This morning, I had a conversation with a friend of mine that bothered me. I called to invite him to a bbq that I'm having on memorial day, and he asked me if he could bring along a woman that he's recently started dating. Under normal circumstances I would have no problem with this at all, however before he started dating the new girl, he was hooking up with one of my best friends.
She still really likes him, she has no idea he is dating someone new.
Obviously, I'd prefer if he didn't bring along the new girl. I'd rather spare my other friend the drama and awkwardness, and just enjoy the afternoon. And let's be real, he's only been on about 3 dates with the new girl, so it's not the end of the world if he spends an afternoon without her.
Or so I thought...
He's not coming to the bbq if he can't bring her.
3 dates!!! I'm sorry, but that is insanity. Did I tell him that? Of course I did. And now he's mad at me. He's already decided to pick the potential girlfriend that he's just met over me, someone who has been once of his best friends for 7 years.
I understand why he wants to spend time with this new girl, I really do. I understand that relationships are built on the fact that two people love being around each other, and would prefer each other's company to anyone else's.
But what I can't understand is signing over your independence and your ability to do things on your own. I've watched my friend do this in every relationship he's been in...and when they are over, he has given his entire self -- including his interests, hobbies, and free time...and he is left with nothing. At times, he's even lost friends.
I can do things without my boyfriend. He doesn't always accompany me to social engagements, and I attend at time when he is not invited. And even though I always keep him in my mind, I still work hard to maintain some independence.
I think there's something comforting in knowing that if I found myself alone tomorrow...I'd still have a life, and I would still have myself. And although I've made some sacrifices, I never gave it all away.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
Blogging....
I've wanted to keep a blog for a long time. I've spent many hours reading other people's blogs and commenting on them. At first I was surprised at how often I could relate to strangers. I couldn't believe how many amazing writers are out there. To me, amazing writers are people with the ability to express how they feel, and the things that they experience in an intimate way.
I've been writing for myself for a long time. I've started this blog because I want to join the community, I want to take part in the discussion. I wonder if you can relate to what I experience, if you can relate to how I feel.
So I guess we'll see.
If you happen to stumble across my blog....I'm wondering what inspired you to start writing? What made you want to share your life with people that you don't know? Do you share everything, or do you edit yourself? What inspires you to write?
Lots of questions, I know....but I'm curious ;)
I've been writing for myself for a long time. I've started this blog because I want to join the community, I want to take part in the discussion. I wonder if you can relate to what I experience, if you can relate to how I feel.
So I guess we'll see.
If you happen to stumble across my blog....I'm wondering what inspired you to start writing? What made you want to share your life with people that you don't know? Do you share everything, or do you edit yourself? What inspires you to write?
Lots of questions, I know....but I'm curious ;)
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
Learning How To Sail My Ship
In the summer before my junior year of college my parents realized, after 30 years of marriage that they were no longer in love with each other. I think my mother wondered if she was ever in love. I was home from school for the summer, and I watched how this realization effected both of them. I watched my mother cry everyday, and watched my father scramble to try and fix it. I saw how much they cared about each other. I thought about what it must feel like to be wrong about love, to think it was the right thing for 30 years, and then to wake up one day and realize it was wrong. I wondered if they felt like they had wasted half of their lives, and I wondered how it must feel to have to move on. I spent the entire summer thinking, wondering, worrying, and crying.
When I returned to school, I realized that I wasn't feeling well. Ever. I felt like throwing up all the time, and sometimes I actually did. My adrenaline would rush for no reason at strange times...at the bar with friends, during class, and would wake me when I tried to sleep. I became completely irrational, convinced that I was dying of a strange disease.
I stopped doing anything. I stopped getting out of bed. I stopped taking showers. I fell behind in my work and I cried all day. My roomates took walks with me at night because fresh air made me feel a little less sick. I watched sitcoms and stopped eating. I called my mother crying everyday. After months of this, my mother told me I needed counseling, and that until I helped myself she wouldn't listen to me cry anymore. She said that she had no respect for people who refused to help themselves.
The next afternoon I walked alone to the counseling center. I cried while I walked. I felt so afraid that I would never feel like myself again, that I would spend the rest of my life so sick. The counselor I spoke to told me I was having anxiety attacks. We talked about my parents. We talked about my life as a suitcase that was over packed, I just didn't have room for anything else. It was time to unload. And piece by piece, I unloaded.
Over the next few months I learned about getting control over my life, over my anxiety. I learned that taking medicine was not "giving up." I learned that I couldn't control everything. I tried to learn that I needed to go easier on myself. To let the anxiety come, and understand why, to understand that it was ok. I learned that it's ok to be mad at my family. That I was afraid of making the same mistakes. Slowly but surely, I got my life back. I owe my life to the man in the counseling center. I'm still learning.
A few months later, I was walking through a card store and I found blank card that simply read, "I am not afraid of storms...for I am learning how to sail my ship."
I put the card in a frame. It still sits next to my bed.
I'm never going to be perfect, and I will try not to be afraid, and I know that a storm will come....
But I've gotten a little bit better at sailing my ship, and I learn more everyday.
When I returned to school, I realized that I wasn't feeling well. Ever. I felt like throwing up all the time, and sometimes I actually did. My adrenaline would rush for no reason at strange times...at the bar with friends, during class, and would wake me when I tried to sleep. I became completely irrational, convinced that I was dying of a strange disease.
I stopped doing anything. I stopped getting out of bed. I stopped taking showers. I fell behind in my work and I cried all day. My roomates took walks with me at night because fresh air made me feel a little less sick. I watched sitcoms and stopped eating. I called my mother crying everyday. After months of this, my mother told me I needed counseling, and that until I helped myself she wouldn't listen to me cry anymore. She said that she had no respect for people who refused to help themselves.
The next afternoon I walked alone to the counseling center. I cried while I walked. I felt so afraid that I would never feel like myself again, that I would spend the rest of my life so sick. The counselor I spoke to told me I was having anxiety attacks. We talked about my parents. We talked about my life as a suitcase that was over packed, I just didn't have room for anything else. It was time to unload. And piece by piece, I unloaded.
Over the next few months I learned about getting control over my life, over my anxiety. I learned that taking medicine was not "giving up." I learned that I couldn't control everything. I tried to learn that I needed to go easier on myself. To let the anxiety come, and understand why, to understand that it was ok. I learned that it's ok to be mad at my family. That I was afraid of making the same mistakes. Slowly but surely, I got my life back. I owe my life to the man in the counseling center. I'm still learning.
A few months later, I was walking through a card store and I found blank card that simply read, "I am not afraid of storms...for I am learning how to sail my ship."
I put the card in a frame. It still sits next to my bed.
I'm never going to be perfect, and I will try not to be afraid, and I know that a storm will come....
But I've gotten a little bit better at sailing my ship, and I learn more everyday.
Monday, May 7, 2007
Sunshine Day
Today's good for a few reasons: 1. I had an excellent weekend 2. The weather is gorgeous 3. As I exited the subway, my iPod instinctively knew to cue up James Taylor's "Your Smiling Face." Atta' boy iPod.
Seriously, I gotta agree with James, and so I say, "no one can tell me that I'm doing wrong today."
Soooo on to the weekend recap...
Went to catch Tribeca Film Festival screening of "Suburban Girl" (which is the film adaptation of A Girl's Guide to Hunting and Fishing). Hated it...hated it hard. And yes, I loved the book. Sarah Michelle Gellar and Alec Baldwin and lots of cheesy lines (and an "almost" sex scene, that I am still cringing at the thought of). The movie had a lovely soundtrack though, and was shot in lovely locations all over the city, and in amazing apartments that I could never afford. So there was that.
On Saturday, I celebrated Cinco De Mayo adrift in a sea of margaritas with my best friends. I will tell you right now that if you want to get sloppy, Cancun (in the 56th and 8th Avenue) has the best margaritas of all time. I think I had a great time, but I don't remember what I ordered to eat. Highlights include my sister literally falling out of the restaurant, the same sister offering a random man a sip of her mojito, my best girlfriend asking my boyfriend about our method of birth control, and my gay boyfriend announcing it was time for him to go home and hook up.
Yes, these are my people. They do what they want, they say what they want, and I am absolutely in love with them.
Needless to say, it was a long hard road back from Margaritaville...and I spent Sunday drinking diet coke and laying on the boyfriend's couch.
And that leaves me here, on Monday...feeling good, and hopefully setting the course for the entire week.
Seriously, I gotta agree with James, and so I say, "no one can tell me that I'm doing wrong today."
Soooo on to the weekend recap...
Went to catch Tribeca Film Festival screening of "Suburban Girl" (which is the film adaptation of A Girl's Guide to Hunting and Fishing). Hated it...hated it hard. And yes, I loved the book. Sarah Michelle Gellar and Alec Baldwin and lots of cheesy lines (and an "almost" sex scene, that I am still cringing at the thought of). The movie had a lovely soundtrack though, and was shot in lovely locations all over the city, and in amazing apartments that I could never afford. So there was that.
On Saturday, I celebrated Cinco De Mayo adrift in a sea of margaritas with my best friends. I will tell you right now that if you want to get sloppy, Cancun (in the 56th and 8th Avenue) has the best margaritas of all time. I think I had a great time, but I don't remember what I ordered to eat. Highlights include my sister literally falling out of the restaurant, the same sister offering a random man a sip of her mojito, my best girlfriend asking my boyfriend about our method of birth control, and my gay boyfriend announcing it was time for him to go home and hook up.
Yes, these are my people. They do what they want, they say what they want, and I am absolutely in love with them.
Needless to say, it was a long hard road back from Margaritaville...and I spent Sunday drinking diet coke and laying on the boyfriend's couch.
And that leaves me here, on Monday...feeling good, and hopefully setting the course for the entire week.
Friday, May 4, 2007
Better When We're Together?
Last night I went straight from work to my tiny apartment, straight into my pajamas, dove straight into a tofu and veggie wrap, and then straight into bed with a chocolate chip cookie to watch television until I fell asleep. Sound boring? Not for me....it was absolutely perfect, and I was happy to do it alone...because being lazy and sitting around on a weekday is something that SHOULD be done alone.
Last night my boyfriend went straight from work to a bar downtown to watch the Red Sox, and have wings and beers. For him, it was absolutely perfect...and he was more than happy to do it alone. In my personal opinion this is something that SHOULD NOT be done alone.
I can never understand why he likes going to bars by himself. I would feel so self conscious sitting at a bar alone, drinking alone, watching other people be together. My boyfriend explains that it doesn't feel alone at all, that he feels part of a group when he watches a game at a bar, he talks sports with the other patrons, eats wings, and buys rounds of drinks.
Today when we compared stories about our respective evenings, I asked him if there were things he was better at, when he was alone. Personally, I know that I am better off food shopping, clothes shopping, bookstore visiting, commuting to and from work, and being sick by myself.
He told me that there was nothing that he does alone, that he wouldn't enjoy doing with someone else. That whether he was alone or not, he felt exactly the same. He did what he wanted to do, and it was the self-fulfillment that he enjoyed, and he was also welcomed the people he cared about to come along for the ride.
This may seem like a rambling post....but I came to the conclusion that I want to be more like him. There are nights when I want to see a movie or have a drink, but don't because I would be alone....and there's still a teenager that lives inside of my head that wonders "if I went by myself, everyone would look at me, and what would they think?"
I want to build the confidence to be able to do what I want to do, to do what would make me happy in the moment and enjoy my own company. I want to understand that being myself should be fulfilling enough, and to stop caring what people think about me.
And just like my boyfriend, I would always welcome the people that I love to come along and join me for the ride.
Last night my boyfriend went straight from work to a bar downtown to watch the Red Sox, and have wings and beers. For him, it was absolutely perfect...and he was more than happy to do it alone. In my personal opinion this is something that SHOULD NOT be done alone.
I can never understand why he likes going to bars by himself. I would feel so self conscious sitting at a bar alone, drinking alone, watching other people be together. My boyfriend explains that it doesn't feel alone at all, that he feels part of a group when he watches a game at a bar, he talks sports with the other patrons, eats wings, and buys rounds of drinks.
Today when we compared stories about our respective evenings, I asked him if there were things he was better at, when he was alone. Personally, I know that I am better off food shopping, clothes shopping, bookstore visiting, commuting to and from work, and being sick by myself.
He told me that there was nothing that he does alone, that he wouldn't enjoy doing with someone else. That whether he was alone or not, he felt exactly the same. He did what he wanted to do, and it was the self-fulfillment that he enjoyed, and he was also welcomed the people he cared about to come along for the ride.
This may seem like a rambling post....but I came to the conclusion that I want to be more like him. There are nights when I want to see a movie or have a drink, but don't because I would be alone....and there's still a teenager that lives inside of my head that wonders "if I went by myself, everyone would look at me, and what would they think?"
I want to build the confidence to be able to do what I want to do, to do what would make me happy in the moment and enjoy my own company. I want to understand that being myself should be fulfilling enough, and to stop caring what people think about me.
And just like my boyfriend, I would always welcome the people that I love to come along and join me for the ride.
Thursday, May 3, 2007
It's Just Emotion, Taking Me Over....
This morning at work, I had a moment of self-realization...
I was chatting with my boss about something that was frustrating me, and I suddenly got that weird "I'm about to choke up" feeling. Obviously this was completely horrifying, because I belong to the school of thought that crying at work is completely unacceptable. The moment passed as quickly as it came, and I finished the conversation wondering if my boss noticed that I had teared up over a ridiculous work-related gripe.
The self-realization moment came when I sat back down at my desk....
For as long as I can remember, my reaction to every single emotion moment is to tear up. Angry? Sad? Nervous? Frustrated? Happy? About to do some public speaking? I quickly choke up, and then the moment passes. (it's usually about an 8 second choke up, with a 3 second recovery)
I've been like this for as long as I can remember, and it quickly ( and unintentionally) takes any slightly emotional moment to the next level...which believe me when I say, is really annoying. I hate being misinterpreted.
Now, I don't consider myself to be overly emotional or dramatic....so what's the deal?
For now, I guess I'll just consider it to be another fascinating quirk, among my laundry list of unique traits....either that or I'm losing my mind ;).
I was chatting with my boss about something that was frustrating me, and I suddenly got that weird "I'm about to choke up" feeling. Obviously this was completely horrifying, because I belong to the school of thought that crying at work is completely unacceptable. The moment passed as quickly as it came, and I finished the conversation wondering if my boss noticed that I had teared up over a ridiculous work-related gripe.
The self-realization moment came when I sat back down at my desk....
For as long as I can remember, my reaction to every single emotion moment is to tear up. Angry? Sad? Nervous? Frustrated? Happy? About to do some public speaking? I quickly choke up, and then the moment passes. (it's usually about an 8 second choke up, with a 3 second recovery)
I've been like this for as long as I can remember, and it quickly ( and unintentionally) takes any slightly emotional moment to the next level...which believe me when I say, is really annoying. I hate being misinterpreted.
Now, I don't consider myself to be overly emotional or dramatic....so what's the deal?
For now, I guess I'll just consider it to be another fascinating quirk, among my laundry list of unique traits....either that or I'm losing my mind ;).
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