The Married Leper

I think the funniest thing about being married isn't how it changed my relationship with my husband. It has been incredibly fun so far, but our dynamic has been relatively the same all along. The funniest thing about being married is how it changed my relationship with everyone else in the world.

Maybe it's just me, but I feel this invisible force field around me a lot of the time. It's like I'm not exciting enough for a single girl to want to befriend me, and, whether I were to complain about married life or brag about it, it wouldn't make a difference in how I'm viewed. I would still be the married woman who has that part of her life figured out already. How boring.

Men don't know what to make of me either. If they're in a relationship, then they have a force field, too. So, while we can bond over the fact that we're both married, that's about as exciting as our conversation gets. If they're single, it feels like they think talking to me is a waste of their time.

Edit:

I just reread this after saving it as a draft for eight or nine months, and I've decided to post it. Before I thought maybe I shouldn't say all of that stuff, but, months later, most of it still feels true. Except for the girls part maybe because I have made some fun female friends over the last few months in some classes I've been taking. And I've met a lot of cool guys, too, but it's just funny how the dynamic is... well, different, I guess. Although, now that I think about it, it's probably like that when you're single, too. You probably have a bit of a defense up because you either don't want to seem desperate or vulnerable and/or don't want to lead someone on. So, basically, we all have walls up for one reason or another. Bummer.

Disclaimer

I really need to get to bed, but I just had to say it's been difficult to not delete posts the day after writing them. Every time I'm about to hide a post, I think about the reason I started this blog. I wanted to be more at peace with who I am and not worry so much about being perfect (not that I ever was, so I'm not exactly sure whose expectation I think I'm trying to live up to on that one), so I leave it.

At times, I may sound dramatic, nutty, sullen, obnoxious, pretentious, ridiculous, or all of the above, but I have to start embracing more of who I am. A lot of me is more simple and fun, but there's another side to me that I share here mostly. That's me, too.

Anyway, I apologize that my posts tend to be long-winded streams of consciousness, but that's just what I need to get out right now. I also apologize that the posts have been pretty self-centered so far, and I intend on changing that as time goes on. I also apologize for apologizing way too much.

Let it Flow

"He that can have patience can have what he will."

- Benjamin Franklin

Nothing good can be forced.

The things in my life that have worked out for the best have been the things I demonstrated patience for in order to receive. I always waited to be crazy about someone before dating them. In turn, Kyle showed patience in pursuing me as well. It took time, and I didn't try to rush into anything. Neither of us did.

I love my new job, and I didn't force that either. I had another offer but wanted my current position so badly that I graciously declined that one and waited to hear back from my current employer. I didn't want to call and put on the pressure by letting them know of my other offer because I wanted to let everything flow naturally. It worked out.

When you want something to work out so badly that you find yourself constantly acting on impulse or flat out just trying too hard, then you probably need to either chill out or realize that it may just not be meant to happen. Maybe it would have happened if you had played it a little more cool, but, really, there IS no "would have been." There just is what there is. And we have to deal with it.

There are countless movies about love triangles because no one wants someone who wants them so much. So they like someone else instead. And then that person gets pushed away because they're wanted too much. And so on and so on. That dynamic exists in every type of relationship in life, whether it be at home, work, or school. Or anywhere really. The game of hard-to-get works. It's unfortunate but true.

Why don't we appreciate those who appreciate us? We want nothing more than to be seen by those to whom we seem invisible. Yet we don't want to be admired quite as much as we are by some others throughout our lives. What in the world is wrong with all of us?

I'm a big believer in balance. I lack it for the most part, but I'm constantly striving to achieve it. The thing about balance is that we can only have it for brief moments; the rest of the time, we're barely teetering on the edge and lucky not to have fallen off the balance beam of life just yet.

Do you ever think much about how easy it is to die? And then wonder how you're still here? I drive 60 miles on the freeway every day. I've seen four pretty terrible car accidents near my office in the last three months alone. Kyle has told me stories of calls he's been on with a few different fire stations this past month, and I've just been more aware than ever of how things can drastically change in an instant. This paragraph is getting incredibly morbid, so I apologize. But part of maintaining balance, for me, is realizing how delicate the balance between life and death is, how thin that line is that separates the two.

Anyway, I started writing this because, for the first time in quite a long time, I have felt hurt and rejected by another. Actually, rejection would be easier to get over, I think. I've experienced indifference toward me from a person I was so hoping would want to be a great friend. Not even straight-up indifference actually. Maybe it would be more accurate to call it a mere lack of enthusiasm over getting to know me. It's okay. Understandable. I was trying too hard anyway. I was trying to force it. I over-watered it like I'm pretty sure I did my succulent plant. Which reminds me, who kills a succulent?

So back to the whole balance thing. I've been feeling more physical pain in my heavy chest over the past week or so from being hurt and disappointed emotionally than I have in...hmm, years maybe. But look at what it did. I've been writing more than ever. It made me feel alive again. Not that I didn't feel alive. But I hadn't been inspired.

If I hadn't been so saddened by the situation with this person who would truly think I'm an absolute nut job for caring so much what they think of me and would be surprised to learn this is about them*, then I wouldn't be expressing myself like this. My words would be stale and lack that raw feeling they always used to have. Or that I hope they had.

Wanting something so badly and caring about a new person so much has made me realize that there's still so much in life that I have yet to do. It wasn't that long ago that I told a friend I thought I would be content with all of the good friends I already have for the rest of my life. I love all of my family and friends so much and have known most of my friends for years. I felt fulfilled and couldn't fathom the idea of fitting another person into my life. How silly and selfish that was. I'm glad karma or whatever it may be came along at just the right time to slap me upside the head and make me realize how immature I was to think I don't need to keep getting to know people.

Learning all about new people used to be my absolute favorite thing to do. That's partly why I wanted to be a counselor or psychologist. I wanted to get to know people and their genuine selves that could only be tapped into during life's most difficult times. I wanted to help people feel understood the way that I yearn to be understood.

Maybe all of this is helping me realize I need to go back to school. Maybe I was already on the right path before and strayed for some reason. Maybe I'm the prodigal daughter to my dreams, my calling. Here I am. Please take me back.

*Don't worry, the person I was referring to doesn't have my blog address. If you're reading my blog though, then I think you should know that I already think you're awesome. You are a rare breed, seeing as how there are only about five of you.

Random Thoughts

I yearn for the pulse-racing excitement you feel when you first meet,

The infinite feeling of driving with the windows down,

The humbling experience of standing with water crashing on your feet,

The hunger for the stage, the lights, the penetrating sounds.

I feel it lingering there, my purpose, my calling, if you will,

Fading in and out of my life and mocking me as it disappears,

I'm finally back in touch with these feelings that I feel,

But something has changed, and I blame it on the years.

In Need of Inspiration

Note: I wrote the following years ago, but I felt compelled to post it in light of Sam Davidson's Trust 30 prompt this morning. It's long, but hang in there; I promise it gets better.

so when i'm outside, i'm very inspired to write. when i'm in the library, i'm very inspired to write. when i'm in my car, i'm very inspired to write. when i'm in my room, i have nothing to write about. i like to be out. i like to be in, but i mostly like to be out. i can be out and be alone. i can be in with good company. i can be in and be alone. i can be out with good company. so what is it exactly that makes me inspired to write? seeing suspicious couples kissing in a library study room. hearing strange, spanish songs from the mouths of crazy teens. listening to random bits of conversation. witnessing drunken events and late-night stupors. watching a girl balancing on a curb in heels. being aware of people who clearly know each other clearly avoiding each other...or at least waiting for the exact right moment to acknowledge each other's existence. a good song. an unexpected compliment from an unlikely source. a new friend. a life-enriching conversation. getting lost beyond belief. meeting up with people who evoke feelings of nostalgia. attending family celebrations. staying up much too late. waking up much too early. the golden hour of the setting sun. a romance that has just begun. the leaves of fall upon the ground. a friendship once lost now is found. the rain that dribbles off the rail. countless attempts that only fail. concrete heating up with light. yelps resounding through the night. echo trav'ling down the hall. being up against a wall. trying hard just to be cool. realizing you look a fool. sweatshirts sweaters jackets pants. nothing but a failed romance. mascara wiped off in a storm. hopes ripped up, ideas torn. jeans with holes right on the knees. trying much too hard to please. first true love so far away. keeping others far at bay. pumpkins witches goblins ghosts. you will be the perfect host. innuendo sarcasm. baby sucking mommy's thumb. trick-or-treating, apple bob. eating corn right off the cob. barbecues, tortilla chips. jumping diving doing flips. running slipping falling hard. showing off the perfect scar. trading songs exchanging looks. commenting on favorite books. learning quirks accepting flaws. driving fast and breaking laws. kicking balls over the fence. appreciating the suspense. because the journey's half the fun. we've already half-way won. leaping dancing singing songs. proving right what's proven wrong. drawing pictures belly laughs. kangaroos and big giraffes. toys-r-us and jungle gyms. book of psalms and book of hymns. church on sunday, school the next. sermons leaving one perplexed. pulses quickened heavy breathing. feeling chests as they start heaving. freckles moles and scars alike. walk ride run, pedal a bike. wheels are turning body, mind. intellect is quite a find. even more so, mate for life. but it is possible, said his wife. no more looking, no more tries. no more seeking out the lies. no more sneaking no more peeks. or analyzing week by week. let it go, love will prevail. step one reads, "hey, kid, exhale."

Who Cares?

"Great minds discuss ideas. Average minds discuss events. Small minds discuss people."

- Eleanor Roosevelt

The other day, I posted a link to a story about the passing of the gay marriage bill in New York on my Facebook page. I thought about not doing it. I have a lot of people I love who disagree with my thoughts and feelings on this particular topic, and it was probably unnecessary to post. The last thing I mean to do is put a divide between anyone I love and me. Honestly, I was just surprised that no one else had been posting about it like mad on Facebook, and I thought the news deserved to be shared. I thought about deleting it later so as to avoid any conflict, but my aunt had commented that she was proud of me for posting it.

Tonight, I noticed that someone I am almost certain I was friends with on Facebook is not currently listed as one of my friends. I have a strong feeling this person may have deleted me as a friend once I posted that link. I may very well just be confused; perhaps we were not ever officially friends through Facebook in the first place. I hope that's the case, but I fear that it's not.

I didn't say anything offensive on my post. In fact, I wrote nothing. I merely posted the link to the story. I understand deleting a person if they write things that are personally offensive or call groups names, etc. However, I don't understand deleting someone simply because they have a different viewpoint on something.

Why am I still writing about this, you ask? Well, I suppose I'm writing about this for two reasons. For one, it hurts me that posting that story may have resulted in this person's deleting me as their friend. Secondly, I am troubled by the fact that I let something that insignificant and petty hurt me so much.

I can't believe how often I've let things on Facebook hurt my feelings. One time, an old co-worker played this game on Facebook where you answer yes-or-no questions about people, and he answered "no" to a question asking if he thinks I'm "hot." I really don't care if he thinks I am and certainly don't expect him to, but it hurts that he would answer that. You can skip any questions you don't want to answer, so why would a person answer something hurtful that they know you'll see?

I deleted him as one of my Facebook friends that day. I usually hate having any unresolved issues with anyone in my life, but I felt like his complete disregard for my feelings was the real thing that hurt so much. Why would I want to forgive someone who didn't apologize in the first place? I'm one of those people who would sooner forgive someone than they would even seek forgiveness simply because I want everything to be okay in my world. This was the first time I didn't want to let myself be a doormat.

Still though, I sometimes question whether I was just overreacting and start to get sad that I may have alienated someone and made them dislike me. Why am I so terrified of things not being perfect? Why do I worry so much about any one person's opinion of me? Am I just being self-absorbed?

Again, petty. Such a small, silly thing. So why do I care so much?

All of this makes me realize how difficult it is for me to have people out there who don't like me. I've always been an extreme people-pleaser. As the youngest, I've always tried really hard to impress people and have them think well of me. In turn, I think I'm fairly slow to judge (at least not aloud) and give people many chances. I always prefer to find the good in people and like them rather than point out things I don't like.

All of this makes me realize, though, that there are also times when I say things that are unkind and that, quite frankly, I may not truly even think. I know I'm not perfect and that I can complain or tease or have judgments about other people's actions. However, I often wonder whether I would say half the things I do if I didn't put myself in situations where gossip is growing. I don't know why I ever give in to watering that weed. It has been something I've hated since I was very young. I remember one time in 7th grade when I made an extremely conscious effort to never speak ill of anyone. It was very difficult, but I succeeded for a time. It felt wonderful. Yet, here I am, twice the age I was then, still struggling with the same old thing.

I'm not even writing this because of a specific thing I've done or said recently. It's just more that I was worried at first that I may have done something to offend this person whom I'm worried deleted me because of that post. And it got me thinking how I'd like to be more like I was for that brief period of time 12 years ago so that I'd never have to worry or wonder if I had hurt or offended someone.

It's too bad because sometimes I think I'd be a lot more fun or entertaining if I let myself speak more freely. I'm just always so worried about saying the wrong thing that there is a lot I choose not to say. Hence my starting this blog almost a year ago. I'm getting there, but it's hard to choose what to be genuine about and what to just leave hidden.

If nothing else, writing out this silly stuff has made me feel a little more at ease. Tomorrow is a new day.

The Thing About Blogs

Here's the thing about blogs. You always wake up the next day wondering what in the world possessed you to write something that sounds so pathetically emo the night before. You don't recognize yourself in the words you wrote less than 24 hours ago. And you can delete them.

Today, I'm not going to delete last night's blog. It makes me look silly and dramatic and downright ridiculous, but that is how I felt at the time. It's a part of me.

Hello, Friday. You sure are looking up.

Previous Passions

Things I Thought I Wanted to Be OR Things That I See Other People Doing Successfully and Get Jealous:

1. Actress

2. Singer/Songwriter

3. Writer

4. Motivational Speaker

5. Greeting Card Designer

6. World Traveler (I realize this is not an occupation that typically pays.)

At the moment, #2 is hitting me hard. Why didn't I keep taking piano and guitar lessons? Why? I was afraid. Afraid I wasn't automatically the best. Afraid I didn't have hands that were big enough to be skilled at playing. Afraid I didn't have enough of a range in my voice to wow anyone. Afraid I was already too old to start and have a chance at getting any good before it was too late. Afraid.

Lazy. Too lazy to work through all of my fears and prove myself wrong.

Now I'm just tired. Tired of letting the lazy give way to the fear.

I just want to find my voice, my passion. Where did it go?

Time for bed. Wouldn't want to be late to my 9-5 tomorrow.

Passion. Purpose. I guess I'll find them when I have more time, huh?

No, I'll make time.

Tomorrow.