We Accept The Love We Think We Deserve

Though this was originally written as my annual Facebook note reflecting on the year, I thought this would be a good place to share it too.

What a year.

My mind struggles to grasp the year in its entirety: there has been so much change and growth that it's hard for me to step back and really see what this year has brought.

Let's think about where I was at the end of 2012: in Amsterdam, reaching for my independent self as I prepared to transition yet again, from Italy to London, one au pair job to another. In the months leading up to that trip, I had been dumped, discovered the power of Don Miguel Ruiz and, through his words, found my own power and sense of self, which I had freely given to those I had loved for too many years.

I made commitments to myself for 2013, the content of which were not as important, I found, as the act of committing to myself instead of others. I found comfort and strength in my promises, not because I kept them in the ways I'd initially set out to, but because of their greater underlying principle: that 2013 was going to be the year I put myself first, and stopped diminishing who I was through compromises made in, and for, relationships that did not serve me in the same ways I was willing to serve them.

No more would I, Jade Forester, serial monogamist and Queen of the Rebound, get myself into a codependent, dysfunctional relationship. No more would I choose saving others above saving myself.

2013 has been the year I learned how to save me - from myself, mostly, but also from those who would seek to de-rail the progress I'd made at the end of 2012. By the end of last year, I'd thought the thoughts and was talking the talk. In 2013 I walked the walk.

As with every path I've started down in my life, it didn't go quite according to plan - I didn't completely swear off dating, or sex, and whether that was the right choice is of course moot at this point. The goal was the find out who I am when I'm not being defined by my relationships with men. Not only to find out who I am, but to figure out if I even liked that person - and if not, take positive steps towards becoming the woman I want to be, a woman I can respect and love more than I loved being in love or planning my future. I had to start living in the present and be happy doing so.

Though I wouldn't be so arrogant as to sit back at this point and say "I'm done," as if a person's growth is something that is ever complete, I can say that I achieved my goals for 2013. I found out who I am when I'm not busy being a girlfriend. I found out that I'm pretty awesome on my own, and that I have the most amazing family around me - and I mean not only those that I'm related to, but those who came into my life along the way, and stayed. I found out that I don't need to go looking for love; I am surrounded by so much I can hardly breathe, I am so overwhelmed with gratitude at the blessings I have been given.

I realized I didn't know myself well enough in the past to have patience with those who fell short of my high expectations, or the clarity to realize the depth and breadth of the ways I contributed to others' unhappiness. I am working towards being more self-aware and to change old habits and assumptions, and am quietly optimistic about the future.

I have never been so humbled by any year as I have this one, though I'm sure many of my closest can think of others that my have been more outwardly momentous. But the journey from child to adult isn't always greatest in the milestone moments: the distance between student and graduate, or Maine and the UK, was not so great as the miles I travelled within myself this year, as I searched to discover and redefine who I am and what I want.

I am exhausted, yes, but exhilarated. I have never felt so ready to take on whatever life throws at me. Never have I had so much to be thankful for, or as many reasons to smile throughout my day. Never have I felt so fully my capacity for good, or my strength for change, or my ability to achieve my goals.

I don't have any resolutions as I move into 2014 beyond this: keep it up, Jade. Remind yourself of how far you've come, and what you are capable of when you open your eyes, your mind, your heart, to what you need.

Show yourself every day that are worthy of love - and that means loving yourself. Remember Stephen Chbosky's words from The Perks of Being a Wallflower: 'We accept the love we think we deserve.'

Show those who support you how much they mean to you whenever you have the opportunity to do so. Remember how much they've done for you, and don't forget it or take them for granted. Remember how it felt when you withdrew yourself from them, and don't let it happen again!

Open yourself up to falling in love again, even if it doesn't look or feel like it used to. If you don't want the next relationship to end like all the others, you probably don't want it starting like all the others. Take your time. Breathe. Hold on to yourself without holding yourself back.

Remember the four agreements:

1. Be impeccable with your word
2. Don't take anything personally
3. Don't make assumptions
4. Always do your best

Miss Communication

This is the 2-3am angry post.

I'd like to know what is so hard about communicating.  Please, do tell.

See, I seem to have this problem.  I speak my mind and tell people when I want or need something.  When I invite an acquaintance out, I say " I would like to take you to this place at this time on such and such day".

Yet, I never seem to have the same language used with me.  A man approaches me to ask for a date.  He asks where I would like to go, and makes absolutely no mention of date or time.  I have to think up some place that he might like.  Then go through and suggest days that might work.  Just who is doing the asking?

I'm tired of this.  Every time I think someone is asking me on a date, I end up doing all the work.  Do your part.  You want to spend time with me, spend ten seconds coming up with an idea about it.  You're laziness ensures that I will not be spending time on you.

Addendum - I have been informed that what I am describing is "confidence".  My reply was that, from anecdotal experience, there are no confident men.  There are inept men and there are creepers on the train who *really* want to get you a coffee.

Non Sequitur

About two months ago I was very ill and sitting at home in my dogs-toasting-marshmallows flannel pj's and reading articles/watching youtube as a break from all of the naps.  As I sat there, feeling a bit blobbish wrapped in a blanket, and sipping tea for my sinus infection, I came across the "Blurred Lines" video and controversy.  As I watched the video, an inescapable descriptor for the women in the video dawned on me.

"Sex Kitten".

I thought for a minute about all the connotations of this as the artist sang and the women bounced.  I looked down at my dogs-toasting-marshmallows flannel pajamas,

"Fuck that.  I am NOT a sex kitten,"  Said I to my computer. "I am a SEX LION".
I sneezecoughed into a tissue.
"HEAR ME ROAR".

Return of the Blog Part I

I've been out of touch for a few months.  Not just with this blog, but life in general.  I have a habit of isolating myself when things get to be too much.  It might be bad if I were just hiding under a rock.  Mostly I use it to slow things down.  I cut myself off from a lot of good stressors so that I have enough energy to separate and deal with the bad ones.  After that, I have some decompression time.  I'll have itemized ad dealt with most of the big things, and just need time to find focus again.  But the latest cycle is over and last week I finally started reaching out again.

You'll have noticed the "Part I"  in the title.  I though that since this is a blog about life and such, I'd separate some items out and explain them to you you a bit.

Part I - Love and Relationships
Part II - Health and Family
Part III - Career
Part IV - Goals and Career
Part V - A new Year

Once I've written the others, I'll try to remember to add links to the above.

Love and Relationships:

I broke up with Hunter almost two weeks ago.  At seven months, he was my second longest relationship.
After all the fighting we've done over the last few months, we managed to end things amicably.  I think we were both tired.  I baked vegan brownies to bribe him to stay my friend.  So far, that seems to be going ok.

My big problem was that it got to be exhausting to spend time with him.  Every time I'd talk to him, it was such an emotional toll, I'd lose the rest of the days productivity.  It would probably not have been that bad if I had a job to provide more structure to the rest of my life.  But I don't, so I work with what I've got.  In any case, I need to not feel like I'm the only one making effort for a relationship, and that was what things got down to.

I made a lot of exceptions in my priorities for Hunter.  Right from the beginning.  Things like time with my friends, or how long to wait to get physical, keeping it as an equal  partnership, and setting boundaries.  These are my rules and I set them for a reason.
The lesson I learned is that no matter how attractive someone is, or how much I love them or want things to work out - if I keep breaking my own rules, I won't be happy.

This relationship did give me more opportunity to explore than any previous relationship, and for that, I'm happy.  I don't think I'm going to keep up with most of that, but it is nice to feel like there are more options.

The other issue is that this is the first time I've had a relationship that could effect something else.  I volunteer with him for theater tech with a small company.  He's the tech director and I've been sort of main on lights.  But while we're still friends, it looks like that could continue to work out.  I'd really like it to.

Now I'm taking some time to reconnect with all of the friendships that I allowed to slip with the relationship drama.

Have a Heart: My Relationship Is Not a Convent

I was really sad today. One of those “I could walk in front of a train” days - they start happening in November and follow until mid-Spring. These days often turn into me doing not-so-surreptitious research on joining a convent (usually Catholic, I’m traditional if nothing else. Though I’m not at all Catholic.)

I’ve fantasized about being a nun almost my whole life, and I absolutely blame Rodgers and Hammerstein, and bloody Maria von Trapp.

One of the most poignant moments for me as of late was about Mother Superior and How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria? She’s a devil - she’s an angel - she’s a giiiiirl! And with that the nuns promptly decide that perhaps Maria does not belong in the convent and perhaps Mother Superior should hire her out to be a governess to a cranky widower. “You’re not really cut out to be a nun, Maria,” they say, “Being a child in a tree and looking down at our quiet, holy lives does not prepare you to make these vows.”

The more important part of the story comes later when Maria gets frustrated and comes back to the convent, citing that it was too hard and she couldn’t get through to the children. Mother Superior tells her to “climb every mountain” in one of my favorite solo songs. At its essence, the song (and Mother Superior’s role) is to encourage Maria to stop hiding from her problems. A convent is not built to keep your secrets, or for you to ignore your unprofessed love of the Captain, or to… hide. (We know because Rolf found them in the end anyway. I know, it’s a true story, but hush. I’m making metaphors out of molehills.)

Relationships, like convents, are not good places to pretend you don’t have problems. A habit cannot save you from your reckless dreams, and a relationship can’t save you from the problems you’ve been trying to avoid your whole life.

Maria has wild abandon. She’s not suited for a quiet life of being a nun. I have issues that look like whatever the opposite of wild abandon is. I’m not suited to be a wife right now.

So, unable to afford the therapist I want to see, I’m borrowing a leaf out of my own crazy book and turning (after 15 years of holy abandon, practicing almost entirely by myself) to organized(ish) religion. Because I’m craving so much solitude and contemplation, I started going to the weekly dharma gathering at the NYC Shambhala Center. I don’t know a lot about Buddhism yet (beyond what I can glean from the Beats), but I am pretty great at sitting still for long stretches at a time and focusing on my breath.

Today we did a love-kindness focused seven-part guided meditation and I was really bad at it. I had trouble focusing on our meditation phrase, “May you find happiness.” We started with a benefactor, then ourselves, then a neutral person, then someone who annoys us, then all the people in the room, and then the whole universe. Not only did I have trouble picking a benefactor (because there were too many!), but I had trouble picking a person I was neutral towards, and an even harder time picking someone who annoys me. People who just “rub me the wrong way”... I don’t have very many of those.

I could’ve used more love-kindness focus - I ended up mostly annoyed with inability to focus.

Anyway, once I abandoned the phrase and focused on drawing the warmth from my heart and center, I was able to radiate compassion for the universe like the sun. I can’t imagine what I must have looked like, but I felt like a sunflower. My face raised towards the ceiling, shoulders relaxed, smiling like an idiot. Wrapping the world in love and kindness like a babe.

In our brief one-on-ones, I spoke with a young woman who had the opposite problem - she couldn’t focus on extending to the universe, but individuals didn’t give her too much trouble besides the crying. She felt so deeply towards her friends and benefactors, loved them so much that she cried. I cry a lot too, but usually only when people I love leave me, or I’m just too sad to find another expression.

I liked her - she reminded me of Maria.

Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.

As I'm writing this, I'm sitting on my couch. My leg muscles actually ache because I'm clenching them so tight. I decided to do this blog post in hopes that it would distract me. And it didn't involve moving. 





There's a mouse in my house.

So I know we all have irrational fears. It's a thing. 

But oh my God a mouse. 

I'm alone, the roomie's out. I called the parents and was advised to put out mousetraps. 

I don't ever, ever, ever anticipate seeing a mouse, so why would I have mousetraps?!?!?!?!?! Sorry, that's the terror talking. 

A short time ago (okay, fine, I haven't moved an inch in half an hour), I saw it. Out of the corner of my eye. Running. Across. My. Floor. From the living room. Into the kitchen.

Where did it come from? Where did it go? (PEOPLE - this is no time for "Cotton Eyed Joe" jokes!) 

It went somewhere. Perhaps under the fridge. Doesn't it know there's no food in there? If it wants sprite or Chobani, fine, otherwise it's going to be mad. Then who knows what will happen. Gah! 

I am 27 years old but I've called my mommy twice already. Apparently one cannot provide a mousetrap over the phone. I now know this. 

I haven't eaten dinner. I'm hungry. I really have to pee. But guess what - there's no way in all of Hades that I'm moving off of this futon of safety. 

Sigh.... 

This is NOT a drill, people! Assume the crouch position! 

All My Friends Are Getting Married and I Love It (And Them!)

I’ve spent about $2000 in the last three years on weddings. I’ve been a bridesmaid three times, and there’s a fourth coming up in December. I’m not even a bridesmaid in that one — they just want me to run the show.

My engaged friends really dig my organizational skills. They like how I make schedules, they love how I ask questions, boss people around, and generally get shit done so they don’t have to worry about it. Where’s your phone? Erin’s had it since 8 o’clock this morning so you could have a champagne breakfast, not deal with your almost in-laws. The florist is supposed to be here at 2:00? I’m on the phone at 2:02 and expect updates every 90 seconds until she’s on the floor. Where’s the man party? Room 228 — you hold her train, you carry these flowers, I’ll get the boys. I liaise. I delegate.

I have a finger in every part of the wedding day pie and it is really sexy. You know why?

I’m smiling. I love weddings.I love being in the thick of making the day go well. It is the most important thing to me, the most joyous part of the occasion. The timing of the day is intimate in itself, and I make things run smoothly. It’s what I am best at, and that my friends see it, appreciate it, and rely on it makes me feel loved and appreciated.

Of course, being the coordinating bridesmaid means I miss out on a lot of the “Ooh!” moments. I’m missing from most of the reception pictures. I did not lace up my dear friend’s wedding dress, nor help another with her petticoat, or buckle the other one’s shoes. But the moments I do get are really precious: being the first one up and ready to dress meant I painted my best friend’s toenails while the stylist started her hair. I found a quick fix for a too-dark eye. I made a bouquet and boutonniere for a courthouse ceremony.

I’m not asked to be a bridesmaid because I’m the fun one, the pretty one, or the friend since childhood. I am both fun and pretty, but I’m also introverted and can be quite-to-the-point. It makes socialization a little difficult, and I’ve been told (by people who don’t know me very well) that I lack tact. I’m working on it.

Ideally, if I ever left publishing, I’d like to do this for a living — a day-of event coordinator extraordinaire. But how does one become a professional bridesmaid? Is that a thing?

I’d like to make it a thing.