Losing Me, Finding Me

I was going to shut this blog down for good a few weeks ago.

I realized that the readership I once had doesn't seem as enthusiastic about reading my blog posts. When I first started this blog, I would get comments and messages saying that my words resonated with people. People would share their innermost thoughts and feelings with me, telling me they felt understood, and in those moments I realized that my words had the power to heal. But they don't seem to have the same effect these days.

I've written about happiness, love, feminism, racism, my students - anything I have been passionate about. And I often share with the understanding that I am taking a risk by saying too much, giving too much away, just BEING TOO MUCH. There have been times that I've sobbed while writing and times when I've felt triumphant and even other-worldly, as if someone were writing through me.

Not so much lately.

I've been struggling with pretty much everything in my life. Nothing has been easy in the past year since I uprooted myself from a stable job and a place where I was accepted and loved as is, and came to this new place where no one knows me and no one seems to care how "amazing" I used to be. I am in a place where authenticity is not something to be achieved, because it is not understood as a concept. As much I am used to change and growth, I am in a place where people "are who they are" and I should not "expect them to change." It's like hitting brick walls and expecting them to bounce back. There's no other way to describe my experience so far. As a result, I have been expending energy becoming defensive, protected, and guarded in every relationship. I have become everything I've worked so hard to let go of, everything I told the young women in my life not to be. I let life beat me.

I know this because last week I was talking with one of the young professionals I supervise, and as I was looking for a way to resolve a problem, I decided that taking myself out of it would demonstrate that my ego was not as important as helping the team to run well. She said something to the effect of, "You are saying you are being humble in this instance, but you really sound defeated." Finally, someone truly understood my experience as of late, and I could feel the entire universe releasing a long-held, pent-up breath. My spirit told me, "You've lost who you really are."

Two weeks ago, I met a man with whom I'd been corresponding through a dating site and phone conversations. It wasn't easy at first, as he continues to remind me. "Remember when you wouldn't return my texts for four hours? When you would tell me specific times to call you and you wouldn't pick up?" What he knew, without me saying it, was that in those initial calls or texts, I was finding reasons not to engage. I didn't want to try - I had tried before, and it didn't work out. I had tried, and gotten so unbelievably hurt and betrayed that, even though I wanted to try again, I didn't want to try again. I got super defensive and refused to acknowledge those texts and calls. Then we had a snow day, and he called while I was doing nothing. I just picked up because, in that moment, I had no reason not to. The first words out of his mouth were, "Let me ask you this: Do you WANT a relationship?" He proceeded to tell me exactly how he felt about my antics, and somehow, rather than hang up on him for being so aggressive, I listened. And we talked. And somehow, two hours had gone by. Two hours of my precious time, that is usually planned. I plan phone conversations, okay? And at the end of those two hours, we got off the phone much in the same way teenagers do. "I'm really going to say goodbye now, okay? I'm really going to hang up." As I hung up, I breathed a sigh of surprise and relief, the universe sighing and smiling with me.

I talked to him again later that night after having cleaned my car off and getting back upstairs feeling a little sore. He told me to run a hot bath, get some candles and a glass of wine, and to just relax. I did it simply because he told me to, and I was so relaxed that I slept like a baby and felt as if I had given something to myself that I had not in such a long time: the gift of self-care. I don't know why I had not ever thought to pamper myself in that way. Yes, the bath was relaxing, but I left that experience with more than loosened muscles; I left feeling valued and appreciated by ME.

Photo Credit: M. Gerade

In the past two short weeks, this man has somehow reminded me that being spontaneous is a good thing, that everything doesn't have to be planned, that any time we are able to, we should make the time to see each other, and no matter what we do or for how little time it may be, there is value in those moments. He frequently remarks that he likes me - the "conservative" me that he first met through online photos, our first conversations, our first date - and the me who has opened up and accepted to go on this adventure with him. He believes that I have grown in such a short amount of time, but what he doesn't know is that who he sees now is really me. Being guarded and evasive was my defense mechanism, but he knocked that wall down as soon as possible to get to who I really am, a loving, compassionate, funny person who is willing to stop planning and start living. Again.

I have found me again. And this is why I write this right now, regardless of who reads. Because this is a part of who I really am. I am creative. I am expressive. I am, sometimes, too much. And I love it. I love ME.

Open Your Heart

Image Courtesy of Helen Green

It's the time of year when the streets are lit up with twinkling lights, people spend entirely too much money shopping for others (rather than, or as in my case as well as, for themselves), travel plans are made, and families and friends come together. "Elf " is on almost every day, sappy holiday romance movies fill the Hallmark Channel, and tears may show up at any time because, like the Grinch, our hearts are growing three sizes too big. It's Christmas time. Holiday time. Winter break.

This post is about romance, dating, and love. It's about getting up again after having been down for a very long time. It's for those who like the feeling of their heart swelling and tears showing up in the corners of their eyes. And if that's not you, you should probably read this. Because this is most definitely for you.

Over the past two months, I started dating someone. He is the first person I've consistently dated in a very long time and after having been in an on-again, off-again relationship with someone who pretty much committed every sin one possibly could against the person he supposedly loves. That relationship ended for good when he told me he'd had a child with someone three years prior. (Yes, while we were probably "off", but when we got back "on", he still waited three years to tell me.)  And that relationship was one of the most heart- and gut-wrenching relationships of my life. That person seemed to be my soul mate, we understood each other, and we knew each other inside and out. Very intense.

When I moved from upstate New York to the Washington, DC area, I had done a lot of cleansing. I got rid of a lot of old stuff, including my old bedroom set from when I was married. I wanted a clean slate in every part of my life, including my love life. I decided, just three months after finally settling down with a new apartment and new job, to go online and see if I'd meet anyone. I found a free trial for a popular dating site, and was pleasantly surprised to see that I had gotten several emails from men in the area. I started corresponding with a few, but some were duds, one was overzealous (he offered to wash and blow dry my hair and arch my brows!), but one seemed pretty humble and unassuming, and he was respectful. He actually caught my attention because he made a reference to one of my photos that told me he paid attention to national news and politics, which is kind of one of my obsessions. We met after corresponding for a week or so and had a nice conversation. It went well and he said that he wanted to see me again.

Interestingly enough, my ex surfaced around that time as well, asking if he could come and visit. I didn't say no, but those plans ended up falling through, so I was able to meet Mr. Nice Guy.  Why didn't I say no, you ask? Because when it came down to actually going out on a date, I thought I couldn't do it. I thought that my ex, Mr. A-Hole, was still too present in my heart. He was talking about trying to work things out and starting over (as usual), and although I knew that it would never work between us, I still had a teeny glimmer of hope that maybe things could get better, if I gave him another chance. Truth be told, I was so used to Mr. A-Hole, and I was scared to meet someone new. God, fate, and destiny did not allow us to reunite, especially during a time when I was attempting to start fresh, and I learned a huge lesson after these past two months.

A couple of days ago, after six dates with Mr. Nice Guy, things ended. Mr. Nice Guy, it turns out, has some difficulty dealing with life when it doesn't go exactly as planned. I wanted to like him because he was nice to me. And then he wasn't very nice to me. We went out a couple of times in DC to see some very nice Christmas shows, and during the entire time he found things to complain about, and he seemed to "jokingly" put down my suggestions, though he is not much of a decision maker. He didn't want to walk two blocks to the theatre from the parking garage. After the second evening of listening to him complain incessantly and blame me for his having to walk, including pretty much cursing me under his breath, I told him he had a choice, and he never had to go anywhere with me again. He dropped me off, and that was the last time I heard from him.

On one of our dates, I asked Mr. Not So Nice Guy why he was single. He seemed nice and he wasn't unattractive. He said that he doesn't meet a lot of people he can relate to (I was one of those people) and that, having been alone most of his life, he doesn't think very many people would be willing to accept his habits. After our last date, I knew why he was still single. He refused to open his heart up to anyone. It showed in how inflexible he was and how much he complained when he was out of his comfort zone. It showed in how he didn't want to get close to me at any point in our relationship. Every time he would kiss me good night, I could see how hesitant and awkward he was, how much thought he had to put into it. Even sitting in the theatre with him, I could see that he felt uncomfortable if our shoulders touched. He didn't want anyone sitting next to him, and as I watched other couples hug and kiss and be romantic, I knew that would never be us, no matter how many more dates we went on.

I find it interesting that the men I've come across, once hurt, find it so difficult to allow someone into their lives. I've been hurt, and I've felt utter loss, in the same ways the men I've known have. I have thought that I would never love again. I have felt betrayal and broken trust so deeply that I spent years not wanting to open up again. And yet, I know how alive I feel when I do open up, even just a little.

I'm sad for Mr. Nice Guy because I knew he was excited to meet someone he could talk to, who liked some of the same things he did. He seemed so used to things ending the way they ended for us a few days ago, as if that's how it usually goes for him, as if being "forever alone" is supposed to be his default status. If he had opened up to seeing walking a few blocks as an opportunity to explore, to spend time with someone he liked, to even have a romantic walk in DC at Christmas time, the night could have ended differently. Instead, he only saw things as an inconvenience to his comfort, and blamed me for his discomfort (even though he was driving and could have chosen a different place to park). So Mr. Nice Guy will go back to being alone, which is his comfort zone.

I'm happy for myself, because as I stated earlier, I learned a huge lesson about love. Although I thought my ex had a pretty firm grip on my heart, dating Mr. Nice Guy taught me that I could move on, that I could be treated the way I deserved to be treated, but also that I could determine when I wasn't being treated well and speak up for myself. It taught me that I could start over, that I could give love a chance, and that taking the risk of opening up feels better than withdrawing into my shell and freezing everyone else out.

My prayer is that Mr. Nice Guy learns that lesson soon, too.

Mirrors

For most people, vacations are a time to get away and have fun, and even get their "groove back".  For me, vacations have a different purpose.  I live a very busy life working, going to school, and coordinating a women's leadership program.  Most of the hours of my day are dedicated to something or someone else, and the little bit of time I have for myself is usually spent exercising, cooking, eating, studying, and sleeping. There is little left for the things I LOVE to do, such as writing, singing, reading for fun, and introspection.  When I go on vacation, it is usually so that I can get away from the demands of life much like it is for everyone else, but it is also so that I can retreat and have some peace and quiet to reflect on who I am, where I am, who I am becoming, and what lessons life wants to teach me.

Most times, I take these vacations alone.  Sometimes, I go with a friend.  The friend I most often go with  is someone who has been in my life most consistently in the past few years, but I've known him since I was ten years old.  Although our reunion almost four years ago originally occurred with the idea of dating and developing a relationship, this did not work out.  Blog post upon blog post refers to the story of our relationship, which ends on one level and begins again on another.  To put it bluntly, we can't seem to let each other go for good.  While the feelings and interactions aren't always the greatest, I've come to understand that there is something we need to learn from one another, and although I sometimes feel weak and, frankly, stupid for continuing this undefined relationship, I trust that I always know when something must end and when God closes a door.  

Our last trip was just a few weeks ago.  It was a few days after my 41st birthday and I honestly had planned to go away alone to spend time reflecting on another year of life, but in the planning stage of this trip, my friend offered to go with me.  I couldn't understand why he wanted to travel with me, since the last time we traveled together I was extremely hateful towards him (see my blog post about that here).  His response was that I had "vented" all of my feelings already, so he figured I would be fine.  This was kind of true, actually.  So we went to Orlando for a few days and I was prepared to be as nice as possible, especially because all of my "venting" the last time I saw him wore me out.  

While my expectation was that things would be calm because I was calm, that wasn't necessarily the case.  He has a really subdued demeanor so he never really gets out of control, but he's very sarcastic and blunt.  In the first few hours of our trip he asked me a couple of sarcastic questions regarding other men, and decided that he was going to point out something he didn't like about me.  I ignored these things because I was trying to be peaceable and decided these statements were not worth pursuing.  But the next day, when I asked a question as a joke, he sharply told to me to stop asking rhetorical questions and that he really doesn't like when I do that.  He was more than irritated.  I told him that he should really let it go because it's not that important, and that I wasn't going to spend my time on vacation arguing about something so trivial.  But in the back of my mind I understood that his irritation wasn't really about my habit of asking rhetorical, sarcastic questions to be funny.  It was "his turn" to be mean to me.  

Later that night, we were at dinner and somehow the conversation turned to us spending time together.  I asked him, "If you really don't like me as a person, why are you here with me?"  He responded that he knows who I really am and he loves who I really am, but that I am always in protection mode because of my past experiences and having been taken advantage of by other men.  He urged me to be myself and stop trying to protect myself all the time, because when I'm protecting myself, I am keeping others at arm's length. 

I took in this feedback with complete understanding about what he was experiencing with me.  However, because part of this conversation referred to my ugly actions during our last trip (which he claimed to have forgiven me for), I began to internalize our entire interaction that day as hurtful. We argued in the car on the way home, and later that night I said, "Let's agree that the next few days we will try to be ourselves and let go of the things we don't like about each other, because these next few days will be the last few days we'll ever spend together."  (Italics emphasize where I spoke out of hurt.) 

The next day, we went to the Epcot International Food and Wine Festival and had a really nice time.  The environment was pretty, he had never been there before, and experiencing it with him helped me see things with new eyes.  We had tons of food and drinks, took pictures, sat and enjoyed each other's company in a way we hadn't in a very long time.  In other words, we kept our agreement.  

The next day was our last full day together, and it was kind of somber.  It was low-key, and while we were together, we each did our own thing - he was working on his computer and I was reading by the pool for class.  We are both writers, and I was reading one of his screenplays about his relationship with his mother.  What I read helped me to understand him a lot better, and why our relationship was so difficult.  He is always in protection mode because of his past experiences.  He does not show who he really is, and he keeps others, including me, at arm's length.  The more I point out to him the things I don't like about him, the more he shuts me out.  The more he points things out to me what he doesn't like about me, the more I push him away (refer to the italicized statement above).  

I share all this at the risk of sharing too much information about myself and this person to illustrate that our relationships - especially the ones we don't necessarily ask for - provide mirrors for self-reflection.  After the trip, I sent him a text with a nugget of wisdom I heard from Iyanla Vanzant, a spiritual guide who has a show on the OWN channel.  She said, "The deeper you fall in love, the more unloving you will behave."  His response?  "Yeah that sounds like you."  My response?  "You too! We are mirrors for each other."

One of the most influential people in my life, a professor in my counselor education program, once told me that we are mirrors for each other.  That statement opened my eyes and helped me understand my relationships.  We are drawn to those who are like us at the soul level, whether we like it or not.  And we are drawn to each other because we need that mirror to show us what we need to change about ourselves.  

It is the brave one who can look in the mirror and be completely honest about what needs to change.  It is the courageous one who will not behave unlovingly towards the one who serves as a mirror.  When we are unloving towards each other, we are unloving towards ourselves.  Look at the person who serves as a mirror in your life and say, "Thank you.  I love you for showing me, me."  And do the work so that the next time you look in the mirror, you absolutely love what you see.  

What IS Love, Really?

Courtesy of ghank.com

Love.  We all talk about it, think about it, sing about it, write about it, dream about it.  It is something that we all believe we have experienced.  I love my mother, I love children, I love my job, I love shoes, I love pizza.  We use the term love to express admiration, care, respect, connection; any emotion that is positive, really.  But do we really know what love is?

I had been pondering this question for awhile because of a recent experience.  It actually goes back months, maybe even years.  For many years I had shut down emotionally because of several losses I'd experienced, and it got to the point where I felt nothing.  Then someone I had known for almost my whole life came back into the picture.  As soon as I would use my best "put your guard up" techniques, he went to work dismantling them.  I was in shock and taken aback because he didn't take what I said at face value and walk away, like many had done before, and like I was secretly hoping he would do so that I could blame him for not wanting to develop a relationship with me (like I had done many times before).  I'm a talker, and sometimes I would just have to be quiet and process what was happening.  This person was not accepting my emotional unavailability.  He was forcing me to be uncomfortable with my comfort zone.

Throughout the years, we went through good times and bad times.  In the good times, I felt very much at home and safe.  In the bad times, I felt angry, taken for granted, and taken advantage of.  If I shared details, you would probably agree that many times those negative feelings were justified.  However, that doesn't really matter.  What matters is that I was actually feeling something.  When I woke up one morning after months of stomach aches that I attributed to anxiety and fear and realized, "I love him", the fear and the anxious stomach aches went away and I felt peace.  It was never easy with him, but I was actually feeling, and for some reason, that gave me great joy.

The last time I saw him, I had pretty much decided that there was no future for us.  I spent a lot of time lashing out at him, telling him that he was incapable of loving me, and eventually the words (that I tried to hold back even as they were tumbling out) "I hate you" came out of my mouth.  I'm not gonna lie, I'd had a couple of drinks and hadn't eaten, but that still doesn't justify those words.  After I realized that my words helped end my marriage many years ago and were now going to end this relationship, I started to cry as if someone died.  I went to the person who I'd just said "I hate you" to, and he held me while I cried uncontrollably.  He just held me and let me cry for what seemed like the longest time.  Then I said to him, "I love you more than anyone I've ever loved".  It was then we both agreed that there is a very thin line between love and hate, and within that line dwell our deepest fears about being abandoned and rejected.

I left that particular exchange wondering how powerful love is; so powerful that it could turn into hate.  Then I wondered about how we use the word love and make it so trivial.  We think we know what love is.  People say that love is never hard, but I knew my experience had been difficult and challenging.  I knew that anyone who could hold me after I had told them "I hate you" was clearly more capable of loving me at that moment than I could ever be.  I came home and thought about what the Bible says about love:

Love never gives up.
Love cares more for others than for self.
Love doesn't want what it doesn't have.
Love doesn't strut,
Doesn't have a swelled head,
Doesn't force itself on others,
Isn't always "me first,"
Doesn't fly off the handle,
Doesn't keep score of the sins of others,
Doesn't revel when others grovel,
Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
Puts up with anything,
Trusts God always,
Always looks for the best,
Never looks back,
But keeps going to the end.
Love never dies.

- 1 Corinthians 13: 4-8 ("The Message" version)

After all these years of not allowing myself to feel, I learned what love really is from being in this very hard, very emotionally challenging relationship.  I wanted what I thought I deserved (because of my "swelled head").  I kept score and very eloquently relayed all the details of his wrongs.  I forced my way of doing things on him, and when he wouldn't accept them, threatened him many times with "losing me".  And God knows I flew off the handle.

So how can I say that I learned what love really is?  Because I did all of the things love is NOT, and he accepted me anyway.

To be continued...

"Good" versus "Good Enough"

It's been a little while since I wrote on the topic of relationships.

Perhaps it's because I allowed the disillusionment and disappointment that has developed over the past three years to shut my heart up, nice and tight.  The wall that comes down little by little when someone works his way into your heart also goes back up little by little, practically unnoticed, with each promise that is unkept, each word that is not followed up with action.

I struggled over the past three years on and off in a relationship with someone who claimed to love me, but couldn't seem to do anything about it.  I've written about him in various posts, often in relation to some life lesson I'd learned.  The lessons were all necessary, because for many years I journeyed through life without being fully present.  My heart was closed off due to the betrayal I'd experienced as a result of divorce.  I turned  to religion and spiritually to protect me from people.  I retreated into my pain and became distrusting of all people, and I came to expect that I would be disappointed if I engaged in meaningful relationships.

Three years ago, this old friend of mine came back into my life and insisted on being a part of it.  I never saw this coming.  I could tell that he was interested in me, much as he had been when we were children, and he was just as persistent as he had been when he would ask me to be his girlfriend every day in the sixth grade.  I wasn't into it back then, but after the last few years of dealing with men who beat around the bush and couldn't commit to even a day, time and place for a date, I came to appreciate the directness with which he asked for my number and made plans to visit.  Through our phone conversations and subsequent dates, I was enjoying myself more and more.  However, I lived in constant anxiety.  We would have great times together, and I would fight it the entire way.  I was enjoying myself and telling myself that I shouldn't have been having so much fun with this person.  I told myself that the next time I saw him would be the last, because it was obvious that he wasn't good enough for me.  He wasn't as Christian as me.  He wasn't thoughtful and didn't buy me gifts.  He liked to drink and party too much. He flirted with other women.  He wore his hair in braids for God's sake!  Here I was, going to church, singing in the choir, working and building my women's leadership program to empower young women, with a Master's degree and planning on obtaining a doctorate, and I was dating an almost middle-aged man with braids?  Who sometimes wore sunglasses indoors?  Was I that desperate for male attention?  Was I settling for less?

My friends would say, "He doesn't deserve you."  "He's not good enough for you."  "He's wasting your time."  My church indoctrinated me to believe that if he wasn't "saved, sanctified, and filled with the Holy Ghost with the evidence of speaking in tongues", then I should not even let him have my phone number, much less go out on a date with him.  My mother made it clear that any man who didn't want to meet her would never be good enough for our family.  Honestly, I wasn't sure I wanted my family to meet him.  Even my little great-niece, not yet four years old when she met him, called him "The Little Boy".  Out of the mouths of babes.

Here's the thing.  He's brilliant.  He's one of the most intelligent people I know.  On top of that, he wasn't threatened by my intelligence; he was just as attracted to my brains as he was to my body.  It was the first time in a long time that I didn't feel objectified by a man.  I felt like a human being, understood and appreciated for something other than my physical appearance.  It was this person who talked about his writing with so much passion that awakened my desire to begin writing again.  It was this person who helped me work on issues that I'd refused to address.  He challenged me to stop acting like a victim and take control of my life.  He encouraged me to be myself and accept myself, the good and the bad.  In accepting myself, I realized that I needed to accept others.  Even him.  I became less judgmental and more forgiving.  I stopped measuring others' relationships with God by how often they went to church or how much they talked about God.  I started opening my eyes and allowing myself to see the world through others' perspectives, and little by little, my heart opened up as well.  I had him to thank for that, and I was grateful; so grateful that I couldn't let him go.

Throughout our entire relationship, it was clear that we were walking two different paths.  Every time I mentioned it, he reminded me that he loved me and that I knew and understood him.  I told him that it was because I knew him so well that I knew he couldn't give me what I wanted most in life - a family.  I told him that it was because I loved him so much that I couldn't ask him to do something he didn't want to do.  He told me that because I was a great woman and he didn't want to lose me, he would think about trying to give me what I wanted.  He told me that he's loved me since we met in the sixth grade, but he needed time to follow his own path before even thinking about including me in his world on a permanent basis.  In other words, he wanted me to wait for him to accomplish his goals before he would even think about the possibility of partnering with me to achieve my dream of having a family.

Eventually, I realized that I needed to let go, not because he wasn't good enough for me, as I'd previously thought, but because he wasn't good for me.  A person who is good for you wants you to achieve your goals.  A person who is good for you doesn't stop you from moving towards your deepest desires.  A person who is good for you will challenge you, yes, but will accept you,  love you, and try to understand you.  A person who is good for you will help you grow and, as a result, your heart will be open to love all people.  A person who is good for you will support you and be happy for you as you move forward, with or without him.

I struggled to let go for so long because I thought I was being guarded and judgmental, thinking he wasn't good enough for me.  For awhile, I was.  Then I realized that there was a difference between someone being  good enough for you and being good for you.  This person, who never says "I can't" when it comes to what he wants and needs, said "I can't" to a commitment with me.  When I heard those two words, I understood. In my life, I never want to partner with someone who doesn't believe he can walk this journey called life with me.  In a sense, he himself doesn't think he's good enough.  And for me, that's just not good.  Period.

The Waiting List

In May 2011, the class that entered college when I started my current job graduated.  This class inspired change on our campus; from participating in protests and rallies to becoming student leaders in residence life, student government, and cultural clubs, they literally took over the campus and turned it into a positive, more diverse environment.  However, the beginning of their senior year was fraught with emotion: elation at making it to senior year when some of their cohort didn't, sadness at the thought of leaving the place they'd called home for four years, and worry over what their future held, especially in these tough economic times.  I had grown extremely close to this class over the past four years, so I attempted to help them through the transition from college to "The Real World".

Many of these optimistic "Generation Y"-ers wanted to do something that would make a difference in the world, much as they did in college.  As college students, they raised awareness about issues affecting people around the world, studied abroad learning about healthcare and education disparities, and spent their own money donating to enterprising women in developing countries.  They applied to jobs and internships through various non-profit organizations. Throughout this process, some of them expressed their concern about not finding something right after graduation.  Some of them watched as their peers got accepted into programs or internships or got jobs.  While they attempted to support each other as a group, individually their anxiety was mounting as graduation day grew closer.

A few of these students were placed on the waiting list for positions they had interviewed for.  I received this news from them along with a mixture of hope and disappointment.  My duty as a counselor was to remain positive and tell them that they were great and would be chosen for their coveted positions.  I also attempted to convince them that, in waiting, they could rest and spend time on leisure activities or on personal growth experiences.  Of course, as they waited, I also held my breath in a figurative sense.  These students were such amazing people who brought me joy just by their mere presence and could transform the atmosphere of any room they walked into.  One by one I received emails and text messages saying, "Ms. G, I got in!"  And my response was, "Well of course you did, what did you expect?"

The "waiting list" is one of those concepts that evokes a multitude of conflicting emotions - worry and anxiety, relief and hope.  It can cause self-doubt, have us wondering why we weren't chosen first, even lead to a lowering of our standards and expectations.  The process of waiting can also be an invaluable experience.  In waiting, we can rest, recuperate, and reflect on our past experiences and what we want to take with us as we move forward in our lives.  In waiting, we are growing in the safety of a cocoon that we know, even while that very cocoon might start to become uncomfortable as we grow and transform.

I have been waiting a while for certain things in my life.  At this point, I've been "chosen" to receive some of my desires, but I'm still waiting for some to be fulfilled.  In the process of waiting, I've learned that everything I want might not be what is best for me at this particular moment.  I've learned to let go of expectations that had nothing to do with my personal values and were more learned behavior.  I've learned to accept myself for who I am while holding on to the perseverance and resilience necessary to move forward in life.  Although I still wait for some of my heart's desires, I appreciate the lessons I'm learning in the process of waiting.

Recently, I spent time with someone who I had been dating on and off for a while.  We'd both been divorced and were guarded and cautious about committing to a relationship.  I told him that, despite our strong connection, I knew we were looking for different things out of life, and I shared that I desire marriage and children.  After having time to think, he told me that, although he never considered remarrying, my desire for a family is causing him to rethink his perspective.  Of course, the process of "rethinking" for him translates into a process of waiting for me, if I so choose to.  Much like my students, the idea of waiting brings me anxiety and hope - anxiety that I might be waiting for something that might never happen, and hope that somehow, it will.

Most recently, he and I took a walk on a beautiful pier, and as I felt the breeze and listened to the waves gently rocking against the docked boats, I said to him, "This is the life I want to live."  His response: "You're living it RIGHT NOW."  Those five words put waiting into perspective for me.  I'm actually NOT waiting, I'm LIVING.  And, as all living beings do, I am growing, learning, evolving, and maturing.  So, although I might think I'm on the waiting list, in reality, I'm right where I need to be at this very moment, and I choose to enjoy it.  This moment, RIGHT NOW, was worth the wait.

Acceptance

Over the past few months, something shifted inside of me.  I thought at first that I had stopped caring, that I had given up, or maybe I went back to the comfort of not allowing myself to feel.  Not to sound cliché, but I had fallen in love, been disappointed, and attempted to move on and heal.  I threw myself into work to the point of exhaustion and made plans for my future - alone.  

I will hit a milestone birthday in three months.  Since my birthday last year, I've thought of this milestone birthday every day.  I'm not kidding.  And sometimes, I've thought about what I'd hoped I would have by this time in my life.  A husband, children, a nice home in a suburb, a stable job that I enjoyed, no financial issues.  The only thing on that list I can say I have is the stable job, which I do enjoy, although on occasion I feel like getting in my car, driving away and never coming back to work.  I've had friends whose husbands or close friends throw birthday parties in honor of this milestone.  I can say with confidence that no one is going to throw me a birthday party.  My family and closest friends are spread out in different areas of the country, and it takes about a month of planning to meet up with my friends here for a simple dinner, much less planning a party.  I'm not asking for a party; my point is that I don't have what most of my friends have at this point in their lives - a family of my own.  Which I really thought I would have.

What I do have, though, are some things I'm not sure very many of my friends or family members possess.  I have the ability to decide for myself what my life will be like going forward.  I have the ability to change my job, my living situation and my geographical location pretty much on a whim.  I have had, over the course of the eleven years that I've been separated and divorced, plenty of opportunity to reflect and grow as an individual.  I have developed self-assurance, self-sufficiency, self-esteem, and self-confidence.  I have been given the opportunity to learn how to love myself.  I am still in that process, but I recognize self-love now, and I embrace it.  

I chose to open up two years ago after being closed off to love for almost ten years.  I was emotionally unavailable and aloof.  I did not develop relationships because I didn't want people to disappoint me the way my ex-husband had.  The process of opening up was painful, and I'm still experiencing it.  Over the past two years, I have felt deep pain, but I have also felt joy and peace.  I learned that I could not expect perfection from another human being, especially if I was not perfect myself.  I learned that I could not expect someone to constantly reassure me that he would always be there, especially since I wasn't a hundred percent there myself.  I learned that in life, we don't always get what we "deserve", which could be a good or bad thing.  What we are guaranteed is a lesson that we were created to learn to help us grow and move forward in the self-actualization process.

I learned one of the most important lessons of my life over the past two years.  I learned that I had to be more accepting of people.  However, in order to be accepting of others, I learned that I had to accept myself first.  No more beating myself up or expecting perfection of myself.  I learned to accept my flaws, to work on what I needed to change, to let go of what I could not change, and to be as kind to myself as I am to others.  Self-deprecating thoughts have been replaced with self-affirmation.  I set personal goals and achieve them.  I care more about my health and personal appearance, and have actually taken the steps to do the work needed to improve in these areas.  Most importantly, I realized that the only person I had to seek approval from was myself, and only in the sense that I understand that who I am right at this moment is who God created me to be.  Because He is perfect, I know that I am no mistake.  I am exactly who I was created to be right at this moment. If that's alright with God, then it's alright with me.

I learned that I hadn't given up, or closed myself off, or stopped caring.  I merely looked at myself for who I am, and said, "I accept you."  From there, I found the freedom to accept others, and this opened up my heart to love others like never before.  And there's nothing more beautiful on this earth than to love and be loved.