Sunday, October 18, 2009

Not Okay

Today I cried in the bathroom at school, while waiting for my study partner. My mom had just called to tell me that my great Uncle Wilbur had died. While I wasn't super close to Uncle Wilbur, I loved him dearly--he had a great spirit-- and the news filled me with a sadness that then triggered many of emotions that I have been withholding over the past few months.

I hate school. Okay, that's not entirely true. I like my classes and not having to work. But I'm over constantly having to function outside of my element. When I visited DC last week, I was reminded of how happy I used to be. How happy I am capable of being. Here, I manage. Don't get me wrong, there are some people whom I have grown to adore and because of them, school is bearable. But I hate the pettiness, the feeling of being in high school again, constantly worried about who's saying what about whom, not knowing whom to trust or people's honest intentions. I hate that someone whom I thought that I could trust has fallen short of that expectation. I hate that every day I have to defend myself against our class bully (yes, in grad school). I hate that I'm not as resilient as I pretend.

Yesterday and today, two friends have asked me about my ex-boyfriend and later insinuated that I made a mistake in ending our relationship. I don't feel that way (or maybe I do and I am in denial?), but I hate that my judgment is in question. I do miss him. I read the funniest FML story the other and I emailed it to him, accepting that he wouldn't respond. I miss having a boyfriend, and dating is not something that I look forward to partaking in. But I know that I wasn't completely in love with him, and that I need to work on myself some more, before I committ to another being. I know that I made the right decision at the time. But some days, I have my doubts.

Part of me feels silly. Because I'm not even strong enough to face these challenges, which are relatively small and insignificant. But in order for me to become a stronger person, I think it's important that I acknowledge these low moments. That I try to understand why they surface. I know that I'm going to be okay. I'm just not today. And I think that that's okay.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

About a Boy

While I have yet to regain my footing on the dating scene, I will admit to liking a boy. In a I-don't-want-to-date-seriously-but-it's-nice-to-have-a-crush kind of way. If that makes any sense. This boy refers to himself as "Bear" (and here I will, too), has a closet that resembles the aftermath of a Brooks Brothers/J. Crew showdown, and is admittedly, and demonstratively, immature. So why do I like said boy, you ask. Let me to explain.

I have met guys whom I have placed in the "to wed" category within minutes of meeting. You know those guys. They are the "nice" guys. The ones who your friends want you to like, because they themselves think that he is "too nice" to take seriously. The ones sans the dramatic pasts and shady tendencies. Who call you when they say that they will, treat you real nice, and are all to happy to discuss the future . The ones who girls learn to appreciate only after they have been burned by boys who are not quite so good. I have dated many of these "nice" guys, but I've always ended up bored, frustrated, and feeling overwhelmed. While I don't exactly like "bad" boys either, I do appreciate a man with some quirks and an interesting story. Ideally, I'd like to marry a reformed not-so-nice boy who has managed to retain his quirk and charm while learning how to treat women. If only such a man existed.

Which brings me to my crush. Bear and I are classmates. I had a boyfriend when we started school, and being the judgemental whore that I am, I assumed that Bear I would be among the least likely to become friends. Seeing as how Bear represents all things preppy, white, and east Coast privileged and I am the poster child for all things preppy also but am in denial hip,Blacktina, and Southern hard-working, I didn't see what we could possible have had in common. The truth is lots. However, we barely spoke over the first few weeks. Until one night at a bar, of course, he randomly blurted out, "So, when are you going to break up with your boyfriend and date one of us?" And by us he meant himself. I, of course, ignored the rude Bear's comment and turned back to my $3 PBR, feeling shocked, annoyed, and flattered all at the same time. But Bear didn't stop there. Over the next few months he never missed an opportunity to talk about our kids, our future, and how "smokin" he thought that I was. Game running aside, somehow Bear's crazy talk has lead to us forming a quirky and fun friendship. We even made out night, but we agreed to erase it because I had just gotten out of relationship (and we agreed that rebounds are doomed) and because our school setting is not exactly conducive to exploring any type of legitimate relationship (think: high school. with 27 year olds).

I like Bear because he is a strange bird. He says the most off the wall things and the most inopportune times because he expresses himself best through awkward commentary. He claimed that I give him a disapproving look whenever I see him, before he even gets to say a word, because I anticipate him saying something inappropriate. He later admitted that I am usually warranted to give him those looks. He is in tune with his "feelings" side which is nice, because I know that when I ask for his opinion about something, he isn't just giving me a meathead perspective. He also supports my eating habits, tells me that I'm pretty, and appreciates my girl babble. And because he is immature, he does little shit--that's sometimes cute-- that I know are signs that he likes me. To top it all off, he is tall, adorable, and fine. Exactly the stuff that crushes are made of.

I doubt that anything will ever evolve between Bear and me, and I'm okay with that. Because as much as I like hanging out with him and pretending to be disgusted whenever he touches me, I have a hard time making myself vulnerable to men, especially immature men who still try to holla at 19 year old undergrad girls. I think that our quirky flirtation coupled with his tragic flaw are the stuff that great friendships make. Throw in a few too many beers and that great friendship can quickly turn into a fantastic heavy petting session. Not that anyone is trying to go there. Again. :0)

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

If I Had Know Then......

Tonight at Barnes and Noble, I read this book titled "What I Know Now" or something featuring a compilation of essays by successful women, written to their younger selves. I felt inspired to take a stab at advising my younger self.


Dear Me...in 1999,

Hi there. It's me, you in ten years. At first, I thought that I'd use this letter to warn you about all the mistakes that you are bound to make, to save you some embarrassment and heartache. But then I remembered that it is because of those missteps and setbacks that you are the woman who you have become, and so, as we often do, I changed my mind. I would tell you not to worry so much. That everything--school, your weight, and your relationships--will work out fine, but I am almost certain that you will not listen. But in the rare event that you actually set aside your internal drama and decide to listen to me, I am here to share what we have learned.

For starters, stop being so cavalier about your upcoming departure to boarding school. I understand that you are focused on getting out of Alabama and all, and that boarding school is merely a means to that oh (!) so glorious end, but you will learn more about yourself over those two years than you ever would have imagined. It will not be "just school." You'll have your ass handed to you by a Differential Calculus class (baby's first C!), twice nonetheless, meet three women who will become your sisters, and discover your own creativity and discipline. You will emerge with a sense of fragile confidence, learn to depend on others, and stop counting every calorie that passes your lips. Going away for school will be one of the smartest decisions that you have made so far, so stop being a brat because it is a big deal.

You know those thighs that you think are so monstrous? Well, I figure that now is a good time to advise you to get over your obsession with them, seeing as how they're only going to get bigger and all. You're about a buck 28 right now, but you think that you should lose ten pounds; now, you are happy to stay below 150. At times, shockingly, you won't even give a damn. Go figure. You will fully embrace your hearty appetite (haha you still love BBQ and ice cream), but learn to say no sometimes. You will become an avid runner, and your entire body will respond favorably. You will grow an inch, wear your hair curly more often, and be complimented on your smile, a lot. You'll also receive compliments on other body parts, but you'll learn to ignore them and their issuers. As hard as it is for you to believe, you will make peace with your body. There will be bad days, days when it will be painful to look in the mirror, but all in all you will conquer this battle. So buckle up, doll, because it is a bumpy ride.

Which brings me the topic in which you are probably most interested--your relationships. I'll start with your romantic ones. By now, you have already broken your first heart. In fact, you are still grappling with the aftermath of the drama that was your first breakup. What you did was low and immature, but he will forgive you before you are able to forgive yourself. Unfortunately, you will break his heart, again. You will regret losing your best friend, and he will give you the silent treatment (the worst!) for roughly four years. Surprisingly, however, you will take it like a champ and learn to move on. He will forgive you, again, (haha are you seeing a pattern?), and you will develop a beautiful friendship. So don't beat yourself up too much because it all works itself out, just like your mama said it would.

You will experience a roller coaster of emotions, staartiiiing NOW. In fact, I think this is the beginning of what the old folks refer to as "just life." You will fall in love with a young man who will show you how you should always expect to be treated. It won't work out in the long-run, partly because you'll insist on never returning to Alabama, partly because you will both move on and resolve to be friends. Regretfully, you'll lower your standards a few times and shed a few tears over men who never deserved your time, let alone your affection. You will survive, and they will forever regret losing you (or so you will tell yourself =). Eventually, you'll meet a man who restores your faith in men. But you'll let him go. Because it will be the right thing to do at the time. Or so you hope because if you're wrong, you will have just made the biggest mistake of your life. Let me back up though. Before you meet him, you will spend six years chasing your very own Mr. Big--you will be introduced to SATC in a few short years and then you'll understand what I mean--only to push him away, mere moments after snagging him. He will single-handedly cast the most influence in shaping of your outlook on relationships and yourself, as a partner; your memories of him will always be bittersweet.

Not to rain on your future's parade, but you are single. It has only been a month since you let go of said man who answered your prayers, and you are in no shape to move on. You have learned, the hard way, the virtue of patience. You're trying to make sense of it all and put it behind you, but deep down you always feared that you weren't ready for what you had. You recently started a (dream) graduate program in a horrible city, and while you've made it a point to not get caught up in the bourgeoisie-ness that is the Ivy League, you have made a promise to yourself to get some shit done this year. Partly because you know that you are capable, largely because the magnitude of your dreams warrant the effort. Unfortunately, however, fulfilling that promise has left little room and time for you to be anyone's girlfriend. When you express this concern to him, he shows you a side of himself that changes your perception of him, your relationship, and your role within it. You're forced to to be selfish, as much as it hurts you to hurt him. Occasionally, you experience bouts of anxiety that lead you to worry that you'll never really be able to connect with anyone. Fortunately, you now overcome such spells by writing, running, or turning to someone instead of drinking excessively or wallowing in self-pity, like we used to up until a few years ago. My, how we've grown up. Which brings me to those other relationships of yours--your friends.

You, lucky girl you, will acquire the best group of friends ever. The will range widely in size, race, age, and sexual orientation, but through your relationships with them, you will find comfort in your own skin. And for this you will always be indebted to them. You will meet them in school, at work, and through friends of friends. They will differ considerably, but each will play a special role in your life and inhabit a unique corner of your heart (your heart, by the way, is polygonal). Your biggest worry concerning them will be whom to choose for your bridal party (we have hope!). You will hurt two of them--and luckily they will both forgive you. You will continue to be shady and not answer the phone, but they will learn to accept that shiesty part of you. And to text the purpose of the call, if it's important. =) Outside of school, you will focus primarily on these relationships because they will be the ones that most define you as you are today and they will be the only ones, at times, that help you maintain your sanity. Your heart will break with along with theirs when things go astray in their lives. These women (and men) will hold a part of your heart with them, and you will strive to protect theirs. If there is any one piece of advice that I will give you in this area, it will be to cherish the time that you spend with these people; your conversations with them will often help you believe that there is a light, even when the end of the tunnel is not apparent.

In short, babygirl, we're okay. We're in a transitional period, but by now you will have learned how to become more comfortable with change. The first election that you will vote in will hurt your heart, but our current President is mulatto, and aaaaawesome. And his wife shops at J. Crew. You heart her, but you refuse to be trendy (you hate trendy, except when it comes to your iPhone. you love your iPhone. dammit, you are trendy.) so you downplay your adoration in public but mimic aspects of her style. Your relationships with your parents and siblings have strenghtened over the years, and you increasingly value the sanctity of home. This realization will probably influence where you take a job next year. You're trying to stop thinking about the boy who you recently kissed, but it has proven to be challenging. You feel like a schoolgirl around him, and you hate it. But not really. You like his patience, appreciate his intuit, and are thankful for the respect that he has shown you. At worst, you hope that you'll be good friends. In the meantime, you've got three more days to relax at home, an upcoming weekend in NYC with your three amigos counterparts (whom you adore. you heart these two people, tremendously. rightfully so, because they brighten most of your days.), and a 20 credit semester, job, and service project to return to next week.

In parting, I advise you to keep living outside of the box, my sweet. Also, don't be afraid to challenge others' expectations of you. Actually, feel free to (respectfully) cast them aside altogether. You already know how to think on your own, you just have to get used to listening yourself. Most importantly, don't be afraid to fuck up. Please, please get over that fear of failing, because you will--often--and those failures will thickened your skin and make you interesting. And lastly, I got an insider's scoop for us (!): the psychic above the eyebrow threading shop in DC and our classmate who reads palms both say that we will live into our 90's. So you see (because they are credible sources. duh.), our life will be too long for us to sweat the small stuff now. Let go, live, laugh, and learn, and best of luck, kiddo. I'm sure you'll make us proud.


Love,
Me

Saturday, August 15, 2009

Impossible

Recently, I went through a breakup. A breakup that happened unexpectedly, although I suspected for awhile that it was inevitable. It was my first "real" breakup, what with the returning of stuff, the updating friends and family, and the actual return to a life that was markedly different before we began dating. It was hard, draining, and evoked feelings of guilt that I haven't visited since I broke my first heart in high school. Nonetheless, it was the right thing to do, whatever that may mean.

Tonight I spent a a few hours catching up with an ex boyfriend/old friend of mine, from high school. Thankfully, I didn't break his heart and remarkably over the years we've managed to maintain a decent, although intermittent, relationship. There's always something comforting about talking to someone who knows you well, who has known you well, and still exciting to catch them up on all that has (or hasn't changed) over the years. It wasn't surprising then, when he spoke my biggest fear into existence--that a right guy for me may not exist. We agreed that I need someone who is intellectual and thoughtful and not just the product of a top-tiered school. That he should be witty, upbeat, and driven. That he should adore but not smother me and that he should be secure enough to give me the space that I need to focus on my career, goals, and life outside of him. That this guy may or may not exist because I am, apparently, a handful.

A little over a year ago, I thought that I had finally figured it all out. I knew what I wanted to do professionally, although I knew that pursuing such a goal would probably entail more school. And in turn, a move. I had finally found a guy who loved me for me and who supported me, only to watch our relationship crumble as a result of our first legitimate disagreement. While I feel like I've progressed in terms of my career, and I think I've taken big strides towards working on myself, as a whole, I am a bit disappointed that I'm not where I think I should be, romantically. Having these conversations about what I want/need are entertaining and all but holding them does not change the fact that I am single, yet again. And due to my own fault. Yet, again. It makes me wonder if I'm actually the relationship material I once thought that I was capable of being or if I'm just too impossible. Only time will tell, I guess.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

A Letter to the New Year

Dear 2009,

Our relationship is only 6 days old, but I have begun to believe in you. Normally I try to avoid the new year, "new beginning" trap. You know, that popular belief that with the start of a new year, people should renew their lives. I've always treated the start of new year as just another day, often preferring to stay at home and reflect rather than drinking as if the new year will bring about prohibition part 2 and kissing a stranger at midnight. Besides, everyone knows that the time for rebirth is in the spring.

However you, 2009, hold the promise for some real change. While you are here we will get a new (!) president, say bye bye to non-cable televsion, and hopefully begin to dig ourselves out of the shithole that we now call our economy. You will decide whether I go to graduate school or work and travel for another year. Your arrival marked the beginning of my new life with the boy. A life that has involved me moving to NC, temporarily at least, and adopting more frequent usage of the terms "we" and "us." Since you've been here I've resolved to work on curbing my insecurity, starting with a long talk with the boy that left me feeling better and more relieved than I have in a long time. I've signed up to volunteer in my new community, I'm heading to a creative writing workshop in a few hours, and I've been running regularly.

While I won't claim that you've brought me a crock of new beginnings, 2009, I will give you credit for steering me back on track. A particularly impressive feat given I had spent the past two months drowning in graduate school materials, indecision, and stress about my future. All I ask is that you send me a few reminders every now and then. When I start to doubt and stress, and end up paralyzing myself with my own thoughts. If you can do that for me, 2009, then I think that I'll be able to handle the rest.

359 More Days Yours,
Smash