <sigh>”

I tell you, it is a miracle that Junior Highers can grow up to become functioning adults at all!  I suspect I’m a little more stable than your average Junior Higher on the downs but the ups are an amazing high that I don’t want to let go of quite yet although I know that if my infatuation were actually to be reciprocated I would be terrified…

Fortunately being 41 and having survived the life I had is good for something!  I’m pretty handy at hiding all those emotions away where they can’t hurt anybody until I can sort them out later – and in my case it’s been decades later.  My counselor says “Maybe you need to experience these things because you didn’t get a chance to work through them as a child” and there might be something to that – the sensations of Being In Love are absolutely delicious, I’ve never had them before.

Seriously, never.

The grown up part of me knows that the insanity will come to an end and hopes it will be sooner rather than later but the newly discovered, child-like part of me wants to stay on this roller coaster for a long, long time and enjoy the ride.

At the very least I’ve spared myself some of that famous Junior High humiliation by refusing to pass notes that say “Check the box if you like me”, eh?

I had never seen any of the Pride and Prejudice movies so my sister introduced me to the one with Kiera Knightly in it.  My heart stirred, the love portrayed between Lizzy and Mr Darcy was so tender.  Is it possible there’s even a single grain of reality in it?  I want to weep at the sweetness of his love for her, and for my own loss at never experiencing it myself, but I dare not.  There’s a song that says “she fears if she cries that first tear the tears will not stop raining down” and that is exactly how I feel.  My best friend from high school tells me that not all men are like my husband and although she has never lied to me before this one is difficult for me to believe.  But oh, to be loved like that and to feel that love for them in return…

When is it OK to say I’ve tried hard enough and move on?

It’s only been a couple of days since my last post and already I’m embarrassed by my little tantrum… <she said sheepishly>

My life is not that bad and I know it.  My husband is working really hard to be Mr Amazing and more and more he actually succeeds.  Our finances are the result of circumstances – and a few bad choices  – but we still have a roof over our heads, food on the table and vehicles to get to work in.  My two best friends are great and lots of people think I’m pretty cool.  There IS a light at the end of the tunnel and I know it’s not a train… but I can’t be the only one who has down days and becomes emotionally unstable for an hour or two, right?

Right.

The trick is to grab your bucket, mop up the floor after your little melt-down and carry on.

And by the way, I was tested last year for being Bi-Polar and my doctor said no, I’m not.

Sooooo…  Moving on.

Starting a new year, for me anyway, always brings the desire to set goals for myself, to change my life and become someone better, someone different.  To be that person I am not but wish I was.  This year isn’t much different except I’ve been so busy with my new job that I haven’t gotten around to it as soon as I normally do.  Gasp!  It’s already January 19th!  But the extra time has actually been a blessing because it allowed me to think back over my blogging for the last couple of years.

This particular blog has only been up for just over a year and oh, what a year it has been!  I had a different one for at least a year before that but I deleted it for a variety of reasons I won’t get into now.  The topics were pretty similar though:  marriage issues, church issues, work issues, depression, feelings, blah, blah, blah…  I like to write but don’t feel like I’m very good at it so my main purpose in blogging is to help me sort out my feelings.  It’s very useful for me to write things down and then go over them again and again until the writing says exactly what I’m feeling and thinking.  It’s actually quite therapeutic for me, creating all these blog entries.  I never go back and re-read them but just getting my thoughts and feelings out in print and editing them over and over again until I’m satisfied my post properly reflects where I’m at is strangely calming and soothing to my soul.  I’m weird, I know.

Thinking about the sorts of things I’ve blogged about over the last couple of years I’ve come to realize that the days of figuring out who I am are over.  I am a lot of things, some of them good and some of them bad but all of them are me – and the list keeps changing.  Slowly I lose some things and gain others but they are still me.  I am… Myself.

So what’s next, now that I’m comfortable with who I am?  Starting this year I want to work on the parts of me that I know are important but are still “in the rough”, things that are jagged and splintered and I want to begin smoothing and polishing them until they fit into my life gracefully, adding beauty and joy to every day.  Things like: I Am Lovable.  I Am Valuable.  I Am Deserving of Good Things Happening To Me.

It’s going to be a long road.  I can almost guarantee you that I will have more emotional break-downs and write more of those awful, nitty-gritty posts about the crazy-ness that is my life but everything I write has been and will be true to the way I’m thinking and feeling in those moments – it is what it is.

My family has been working our way through all six Star Wars movies and at the part where Yoda raises Luke’s ship from the swamp Luke says “I don’t believe it!” Yoda replies “And THAT is why you fail.” It always amazes me how much truth you can find in movie one-liners…  This year, 2014,  is going to be my year of Learning How To Believe.  This year I am going to learn how to believe that God Loves Me and when I can embrace that one, simple truth I will be able to accept all the other truths I want to believe as well:  I Can Be A Good Wife, Mother and Friend.  I Can Make A Difference No Matter Where I Work.  I Am Worth Loving.

That is my goal for this year.  What is it you need to start believing?