Here By My Side: A New Color To Paint The World

Hello all

It’s been awhile since I’ve posted here publicly. I’m not sure what drives it, really- nostalgia or boredom. I’m partly driven (at this 3:37am) to break the stark silence. I don’t know if any one person in particular will read this. It has been a long, winding path since words have been spake between myself and some people. It’s been two years (well, almost) since I have seen my very best friend. I’m proud to say that she has been impossible to replace (not that I was trying :P). I’ve found it a keen observation in times past that people I held to that regard seemed to drift away and the distance became permanent- our relationships remained marked and tenuous.

So what has happened to me in years since?  Forgive me, those who actually read anything that I write, if I recap. Having just read the chapters of several philosophy and psychology books to my fiance, I am feeling rather reflective. In times past, I would have scornfully written of my time post-"him". It would have been melodramatic and angry. But to be honest- I think it was hardest because it was the first time I ever had the power to be myself (and in so doing, find my true self without the attachment or expectation of another party). I allowed myself the time to be imperfect and make mistakes. I allowed myself the time to experiment and self-discover. Though it may have seemed hypocritical at the time, what I actually learned was that my opinions past had held some extremely closed-minded ideals.

To people who may have oft been offended by my diatribes about how higher-than-thou I believed myself to be before then: you had every right to resent my "preaching". You’re not bad people, I was just too blind and too self-righteous to consider anything to the alternative. And really, I learned that those were the people I had surrounded myself with- or at least so I thought. It turned out as often that the people I knew and cared for were actually too scared to tell me that they didn’t agree with me on those points- that they were living an alternative lifestyle, and it worked for them. I’m glad- illegal or not- to have allowed myself the time to stumble and be irresponsible, to be reckless and ‘young’. I needed the experience to know that I was okay without it. I am, however, glad that I did not engage in any sexual encounters then- that part of my life has stayed fairly pristine. But that’s a decision I make for myself- it isn’t something I expect other people (other than my fiance) to comply with. So I have learned that we are all variable, and that’s okay.

Nights when I laid on my pathetic blow-up mattress, beside my little TV, crying my eyeballs out and binge-eating peanut butter with a spoon, I needed to. Nights when I got pissed off and went out to window shop without the intent to spend money- I needed them. Nights when I could not be separated from my best friend on pain of death- I really needed those. Having the time to heal the wounds that were so exposed at the time, I realize that had been such an influential time in my life, of change and growth. I cherish the memory of my bittersweet misery, now. I can’t think I would take it back, despite how vivid the memory of my burgeoning pain still is today. I am so improved now, in my life without him. I don’t doubt myself as it is. There is nobody to beat my insecurities into me until I am too afraid to try, let alone succeed. I have no fear of eclipsing those I admire. I am more than ready for the challenge.

It was hard for me to admit that I needed to leave. A "fight or flight" response in me has been so apparent a lot in my life. When things get hard I begin to entertain ideas of packing a bag and running- starting over somewhere else, though somewhere in the very back of that urge, there’s the undying hope that someone will follow, and try to bring me home. More than anything, I needed to know I could stand alone in my heart and be okay- be excited even. Though it took time, I actually achieved it. There was a trigger moment in my recovery that inspired me to finally move out of Vancouver. It was words between myself and one of my best friends- words that if taken the wrong way could have served then, to change my life just as dramatically as it only just had. But I did not have in me what he was looking for- only what he needed. For the first time I found myself saying no to someone I love- even if that love was not the kind he’d hoped for.

I’m unashamed of living with my Mother at 24. I did at first, but nobody here understands that stigma. Most people do move back home at least once, and there is a growing acceptance of never leaving. Someone once decided that it is an animal depiction of independent success to move out and build ones own home- or at least have one of their own. But what has it given us? Animals do not have problem finding homes- they simply make ones wherever they go. They aren’t tied down by lease agreements or mortgages. More and more, it is becoming accepted that families stay together- generations all under a single roof. In that mentality, they manage to afford a pretty amazing roof to live under, too. There is an immovable support system in it, where a person’s independence is neither pushed on them, or discouraged. I grew up without my Mom, and we both see this time as the mutual benefit of getting to know each other- and we need it.

Even more surprising was meeting someone. I met him online- which was the ironic thing. My Mom pushed me to try an internet dating site, and I was curious to see whether or not I was ready to dip my toes back in that water. I made a very close friend, who, for months, I prayed had the feelings for me that I had begun to develop for him. We met in person, and the mutual attraction was very apparent. Factors were involved that ultimately prevented it from becoming anything more than a near miss. But the friendship we shared despite that opened me up. Though I had been crushed and feeling a bit resentful, I found myself ready to grab the reins of my life and start again. He would likely be resentful of this knowledge, but it is true. He made me receptive to loving again, and shortly thereafter, I found it.

I get married in a few short months. I officially live with my fiance in a house that he actually owns (though, unofficially, I am currently at my Mom’s- not for reasons attributed to my love life). I have a beautiful 5 year old step daughter, who is currently in French Immersion. I have a lot of very difficult trials ahead, and a lot of troubling problems to solve, but they’re mostly technical. My only personal battle, really, is facing the loss of one of the most important men in my life: My Grandfather. He is suffering Type B Lymphoma. At the moment he is undergoing treatment in the form of chemotherapy, which they’ve given him a 60% chance of surviving. Other than that, they haven’t given us a time frame for anything- they’re not prepared to take our hope from us yet. I’ve even managed to come perfectly clean with my pent-up feelings about the last 12 years. I’ve refused to apologize for loving and living with my Mother. I’ve refused to perpetuate the angry bullshit that people in my family have so adamantly clung to. I’ve sworn to be a good, responsible parent to my daughter. My in-laws love me. My fiance loves me. My life, rock star or not, could be really perfect- it’s off to a pretty great start.

I’m not suggesting it will be easy. We’ll have (and have had) rough times. But he encourages me. He believes in me. He isn’t afraid to see me more successful than he is. He finds my power (both physically and intellectually) as being ultimately sexy. TImes are tough. It’s proof of the economy, but he knows that I am capable and able. And he trusts that. He isn’t threatened by me, unlike someone from my past was.

Part of me is still clinging to something. I have moments of de ja vu a lot. It isn’t like feeling a familiarity, like knowing I’ve been somewhere, done or said something before. It’s remembering a smell, or how I felt inside, and missing it. Maybe I’m simply embracing who I am, and learning to appreciate it. Part of me is still resentful of Stephenie trying to apologize to me for her part in ruining such a huge part of my life, via text message. The rest of me is grateful that she is the one stuck with that selfish monster- and stuck with the return on her karma. You reap what you sow. Some people say I need to forgive- I won’t. It isn’t that I’m holding onto the grudge (though I wouldn’t be against talking about it if it were true) it’s that they don’t deserve it. They would only see my forgiveness as being permission.

If those waves somehow hit the bow of that boat- I mean you no ill will and I mean you no harm. I hope that you’ve become a better person. The world needs more of them.

Until next time.



~ by Kд§$ị (ИovΔ) on 02/11/2010.

One Response to “Here By My Side: A New Color To Paint The World”

  1. Hey its great that you’re updating this again. It makes it seem like you’re not so far away. And have you noticed that Steve and Stephanie look a lot alike? Are you sure they aren’t related?? O.o

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