Tonight, I think, marked the beginning of the final end. The end where he moves out and moves on. Probably not in the next week or so, but I seriously doubt it will last through the summer. I’m ready, I really am. The week of peace was nice. Yes it’s frustrating sometimes to be responsible and come home to take care of the dogs, but it was my choice to have them. It’s also frustrating knowing you have to find people to help if you need a ride somewhere and aren’t able to drive. But in the end, people do it every day. And the peace of mind is absolutely worth any hurdles that may come.
I don’t know if I’m lonely, or just feeling alone. I am normally 10000000% happy bei,ng alone…but in the end I think if it’s a choice I’m ok with it. If it’s because I can’t find anyone to hang out with it makes me sad. Not that I used to have a ton of people to just hang out with….just a select few who were always there. Sometimes you want to act like you’re 21. Sometimes you want to act like you’re 40. I miss having my range of friends to do that with. I have friends here, but they all have set plans for their days. I’m new, an interloper, and my newness is wearing off. Or maybe I’m over the new and exciting parts. Every day is the same: wake up, work, home, homework, sleep, repeat. Now it’s the dead of winter, and staying in is more fun than going out. But I’m not at that level yet to be invited to things like that.
But even as I type this I think about the new people I’m meeting every day. I haven’t had enough time to squeeze outside of my box. I can’t let myself get down. I moved because I needed to get away so I could be me. And maybe the me right now is boring. I have to accept it and be ok with it. Boring is better than devastated.
Am I really ready to do this? Am I really ready to face going forward alone, to start the search yet again?
Sometimes it seems exciting, meeting new people, learning new things, trying new things. But the flip side is what I don’t want to deal with – the feelings that are one sided, phone calls/texts never returned. Being ridiculed and/or ignored. Being judged before we’ve ever even spoken.
But in the end, what really matters? My happiness, and the well being of those in my care. I need to quit holding other’s needs above my own. I need to focus, really focus, on who I am, what I want, and why I refuse to settle.
And who knows, maybe that path means I’ll be alone. But at least I’ll be happy.
You know what’s one of the most frustrating things about dating? The partial rejection. Instead of just saying it, you tip toe around it, hide things, and avoid questions. If I ask you a direct question it’s because I want an answer. Not answering leaves a window open. Not answering is the pathetic thing to do.
So I’m moving on. I’m tired of it. I want a relationship, not a man child again. Know yourself. Be willing to tell the truth even though it might hurt. You’d be amazed at the response you receive.
I officially started new profiles yesterday, ones that are very truthful. I’m done hiding parts of me just to fit in. I deserve better than that -we all do.
This weekend I realized something about myself that I’ve never really put to words. The problem is I can’t figure out why I’m like that, and how to change.
I am always worried about what other people think. Some of you might say “well we all are”. But I take it to an extreme. If I’m driving with the windows down I think about the music I’m playing, and what other people will assume from it. When I’m out shopping I find myself watching for others’ reactions when I come close, instead of just getting what I need and moving on. And I’ve never been able to do things that might shine me in a less-than-favorable light, like karaoke, or dancing in public (even at a club), or even wearing clothes that might “define” me. I feel ashamed even voicing this. Why should I give a damn what other people think? I can let my tattoos show and I’m ok with it. But I over-analyze what I’m wearing when I go get those tattoos. I’m hyper-conscious about what other people think, and I am deathly afraid of making a fool of myself.
In the end I think that’s what it is – giving other people a reason to laugh at me, not with me. I’ll crack jokes all day every day, but I don’t want someone laughing at me. I do have a deep seated issue with that. I remember my mom making me wear things to school that would cause kids to make fun of me. The worst issues I ever had was when she forced us to move. The kids were horrible to me. I had severe, cystic acne. I spoke funny. I looked different. Everything about me was different. Thinking about what I actually went through makes me want to cry. I don’t think I’ve ever allowed myself to move past that because I’ve ignored that it happened. That also explains why I can’t handle bullies now – I never moved past what I went through then.
I kid you not they had a song about my acne. I wonder if this is also part of the reason I don’t want children – god for fucking bid they ever go through what I went through. My mom wouldn’t let me shave my legs despite the fact that I looked like a woolly mammoth. I’m one of those odd natural blondes that actually has mixed hair color around my body. My legs happen to have dark dark brown hair. Being a young girl in a new city that already had features that made me weird, the last thing I needed was my mother forbidding me getting rid of that hair. But in reality, it’s the song that still haunts me. All I wanted to do was fit in. I had been discarded by my father and his entire side of the family. My mother removed me from everything I’d ever known and moved me to some god forsaken back country state to a city that wasn’t even on the fucking map.
I still desperately want to belong somewhere, and yet I can fit in anywhere. I learned, the hard way, how to be a chameleon. So much so that I still feel like I haven’t met all of me yet. I still adjust what I say and/or do sometimes to fit what I think other people want. Yes, sometimes that can be a good thing, but only sometimes. Most of the time I don’t want to be what every one else wants, or thinks, or expects. I wish I could just let go. Let go of the past, let go of my fear, just let go.
And I don’t know how to do that. I feel like I am drawn to people who can do that, but then I either push them away or find a way to back away because I’m afraid of being made a fool. What brought all this on? A very short date this weekend, where he was unabashedly and unapologetic-ally himself, and I realized I am the problem. I am the sad, scared child who feels alone because I got handed the short stick as a kid. I still live every day like I’m that kid. Like I can’t stand up for myself. Like it’s ok to let people push me around because I get scared when faced with confrontation. Holy shit I’m pushing 30 and I can’t stand up for myself.
I feel like a walking contradiction. Some things are ok, others aren’t. Why can’t I just be OK with me?
This topic must be explored more, but at the moment I have to go to bed so I can be coherent at my job tomorrow. Maybe this is the start of a cleansing that’s been a long time coming.