I’ve made a huge mistake

Dammit. When will I learn?  It wasn’t the dogwalker who shared my old blog with my daughter. It was her actual mother.

Honestly that was my first thought. The first wife, mother of my stepdaughters has many many many times hurt the kids to try to get at me or my ex-hubby. My daughter had contacted me after I wrote about her father marrying the dog walker and said the dog walker had shared the blog with her, but that wasn’t true.  She was protecting her mother, I guess.

Anyway.. I was dead wrong and flew off the handle and blamed the dog walker for shit she didn’t do. Evidently she also has a moral compass and wouldn’t ever do that to my daughter or to my ex, her new husband. She was evidently blind-sided too.

It does not escape my notice that if I were less reactive and hadn’t just believed everything and blamed the dog walker all willy nilly that I wouldn’t have this situation of eating crow. I’m adding that to the list of my wrongs and things to work on.. or rather moving it up the list I guess. It was already on the list.

Fucking emotions! Do you see why it’d be great to be a nice logical vulcan?

heart-and-brain

Heart and Brain by 9buz at 9buz.com.

It’s hard

I can’t stand being emotional and hurt by other’s emotions.

I hate it when the people I love are angry and distant and strange.  I hate it. I spent half of July 4th not understanding why Traveler was being grouchy and surly. He kept asking me where a wine from his basement was from and I kept saying I don’t know, maybe Quinky bought it? It looks like it’s from Oregon?  It’s from 2008, were you there then? It says it’s from Oregon. Look, the winery is in Oregon.

He snapped that he knew it was from Oregon and I’d said that 5 times, and I walked upstairs like a kicked puppy. Continue reading

Stir that Lemonade

Sometimes a thing just resonates with you, like a sounding rod, like a shot right to the core.  It’s the weirdest thing, but I am there with Lemonade, by Beyonce.  It’s her new visual album.  I watched it the other night when I desperately needed a break from school and zing.. it just struck a cord.  I can’t stop thinking about the ideas and the things in it.  It stirred up some shit in me.

gorgeous underwater surface image found at https://sandroworrell.wordpress.com/. Check them out. GREAT stuff.

The other night I just kept thinking about lies and lying and the dishonesty with those we love. I thought about my mother’s lies, the root of my hatred of lies.  I thought about lovers and friends and my chosen family and the lies.  I keep thinking about other things in the video.  I thought about love and redemption and trust and healing.  She just went there, like for real.  And she came out of it too, and I thought of my own times recently when I’m remembering who I am.  I’m remembering what I am.  I got a little lost there for a while, hurting, healing, reeling maybe.  But I’m not that girl.  I stayed there a long time maybe, but I can’t live in self pity or fear.  I’m not that girl.

I am my father’s daughter.  I am resilient and forgiving and strong and tenacious.  I feel deeply and widely and strongly but never easily.  I don’t like being vulnerable, but I’m learning to be okay with my capacity to do so.

It still bothers me, this way I need people.  But I know that the fact this bothers me is the real bother.  People need people and I am not immune.  It’s the weird thing about vulnerablity being a strength.  My love can wear it down.  I’m remembering that I love me too, just not more than I love you.  I am remembering that I make plans and dream and actually make some of it happen.  I’m remembering that there is a long line of times in this world that you love someone as trully as you can and maybe they just can’t go there.  But it says nothing about you.  It’s about them.  And no.. this isn’t remotely about Traveler.

Traveler can go there.  He’s learned to speak and I’m learning to listen more and more and more.  He says the stuff because I love it, but I’m seeing it too.

And family.. well.. that one’s hard.  but isn’t it always?  Family is loving people beyond the parts of them that make you crazy.  I chose my family, but that doesn’t mean they don’t make me nuts.  Love them anyway.

I don’t know.  I just feel a lot of things popping up to the surface that have maybe been down under the waves for a while.  I feel myself rising to the shimmering surface there.  I can see the bubbles and feel the pressure of my breath held so long, but I feel it faster and faster.. I’m coming up.

Conflict

“One thing you who had secure or happy childhoods should understand about those of us who did not. We who control our feelings, who avoid conflicts at all costs, or seem to seek them. Who are hypersensitive, self-critical, compulsive, workaholic, and above all survivors. We are not that way from perversity, and we cannot just relax and let it go. We’ve learned to cope in ways you never had to.”
Piers Anthony

I hate conflict.  But I also sometimes create it or add to it.  Sometimes my feelings bubble up and I can’t hold them back and they come spilling out in a mess.  And I spend a LOT of time apologizing for that when it happens.  I know how much it sucks, and for someone who hates conflict it is the literal worst.  It feels like I betray myself.

Otherwise, I avoid conflict with anyone I care about. Even if it has nothing to do with me.  Even if I have a legitimate beef with you… Even if I caught you lying.. if you were mean or unfair or cruel.. even if you were the one that treated me badly, my tendency is to want to take the hit if it will just end this gnashing of teeth.  The FIRST thing I think when anyone I care about is upset is, “what did I do?”  I apologize for my feelings.  I apologize for wanting.  I apologize for being a mess and for needing.  I apologize for having felt hurt.   Continue reading

Goldilocks

Goldilocks painting by Jasmine Beckett-Griffith

Goldilocks painting by Jasmine Beckett-Griffith

I’ve said many times I wish I were the ever-graceful and unaffected Grace Kelly.  I’m not particularly emotional at the moment, but it’s a thing with me that I get embarrassed of my emotion.  Wait, no.  I get embarrassed of my *messy* emotions.

I’m perfectly happy that I feel boundless love.  I am tickled that a great number of things delight me. I’m passionate.  I love deeply.  I’m fiercely loyal.  I’m tenacious and determined and empathetic.  I can go there with a friend.  I can take a lover there.  All of these emotions I adore.

But it’s the messy stuff.  I’m ashamed I have insecurities.  I’m embarrassed when I cry.  I can’t stand being irrational or out of sorts or brooding.  I despise that I burn over offenses and that I have to address and let go of things when others seem perfectly capable of stuffing them down forever.  I hate my messy emotions.

I was talking about this with Quinky Girl.  She is a human who gets twinges, but by and large she is unaffected by some things that make me rail.  I deeply envy that.  I would be the same way if I could and I can’t.  I HATE to talk about the little things that bother me.  But if I don’t they become big things and come out sideways.  I hate that too.  Other polys say “Oh I didn’t need to talk about that.  I just let it go”.  And I feel much much worse.  It’s like they are jabbing me right in my eye with that.  I’d prefer not to have awkward moments but I can’t be any other way.  I don’t wanna make shit weird.  I don’t wanna have a little chat.  I hate confrontation and awkwardness.  I wanna just flip my hand, brush my hair off my shoulder and say “I never did mind the little things”.  But I simply don’t work that way. Continue reading