Maybe I Hope

 If all goes well, my niece and I will no longer live together as of next Saturday. Even if all doesn't go well for next Saturday, my niece and I will very soon no longer live together as of the end of April. I am moving. I... bought a house. 

I am moving the needle forward, as I always - no matter how tough it seems to get - do. 

I bought a house by myself. I got the job that gave me shares. I got the job that eventually paid me enough to allow me to pay off living expenses and save at the same time. I saved. I bought a house all by my god damn self (ish). 

My former partner in marriage/family, who I spent 18 years, raised children with, and bought a house with, did help out when one of my rrsps was un useable for home buyers plan. He cut me in to some of the profits of the house that I left behind me when I left him over ten years ago. He did it with honour. It was a healthy sum that made sure this could happen. It was the sum I had in my rrsp. It was less than I would have gotten if we'd done this through the courts, but it was also all I needed.

I/We cultivated respect all these years. We get to reap the rewards of being good to each other. Our children will inherit this piece of mind and carry goodness within them. The art of being real and honest with yourself and your loved ones; it's not the easy road a lot of the time, but it's the road to internal prosperity. 

In twenty-eight days, I will be alone. I will be able to hear my own heart beat. What I want is for quiet, manageable, peace. I don't want to break down. I don't want to suffer loneliness. I want to assemble. I want to come into myself, gently and fully. 

I don't want to have big expectations that wont be met. I just want to be. 

I hope that I sculpt more. I hope that I garden. I hope that I have fun being a home decorator. I hope that I will do all those things with simple intentions and for quiet joy. I hope I do them just to hear my heart beat in those moments. Not because then I will be happy, but because doing them in that moment makes me happy. The results wont sustain me, but maybe I'll sigh contentedly when I make my coffee. 

Maybe I'll experience bliss when I swing in my hammock. Maybe I'll relish in rebellion when I bath naked in my outdoor heated bathtub. Maybe I'll make a secret oasis that feeds my soul one day at a time. 

Maybe. 

For my age

 I'm 18. My skin is taught and healthy, my eyes are bright and sparkling. I am beautiful.

I'm 25, I carry my body differently, I'm youthful and mature. I am beautiful.

I'm 30, I am a mother. I am powerful and have meaning. I am beautiful.

I'm 35, I notice a wrinkle or two but still hold the male gaze.

I'm 40, somethings different...  am I beautiful?

I'm 48, things are drooping, my skin is becoming crapy, I have a neck vagina. I am beautiful inside.

I'm 53, my thigh muscle appears to be attached to nothing, my elasticity is waving good-bye. I am beautiful for my age. 

In fact, I am not old or young. I never was. I am either here or not here. 

I'm 53 and I look at my body, my face and one genius part of me smiles. How lucky am I to get to experience being so different than I have been my entire life? 

I get to be a woman who is no longer valued, desired, sexualized, hated, envied by others. I get to be invisible to my culture as much as I want. There is a secret in there that is thrilling. 

The Science of My State

 What is this brain pathway that jumps to

• I hate the way my house looks
• My house decor is dumb
• I am not happy in this house

My house is fine, I'm sure of it. It might not be where I imagine it to be at its best, but why can it only be good when it is at its imagined best? What payoff is my brain getting by being so unsatisfied? 

Is it because I am unsatisfied with where I am in my life? Am I insatiable? 

It definitely is that thing of aspiring for a point in time in the future

• Things will be better when I live on my own
• Then my place will stay uncluttered
• Then my place will feel consistently clean
• Then I will be able to focus
• Things will be better when I own my own home
• Then I can change things to my liking
• Then I can perfect the decor

I'm sure all those things are partially true, but it's not where happiness lays necessarily.

I'm overwhelmed in my life:

• Work
• My sister
• Carl's affairs
• Holding space for my niece 
  

I can finish with Carl's affairs and get that off my plate. My sister is simply a painful truth that my heart must accept. Holding space for my niece is a choice I've made because I love her and she deserves the space I can provide. And work... well, I like my work. I think we can get through this storm we're in and come out on the other side all the better for it. It's a good challenge. 

Maybe my brain is just running old scripts and I need to reach my subconscious to let it know that those scripts are no longer providing value. We need to reprogram. Our trajectory is forward, the momentum is already there. These old scripts are weighing down the process. I will be: 

• The global director of product
• I will own my own home
• I will be able to renovate it

And none of those things will be the immaculate source of my happiness. I could have all those things and still be unsatisfied. They alone are not my happiness, but they are still things I will achieve  and they will bring about their own moments of joy.  Which is to say, regardless of the old scripts, I will still reach those things - it's just a matter of bringing along so much unnecessary friction while I move along the path. 

And, I am in a universal holding pattern right now. I have both momentum and resistance. One part of my life is moving forward while one part of my life is tethered. That's a tough place to be, but if I resist that, if I think something is wrong because I can't see the science of my state, I am bound to the frustration of thinking I'm not where I should be. I am exactly where I have chosen to be. 

I can't possibly be at that state yet because I have made choices - bound by love -  that keep me here. 

It does feel like love is missing. I do wonder about that. Will I love again? Will I meet/have a person to share my life with? Universe? Will I find a final love? I heard a yes, not sure if was wishful thinking though. 

Universe, when might I find a final love? 3 years sticks out to me.  This seems like a reasonable timeline. 2027, a final piece of the puzzle. That gives me three years to get my work done :) 

side note to self: I quietly asked, will it be d? and I heard an emphatic YES. Haha, not too sure about that, but I'm open.  

The Station

 What if this ball of knots in my stomach, that is currently sending waves of heat throughout my body, was excitement and not fear? 

What if I was actually excited by the challenged of being alone?

What if I was actually excited by the challenge of speaking up more at work?

Something is happening. There is a big shift and I'm right in the middle of it. It's like I'm at a train stop and there's not much to do but wait for the train to arrive. And not get discouraged that it will never arrive. It's hard waiting at the station. Sometimes, the sun is out and I can stand outside and get some sun. But most days, it's windy out - inhospitably - and other days it's an out-and-out rain storm. 

The train feels delayed. But there's not to do but wait. I can keep my exercise up: do squats, push-ups, jumping jacks, meditation, all in preparation for when the train arrives and I can pick up my journey to abundance and flourishing. 

But for now, it's another day in the station. Partly cloudy. 

Dream

 It was as if I had the omnipresence of a narrator. I was above him and her and could see into their 'relationship' or their date. I got a birds eye view and was... so surprised. 

They were talking about stuff that seemed so childish, like they were children, and my reaction was "oh dear, what was I thinking? Why was I pining after this very young soul?" It was so clear in that moment that we were both better off, but what I had to see clearly was that my ego was not actually hurt. I wasn't missing something. I was gaining something. It's hard to find the words. 

It was a positive, loving feeling. I could see what a young soul he was and that I had been weirdly pouting over losing something that hadn't really existed. And here he was with a an equal to him, a woman who was not more, not better than me, but very, very different. Not someone I was "out done by." 

I had been torturing  myself that my 'replacement' was younger, prettier, smarter and stronger that me. But what I saw was that they were two very young souls. And I was happy for him that he wasn't with someone that was always 10 (or 50) steps ahead of him. And that it wasn't about me being less than enough. I was enough. I was, perhaps, a bit too much.

My ego. Oh boy. This is my lesson (again). It walks around convincing me I'm never enough. My inner critic. It was a gift to have that dream. It was a gift to wake up enough that I could record and it remember it clearly. It was a gift to see him happy in a way I could be happy for him. 

It also had an under-knowing that all the time he spent with me had prepared him, given him extra insights, so that he could engage better in conversation, and I was happy about that too. 

I've been calm since having that dream. As it fades, I hear my ego trying to hook me into the pain of being the loser again and I really don't want to go back there. I have so many strong, positive opportunities ahead of me that require my attention and focus to complete the lesson; whatever that may be, I am open. 

Roar

 I feel calmer. I think I understand better what is going on for me: I can see a truth of what he's doing that he can't or won't. So, when he talks to me, he talks to me from a place of dishonesty. It's a place he needs to be in for the world to make sense to him, but he has to gaslight me in process, "everything's fine, nothings changed, we just don't hold hands anymore, silly you...." 

But in fact, he has become selfish as part of his growth and survival, which is reasonable and likely necessary . Therefore, he is not a place that I can trust my heart with. Therefore I must stop putting my heart in his hands. Therefore, what we loved about each other is deconstructed. From this point on, he is not someone I can trust with my most intimate thoughts and most intimate self, which is the part of me that he values... as a friend. And this is the part he is lying to himself about. He's telling me I can still trust him, nothing has changed. And that is infuriating. 

But I trust that he doesn't know this. He doesn't know it about himself or us. And I don't trust that I want to hear the finality of his understanding this from his mouth, not right now. I'm grieving us. I don't need to pour salt on the wound. 

He's gone into checklist mode, and if he can't access his true love for me - which was the box I ticked for him - there's not a lot of other boxes I check off on his superficial checklist. He loved me despite the boxes I didn't tick. Without accessing that (non romantic, but deeply human) love, I don't believe he will find that we are the friends he thought we could be. I'm not sure he knows how to like me as I am. 

It's a very strange thing we are tethered by, I do not profess to understand it. All I know is that my body, my heart, feels it. And I don't like to fool myself. I prefer to honour it, for better or for worse. 

But I will continue to be his friend again eventually. In some fashion or another. I will be there for him. For some reason, I feel strongly about not abandoning him. I think there will come a time where he will need the piece of me that, for now, he must shut out. And in my heart of all things good, I've made a commitment to his honest spirit self, but when it is ready, true, and open. Not when it is in destruct mode. 

People need to go into these modes. It's part of life, but when they do, you step out of the way. 

The only part of this that bothers me is that I can't imagine, yet,  who I will be when that time comes and what I would need from him to be able to give him that piece of me again. Although, if I'm honest, I think I have a slight inkling of what it is I can't imagine him every getting there, or getting back there. 

These are things I cannot know. But what I have learned from all of this is that I don't know and/or trust my value. This is true in my relationship with him, at work, and with friends. If I am not being my most perfect self, I do not have value. For him, it's things like: 

• doesn't smoke (vape)
• doesn't drink
• has nice body and attractive face
• is feminine in nature only: sweet, cute, sexy, soft
• works out, is physical
• is smart, strong
• is clean within an inch of their life (no human smells)

I believe this is his checklist, and I only hit one of these: smart and strong. In our relationship, I allowed my knowledge of what I believe his checklist to be to wear down my smart and strong. I focused my doubts about all the other 99% of boxes I didn't tick. So, I spent unsustainable effort trying to edit myself to be someone he could love. As such, things that I wanted to do for me like: work out, be physical, has nice body, doesn't drink, doesn't vape turned into things that I wasn't doing for me but only for him so that he would love me.

And then when I asked him to move out, I swung some of these to the other side of the pendulum and tried to explore my less feminine self  by cutting off my hair and wearing less sexy clothes. I actually have no idea what I like right now or who I am, what I like about me and that whatever that is, it is enough and worthy of love. 

I do some of this at work to. I should wear this, I shouldn't wear that. I shouldn't speak up, I don't have the right answer, I'm too stupid, I don't know business, I'm too old, I look too tired. 

This is such a big hurdle for me. 

And then there's my sexuality. In the beginning, he awoke something in me that I didn't know was accessible. Unfortunately, once he unlocked it, his appetite for it was insatiable so I ended up rolling her back in.  And then there was the everybody dying thing, not to mention menopause,  and him seeing behind the curtain of my feminine warrior taking what she wants, which was me knitting on the couch for hours while sipping wine and vaping. And then I saw that through his eyes and couldn't access the sexy warrior part of me because the gig was up, he saw the other part of me. And he couldn't make love to the wino vaping knitter with a saggy neck. So then my value became the part I played in bed, sexy warrior princess queen. 

GOD DAMN IT.  We ruined everything. ugh. 

I started taking hormones after he moved out. I was beginning the process of taking care of myself. The depression was deep, I was struggling. And now, guess what, sexy warrior queen is knocking at the god damn door asking to come out and play. My mind revisits our adventures and she wants to fucking devour him piece by piece. She wants to make him whimper and delight in his undoing. But then, that's how we got into this mess, so I have to tell her no. She's a bit mad about that. 

He needs to stay far, far away from me. She's very cunning and I should learn how to harness her energy and put that strength into my career.

Strength, Heart (Kindness), Trust, & Clever Sarcasm

 Hell hath no fury... 

I am 53 and for the last eight years I have been in varying degrees of a  relationship with a man 17 years younger than me. At first, he was a fire that inflamed my body, it was a chemical reaction I had to him that still leaves me a bit baffled. It was as if I had no option, he was my kin, my person. 

For a few years, he was my exciting lover. Then we moved in together and became family. Sex started to feel routine and less exciting, but the bond grew. 

A lot of the time, I did tire of his lack of experience and wisdom, it was a lot of effort on my part. But we went forward as a conventional relationship for the next 5 years. Eventually, we slept in separate bedrooms which was a blessing and stretched our time together out. But then, after my mother passed away and age being that creeping thing that it is, life began to take it's toll on me. 

When my niece needed a place to live, it was almost a relief. We'd been talking about moving apart from each other. We were both stuck. And I felt he was only clinging to our relationship for security but that he wasn't really happy. It's possible I projected that. However, if I trust my intuition, I am correct. 

So just over a year ago, he moved out and my niece moved in. It was a relief for me to have space. Apparently, it wasn't a relief for him at first and he mourned our relationship, he left me. 

I did not leave him. 

For me, we were still just sleeping in separate bedrooms, they were just also in separate places. 

We continued to spend lot's of time together going for regular walks, kayaking, the occasional movie, dinners. 

Throughout all of this, I am adjusting to my niece living with me, mourning my mother, and trying to lift the spirits of her grieving husband, and trying to find success/fulfillment at my job. As all this hard, heavy stuff is happening, I'm actually climbing the ladder at work until I'm the head of product - along side a VP of Tech that is a... over-confident leader and who leads by injecting fear and then patting your back to tell you it's okay, he's got you. 

My stress levels at work with his presence have sky rocketed. The only saving grace is that our new CEO (because we're in the middle of merging 3 companies) is a genuine, objective, smart, wise, person. But I'm hanging be a god damn thread. 

In February - just over a month ago - I went to my mom's husbands house to drive him to an appointment. I had to let myself in when he didn't answer, at which point, you guessed it, I found him deceased on the couch. There was a whole horrible 911 call where I was instructed to give him mouth to mouth and only I could see he had been dead way to long for that (I still want to vomit when I recall it. I should really go to therapy about this). 

In between my mom passing and then her husband, a good friend of mine also died. People seemed to just be dropping. 

My relationship with my former lover and housemate and current slightly more than friends companion became one of the only spots of light I had for just me. I started to move closer to him in my heart again. We'd had enough distance that I could see him again. I had enough space to  ugly grieve and not be self conscious, that when we did spend time together, I was more present. However, it was still peppered with moments of his lack of maturity where I would think to myself "ugh, this is not going to work."

He started dating someone recently. I knew I couldn't be that kind of partner for him, so in a world where I truly loved him, I accepted this, was kind of happy that he could have a fling. It was okay because he was still my best friend and me his. We held hands on walks, he would put his arm around me and bring me in. We both went travelling last fall and met up in Greece, we made love one of those nights. 

On St. Patricks day, I had the unfortunate opportunity to watch him walk by while he was on date with this new person. This person that he had told me repeatedly "didn't matter" and that if she ever asked him to not be friends with me, he would say "sorry, that's not going to happen" and would end the situation-ship if she couldn't accept it. But when I saw him look at her, my stomach violently knew that I had lost him as the friends I understood we were: casual, intimate partners in life. 

So, even though just weeks before that, I could and probably did have thoughts of "ugh, I love this man but this is unfulfilling,"  I was suddenly wrecked with sadness that he was gone. BUT! there was hope, I would talk to him about this and we would make it okay. He would tell me that he loved me, that this was nothing in the grand scheme of things - maybe even that he would stop seeing her if it caused me too much grief. He did not say these things though. Instead, he said, and I am paraphrasing, "she doesn't mean anything to him, but that also, he wasn't attracted to me either... not in the same way anymore. But he still wanted to be friends. He agreed the handholding was misleading and he apologized for that."

My god... my god! When I tell you that my ego turned red hot, I mean I was (am) the earth's magma ready to reign fire upon the earth. 

Five days since this revealing conversation and I am mad as hell. A week before this revealing conversation (which, I will add, included phrases like "I'm sorry, but your age is not working in your favour"), we were talking about going to Hawaii together. I felt like an absolute IDIOT. And, an ugly one at that. What was I thinking!! Jesus Christ! Oh my god!

Last night, in the privacy of my home, I let it all out. We'd been talking over text, sorting out what  the boundaries of our friendship could be. Neither of us want to be out of each other's lives, how might we salvage this? He said I was as important to him as his life long male friends and that that's how he saw now me, a life long pal. BUT... that's not what we've been being. 

Last night, I smashed the sculpture I had made for him when we were first together. I fucking threw that thing (and a number of other things). This is a level of outrage that I never engage in. I am calm. I have seen so much in my life now and I have chosen mature wisdom over reaction for so long now. When people throw their bad behaviour at me, I catch it and then release it. I don't judge them, I have empathy for their struggle. I aspire to be the monk at the top of the hill.

But the bottom fell out last night. Now, after a small amount of sleep and snippets of meditation attempts to focus my life's intentions, I think I realize that it's the deep gaslighting that is lighting the fire the most. And by deep gas lighting, I think I mean that he's gaslighting himself first and then me by proxy. 

If I trust my intuition, he loves me much more than he knows or is letting himself know. This has been made easier by my always being close at hand to spend time with, the lack of my presence has never challenged him. 

Don't let that statement fool you. I don't think he's coming back to beg forgiveness. And if he did, I'm not sure it would feel right for me to lead him on - because I'm not even sure how attracted I am to him. Intelligence wise, he's not attractive to me as a partner. Physically, I am not attractive to him. However, there's still the elephant in the room that I believe - in my gut of guts -  is real, we both deeply love each other just a bit more than pals. And this is an un-had conversation that hangs in my ether, and the energy of it is the lava at my core. 

So I smashed the sculpture and put in the box of his things. He broke my heart, I broke his sculpture. I want to give the pieces of it to him, but I know it's juvenile and will just make me look pathetic, but I still want him to see it. I want him to throw it away. I imagine it goes down like this: 

He opens the box and his dismay is evident. He almost feels sorry for me but is also embarrassed for me. 

"Why did you do this?" he asks

"You broke my heart, I guess I wanted you to see that in physical reality" I reply with a casual shrug. "Also, it might have felt fitting if you were the one to throw it out" I smile. 

"I still want us to be friends (friends defined as: like he is with his male friends, 'he doesn't hold hands with them, so this is a new boundary for us)" he says, despite my hurtful childishness 

"Mmhmm" I say, lips pursed

"I'll give you some space" he says, "when might I see you again?" 

"Well, how often would you say you hang out with your friend "x" or "y" 1 on 1," I ask. I know this answer and it's once every few months or so. 

"I don't know, once a month or so?" he says. 

"Let's go with that then shall we?" 

I hold back from adding a patronizing "Champ" to the end of that and patting his shoulder in farewell. On this one, I try to add a bit more composure. 

He nods and, unceremoniously, exits stage left. That's it. He's disappointed in me and I'm slightly humiliated. 

Just like when I first met him and thought it was insane to be in a relationship but yet I couldn't fight it, my body was a magnet. There is something very similar in this situation. I'll add that it feels unfair to both of us to be so attracted to each other's spirits when all other pieces wont quite align. In this, he's right to call it off. His timing and lack of personal insights, unfortunately for us, couldn't have been worse. 

My loved ones are now dying or dead, my sister is months away from dying as a result of addiction and lifestyle (and I'll have to console her daughter whom I care for). I have a ass-hat that I work with that I NEVER stand up to. And I've been the most understanding person to everyone ever "so patient, so kind". 

Something has go to give, and when it does I hope that I've properly tuned into the right frequencies and that they have my back. I hope that my heart is good and true, that I have strength, and should my sarcasm arise - and it will - it is clever. It shouldn't cut, it should leaven. 

Honestly, I don't know who, if anyone, will see my wrath. But it's there, it's palpable. They may not see it, but it will be hard not to feel it. 

I just don't know if it's actually healthy anymore for me to wrap up my rage in a pretty, polite box anymore.

Case in point: The brother of the man that sexually abused me as a child, randomly called me the other day to give condolences for aforementioned dead man on couch and inquire about funeral arrangements. I have never spoken to his man and I have zero contact with that family (although my younger sister is his niece, so there's always proximity). Again, the magma in me rose to the surface at the sound of his voice, which is so similar  to his brothers. I heard the badge of honour say "be polite, no sense in being rude" 

but what did rude mean in this situation. I did not want this man to speak to me, the trigger is so visceral. I just wanted to tell him I did not wish to speak to him and that he could call his neice for  details. 

In this moment, I made the choice to not be polite anymore. I said what my heart wanted to say. I stood up for myself and spoke my truth. He had the weird audacity to respond with "so you're saying you never want me to call you...?" like it was a threat that I would back down from. I replied, "that's right" and hung up. 

Can you see how engrained being polite is in me? Forgiving transgressions against me over and over again. How do I stop this while maintaining my highest self?  

How do I honour my rage? 

My friend and I could easily slide into friends. I don't know why I'm rebuking this so much. Other than, I feel betrayed. 

Sweet Magic

I'm in the middle of sadness, which is made possible by yearning and loneliness I think. My hormones are invigorated and longing for love has returned. A deep companionship is what my feelers are reaching for. Reaching for that person who might be my enduring love. A quite and fulfilling meeting of spirit, hearts, and minds. 

I find I hope for someone who is just that much more at peace with their - sobriety towards life - that they can catch me when mine falls. Someone who can help me fill my cup and maybe doesn't need theirs filled by me. Really, I just want to be held sometimes. Held enough that I can share the load and take a rest without having to provide sex in return. A partner that can truly see me and seeks only to feel their love towards me - whatever my heart, soul, body can offer. That love me for free. A friend at my back, a lover at my side, a steward to my future. A kindness with the strength of wit and fortitude. Somebody who I am not at risk of falling out of love with and they not at risk of falling out of love with me. In return, I will see and love them, provide for them where and when I can, and never take advantage of the strength they offer. I will create a home of warmth and kindness. I wont be afraid to get my hands dirty and help. I will take responsibility for my own happiness and leave space for them to do the same for themselves.

If this person does not exist, than I must let go and express desire through meditation. I must trust that the wind has my back, that nature is at my side, and timing and preparedness will champion my future - and that I will love all these things for free. I will breath in and breath out,  returning the clean energy to those that come after me. 

I will ask for sweet magic to draw on my back, to kiss me, to play with my hair, to talk till we fall asleep, to build a life that satiates longing.

Back to Life

 The trip is over. I need to kill fifteen minutes before my next meeting. So, here we are. 

I'm in an odd state with jet lag affecting me more than ever. I have not been able to get my nights straight and can't seem to stay awake past seven which has me awake at three. Buh. 

I'm very officially back at work today, Monday. It's so unfortunate that it is the way it is right now. I don't look forward to the mess and the making sense of the mess of people. But this is very much what needs to be done right now - and there are so fucking many cooks in this kitchen. I get exhausted as soon as the smallest thought about it all enters into my head. I

It's sad. A place I used to love so much is just a haunted reminder of a thing that is gone. 

Five days later? 

Wish You Were here is singing from my TV via Spotify. Of course, I think of you Jimmy. How dreamy we were, or was it just the time that was dreamy. You and I couldn't have been more unalike. This album, for all the time it played in the background while we slept, reminds me most of that time it was my birthday and your roommates birthday. You all threw a party for him, and you, for the first time I was aware of, cheated on me right in front of me. Do you remember? I imagine you don't, if for no other reason than you were drunk. I walked in the bedroom while you and your not girlfriend were having a lover's quarrel. I politely said "excuse me, I just want to get my coat." You both, politely?, waited for me to leave before you resumed. How excruciatingly awkward. Her name was Honour, of all things, and she was everything I was not.  

I'm the kind of revenge seeker that requires absolute proof, and I will wait ever so patiently for it. I didn't call you out on anything in the moment because you could have provided some weak denial that gaslit me just enough. Plausible doubt. So, I waited. Who knows when I had stopped drinking - in a sea of drunk 17-19 year olds living like it was their last night on earth, and they were going to take it down with ferocious intent - I was stone sober as I waited for the moment of absolute proof. 

I stayed in the background. Nobody even talked to me, all these people that were supposedly my friends too. I was an actual ghost watching a movie. I was the representation of kind, soft, and good and nobody wants to see when their invested in debauchery, jagged, and bad. So, I quietly trailed behind everyone as the party moved from your house to... somewhere I never ended up. I walked behind you and Honour. You were laughing and signing. I waited for any transgression. You had no clue or desire to know where I was. 

And then your and Honour's hands joined, the lovers. We were at the corner of Fernwood and Bay St by this time, a stones throw away from the apartment I lived in with my kind, soft, and good mother. I can still see this image, this night, so clearly in my minds eye. 

"JIMMY!!!" your name came out of my mouth as a deeply vile screech. I screamed at you from the bottom of my broken heart. You let go of her hand and slid into a bush (of all things to do) so as not to meet my eyes. Drunk and ridiculous. 

I don't know what I screamed after that, but I screamed and ran away from you for fucking ever and ever. It was the weekend of your roommates birthday, which was two days before mine. It was my actual birthday. The year, the night, I turned sixteen. 

But, it wasn't forever and ever, was it? No, it was just the beginning. And now, here I am and there you are. Will you survive? Have you survived? Or are you dead somewhere as I type this? Why is Wish You Were Here playing on my TV? 

Back to life this post is titled. As if I ever left it. All these years later and I'm still the kind, soft, and good person. The one that seems so kind they must be naive. But I never was, I just knew exactly what I wanted. Or, exactly what I didn't want. I didn't want you, not the life you lead. Not the life my future and later husband of twenty years lead. 

I remember my sixteenth birthday fondly. I remember you with a wry smile, silly Jimmy, cheating on me. I love that I got to be a ghost on that night. I loved watching you all when you refused to see me. I'm sure it hurt more at the time, but still I'm sure I remember a small part of me delighting in watching my life unfold in real time and the fact that I got to be so clearly present for it. Ahh, what a gift. 

To this day, I don't know what drew us together or why I still feel connected to you, like we were meant to be but we just got it wrong in this lifetime. You weren't ready to settle down on a farm and have babies, so that was that. I went off and became a professional in the tech world. 

Remember last year when I drove past you at a bus station. I called out your name. You had a hood on and I couldn't be sure it was you, but somehow I knew that body. You looked and called out my name, "is that you" you asked. "Yes!" I felt that answer inside me more than anything. Yes, it's the me that you knew all those years ago, I'm still here as if you were the only person who ever really and truly knew me and now, you could see me too. 

I cried as a I drove away, cried with  a mix of joy and sadness. My name on your tongue - is that you - trailing after. Yes, it's me and it's you, too. 

Day 16, Portugal (to Greece): Take the Stairs

 It’s my last day with my friend. Last night two of her friends joined us and it was a celebration. 

How fun to be across the world and have two other friends drive up as if meeting for coffee across the world. How lovely. 

But how drinky they were. How very drunk they got. How very in excess they felt. A gluten of laughter and wine - I wanted to apologize for the laughter and the space they were taking up, these ladies of life. 

To my surprise, every server we had thanked them for brining this energy and said, “Please come back! We love how much you are enjoying yourselves.” 

I find happiness for them, but it is not my life. This trip has shown me grace in appreciating the nature of my biological make-up. My nature (vs nurture).

My body wakes up early, so I curate a life that makes sure I find that agreeable. I don’t fight it by forcing myself to live a life that compromises feeling at my best when my body comes to life.

I’ve seen on this trip the choices I made early on that, appeared to me to be, unpopular or boring, and I’ve seen - appreciated - that I was brave enough to make them anyways. I thank younger me for trusting my intuition on what was best for me. 

A thought came to mind today: Those that lack the burden of wisdom and accountability for themselves in this world are the privileged. 

Today’s people of tomorrow talk a lot about privilege. Like a number of other mistakes in their language of choice, they are wrong in how they see privilege. They would see me as privileged, yet I carried the burden of knowing nobody was going to do a god damn thing for me. They would have let me die on the streets if that was the choice I made. It doesn’t really matter how pretty that street is,  how pretty your deathbed is or is not, death is death. To wake up and understand with the grace of surrender and learn that you and you are alone are accountable to you is the accomplishment of a lifetime and not easily won. 

Sure there are those that are born into a different type of privilege, such as money, but I can imagine that their life’s pain is relative. We all struggle with connection to a life lived well. 

I don’t live a life of privilege. I am well because I life a life aligned to my highest nature. That is not a privilege, it is the name of the game. It is what I am supposed to do. It is… my job.  

My dream right before waking up today was me getting into an elevator. On that elevator was a man, probably my age, he had a husky, strong frame but looked like a easy going traveller type, casual business like. The door closed and he said, “What would you ask of me?”

Surprised, I responded curiously, “Sorry?” 

“We keep crossing paths,” he said, “there must be a reason for it, what is it that I can do for you?”

I found him interesting, intriguing. I had a delighted cosmic smile and I entertained his idea. He did look familiar perhaps? 

Then he moved towards me, I can recall is thin, navy blue puffy jacket with some white insignia on the left breast. He was tall and obviously stronger than me. He cornered me and said, although we had not met before, “I will call you…. [my name]” as he cornered me, as if he was my destiny. 

In the dream, in the elevator, I said, “oh fuck”

It was then I realized I hadn’t pressed the button for the floor I needed and that he had pressed the floor -1. As we arrived at that floor,  he pressed the stop button. I was stuck. 

I made a move under his arm to not be cornered, but I was still caged so he just calmly turned around, knowing he had his prey, and began to unbutton his pants. He knew what he wanted from me… and I knew he was going to shove that thing in my mouth.

I wasn’t so scared though. I began to press at my Apple Watch, trying to trigger the emergency function while wondering if we were down to low in this elevator to have service. And if there was no service, my brain was doing the math and I just calmly acknowledged the probability of outcomes with, “fuck…” because I knew the worst case scenario was that I going to endure yet another asshole fucking me - and that I would survive it. 

I don’t know quite what to make of this message. I did wake up with a big mental note of being aware of my surroundings (had he been following me around? How did he know my name so that he could pose as my cosmic destiny) and - at the very least - not taking any elevators.  Also, perhaps a gentle reminder that no man (or - no one, no other ) will be the key to my destiny. That’s a lie. 

Day 14 & 15, Portugal

 I don’t have much to say, this trip has been a pretty perfect adventure, and here’s to it staying that way. Today we head on to Lisbon where I’ll have my last two days my friend before I head to Greece. It’s been a very lovely travel time. We’ve been well suited travel buddies. 

The question for me is how much is this improving my headspace work stress wise? It’s been very nice to be away from the chaos. As in an infinite amount of very’s. I’m not sure my brain has completely returned to something sustainable, the looming return to chaos is ever present, but I’m not worried about it. It just exhausts me in advance.

It’s day fifteen now, the next day. I fly to Greece tomorrow and my inner brain knows that this leg of the journey is coming to an end and I’m grateful. I can’t wait to be in once place for more than two days. 

My friend has two of her friends joining her today, so I will be with them for one night and, man-oh-man, am I projecting a lot of nervous anticipation. Their energy together is very frenetic. It’s an energy that sets off all my alarm bells. I cannot relax around it. So, my last night, I’m afraid, will be one of high alert.

Also, for funsies, while pulling my suitcase off the overhead bin on the train, I dropped it on my face, my occipital bone to be exact. So I have an eye headache, swelling and bruising. Very light, but sore nonetheless. Oh, to be in that little house by the beach with, hopefully, sun and heat. And to be with my friend who’s quiet and contained - not frenetic, not unpredictable. 

So far on this trip, we have drank a lot of wine and eaten, and I’ve enjoyed it. It’s been low key for the most part with a couple of nights of excess, but in a good way. The two that are coming have a history of way more excess then I’m used too. I’m hoping they’ve matured a bit more on the hard core drinking and the night is somewhat chill. 

When I’m in Greece, the drinking will return to a single class of wine at night for me with lot’s of walking/hiking during the day. Healthy stuff. Nice easy pace. Calm. 

Day 9

 From Paris, to Barcelona, to Madrid, and now Granada, all in nine days. I have two more days in Spain and then we’re off to Portugal for four days, and then I fly over to Greece for another five days. It should be hotter there, which will be welcome

Being on “vacation” is such a busy thing. So this is not a vacation, it’s a trip. These are different things.

There’s not a lot of time to think and reflect on a trip, it’s just hustle, bustle, with a combo of intense alert and then relief when you’re at your bnb. Hopefully, now that we’re in smaller towns, this will relax. The big cities were… big. 

So what do I think? I talked with my daughter, who is house/niece sitting, and she said, “you have a hard life” referring mostly to my niece. I do have a hard life and I suppose I make it look easy. Stressful work all day and compartmentalizing my nieces well being (or lack there of). After years of  service for my family, I have grown a muscle that doesn’t even question “the load” I carry. That’s the same for all/most mothers (and/or full time, hands-on parents). That’s life and I’m grateful for it.

I can’t wait to see my friend-in-life in Greece. He feels like home and that makes me question things too. I think it’s been good that we stopped living together, certainly with adding my niece into the mix, but I’m starting to see a bit more clearly how he fits into my life. 

I do find myself longing for a romantic type of relationship - and that is not him and I at this point - but I am questioning what that means now as I long to just be comfortable with him. Him who I can be myself with. I just want to see him and hug him. 

When I return, nothing will have changed.  I will be walking into the same chaos, sitting on my couch at night, knitting my way back to calm. That’s not such a bad thing, I think? 

What would I like? I would like build my own software, own my work more, and make a good living with people that I love. Set the pace of the work to something gentle, creative, and helpful. 

Not At Work

 This morning has me waking up in Madrid. I’m travelling with one of my oldest friends. We’ve never travelled together before and I think we’re pretty good as of eight day. We have six days left and 3 more places: Granada, Seville, and Lisbon. Our feet are killing us, we’ve walked an average of 10k every day, which is solid but not shocking. We walk, we see, we stop to eat/drink and then walk some more. 

The weirdness of not being home and being with someone you don’t spend a a lot of time with day to day is setting in. I find myself wondering if her tone is showing her annoyance with me. The kind of annoyed that I think people get and I don’t care, because it’s them that is annoyed, not me. And I think my not caring about who I am makes it more annoying. 

I mean, I can see/feel their annoying things too, but I don’t say snarky things. But some people need to express their shit in this way. It’s taken me a very long time to understand that it’s not a me thing. 

What I need to remind myself of most of all is not letting this bring me down for one second, because I’m on vacation - I need this vacation. I need to embrace everyday that I am not working 

I’m so glad to not be working, it’s become such a tense environment when it doesn’t need to be. Our VP of tech is driving me the most nuts. Again (as in, yet another leader that doesn’t understand), he doesn’t understand the platform well and he consistently calls it a piece of shit. There is a reason our platform was selected as the main system, because it’s got the best foundation and logic, but he can’t see this. AND he actually cites how the other systems are better than ours. Ugh. 

And then we have the new “product advisor” from the investor side and he’s positive as shit about how “exciting this is” and it is. He’s not wrong. But he’s also in a bubble with the VP and I can’t tell how impactful this may or may not be. 

Furthermore, I don’t feel I’m showing up as a “leader” like I should be? But I also don’t want this, not in the way that it’s unfolding right now. I want a good product that our customers can use effortlessly. So, I know what rooms I need to be in. I need to be building this team - and apparently get overlooked in the process - maybe? I just don’t know how to be a person that advocates for recognition. But I also think there is a better way to do it then forcing myself in the rooms of men where I haven’t been invited exactly. 

I hope that my friend and I can actually build something. I had a good idea that I shared before the vacation, I hope she’s excited enough about it to look into it more while I’m gone. How wonderful would it be for both of us to be back in product together, her with the business acumen and me with the product and people skills, both of us doing what we enjoy and having security and a voice.  What a marvellous future for us both.  

I wonder what today will bring for my friend and I.  I think we’re both getting tired. I hope it’s smooth and lovely. I want to push the energy around to make room for smooth and lovely. 

I also look forward to meeting up with my other dearest friend in six days. There I will feel at home with him. There we will be at home in Greece. 

Feel the fear and do it anyways

 I feel fear. If I'm to stay out of my mind and focus on what's going on in my body, I'm afraid. 

I'm afraid of the bubble I'm currently in bursting and I'm afraid it wont burst. 

I'm afraid of not feeling content with my life situation or my life. I'm afraid I will never be able to experience generalized joy. That I will only maintain generalized anxiety. 

I'm afraid this feeling of fear will never go away. That I will always feel like I'm under achieving to my responsibilities of being a mother, an aunt, an employee, a person, a citizen, and a friend.

I think this writing is not to figure out the why of this, but just to be honest with myself that these are my feelings (thoughts?).

I am afraid.

The Balance Formula

The life:effort formula for balance: 

 90% personal experience and growth, 10% societal machine (work); where 10% returns >= 10x of itself.

It appears I might be killing it at work? I don't know what to make of this. Well, some part of me doesn't know what to make of it. The rationale part of me just wants to nod and say "great, let's keep going" while another part wants to ruminate about how this could be possible. How can I be the director of product and be killing it???? That does not fit the narrative. 

I have to let the rich little poor girl go.  Maybe I can just retire her? Let her go to the farm she wants? Let her wander the universe? 

Rise

 If I were to write the story of our start up to break out SaaS, what would I focus on? What would be my hook, what would the flavour? Comedic by the minute, drama by the season? Would it be driven by an ego/equity focus? Am I looking for redemption? The answer to that is yes to a large degree - but in the end, is that what tells the story? Who is the protagonist and who are the people we want to focus on? 

I think if it was to be a meaningful story, the driver would have to be the inequity. Which is currently appalling in many cases. The story of two key female players that are initially empowered by the bright and insightful CEO, but then are overlooked and out numbered by the influx of male bravado hired to "get the start up to the next level"

• What got us here wont get us there
• 10x baby!
• Old guard vs. new guard
• OG's
• Some people are better in start ups and can't make the switch to the growth stage
• The wrong leaders in the wrong places
• Undermining historical context
• Maybe 5x... ?
• Crumbling infrastructure 
• Mistrust
• More wrong leaders in the wrong places
• More mistrust
• Doubling down on undermining historical context 
• More mistrust
• 
  

there is a story here, but I can't find an angle that I like. 

What's interesting today is that we might be in a bit of the scorpion and the frog scenario. With the help of a capitol partner, we've merged with one of our more friendly competitors with a common goal of beating out our shared major competitor. Our capitol partners - as luck would have it - has relationships with some former key players from the major competitor. In fact, now that the deal is done, in addition to the former COO of [major competitor] there is also a CPO and sales leader from [major competitor] coming in to "help us get to the next level and go beyond [major competitor]. However, my spidey senses say that our major competitor has simply outsmarted us. We'er quite possibly on the road to being absorbed/bought out by them. They are the scorpion. We are the trusting frog. 

That would be the story's end. All the work that these humble people put in to getting to a place, succeeding as a saas company, and passing our competition is made moot by this merger (turned acquisition). It's all for not in the end?

All that aside, I find I'm feeling a little listless this weekend. I'm tapped out on the hype of it all. There is so much work to be done and we have so much drama under the hood. It's silly and embarrassing. 

What I would like is to go to work with wonderful people with whom I collaborate with to solve fun puzzles for interesting people. We laugh at the craziness of our ideas, but then we turn them into innovation. We turn our ideas into beautiful, simple logic. That's what I love. 

But today, the reality is that I am tired and a little sad. Something is passing through me. There is a letting go, an undoing. A passing. 

I think of my mom often these days (hi mom 👋 !), I think she's really present lately. There's something in the air. A shift. If I ask, what do I hear? A ship keeps coming to mind... "hold fast" is the word connected to the sense I'm getting. Things are going to be fast and it is meaningful for me to hold on and keep my bearings. There's a calm afterwards that is of great value to me, in that it sets up the next stage of my life. 

I have to remember that it's okay to be low on energy, that is just a sign that I need to balance my mind and actions. Right now, I would like to simplify. I think I'm trying to hold too much together, everything is priority number one and I am on high alert. I would benefit from changing that. I will walk slowly. Slow my breath, keep my eyes open and keep moving forward calmly and creatively. 

💡

What are the times in between writing all this stuff out? What are the highs and lows made of? There's a trend here, I'm sure. Is it change? Shifts of growth? The time before big decisions that need to be made? Is this feeling of anxiety simply the plant protruding from the seed and wanting to push through the ground with no idea of what'll face on the other side? 

I booked my trip for the fall, and I would expect that to cause anxiety. Perhaps it's far enough away from reality that instead of anxiety, it feels like pending relief from my job.

Tomorrow I will be joining my 'peers' on a celebratory offsite. It's the senior leadership team - the C's and VP's, a few key Directors (which includes me?) - sequestering themselves to: revel in a job well done and strategize about the months to come. Yeah, that makes me want to puke. Even my hands want to start shaking a bit. 

I don't belong here feels like a deep knowing that fuels dread. Then, I recall a therapist that the main husband and I went to see once. That husband was talking about his feeling that - given his past - he didn't deserve all that he had, a wife and children. To my shock, the therapist said "you don't." 

I think I even laughed a surprised ha. The therapist explained that no one deserves anything. "But" he followed, "you have it, nonetheless."

Knowing what your afraid of is helpful. How can you know that turning the lights on will make you feel better if you don't know you're afraid of the dark? Huh. That might be one of more profound things I've realized I didn't realize. 

I'm afraid of the dark. And what is ahead of me professionally doesn't have anything I've ever seen before. It's completely foreign. I'm absolutely in the dark. I'm having a very visceral response to this epiphany. My body is heating up, my arms feel weak, and there are slight waves of nausea. If I inspect it, I'm both nervous and excited. 

I'm not dying, I am alive. 

I'm in the line up at the fair. I don't know (trust) if the ride I'm lined up for is safe. It's a gamble of sorts. Yet, I know the ride will not kill me - not physically anyways. it's not life threatening. It's lifestyle threatening. 

I don't want to be rich. Rich as in those people rich. I don't want to be one of those people, and I'm terrified that in my goal for financial freedom, I've found myself in the line up for the wrong ride. This ride is not steeped in humble goodness. 

I grew up on the mean streets of the Shires ghetto and it's legacy is written within me: 

• People like us don't get to cross over
• People like us don't want to cross over
• We practice solidarity to our kind
• Being one of them means you're vapid, stupid, and selfish
• You must stay humble, keep your heart close to the ground
• The air is cleaner - more honest - down here
• Don't be too smart for your own good. This is the advice I rebuked. 
  

Obviously, this is sounding painfully close to the narrative of my current read:Wool. Am I attracted to this book because it mirrors my own thoughts and feelings? My own trajectory? 

"I don't belong here" is only true because it's not a question of belonging or not. You just are where you are. You are (I am) going to have to deal with it. I could get stranded on an island and weep because I don't belong there, but that's not going to help. 

And if this situation, this current trajectory, is that island; well, I'm not stranded. I can leave anytime I want. This is a party I'm attending. I'm standing outside the house in the rich part of town wondering if I'm going to have fun while a keen sense of knowing is hinting that I will not like this crowd. 

I'm choosing to be curious about it. I'm not walking into a house of bullies. I'm walking into a house of a type of folk I've never gotten to know. There may be times where they are thoughtless, but if I turn the lights on, I'll see that they simply know not what they do. I wont be a victim, I would just be a witness, unscathed. It's only if I walk in with the lights off that I may get hurt. 

I'm an explorer from the other side. I'm well equipped to survive. I can explore this world a little bit longer. I will leave when I want to leave. 

I imagine an older version of me, my career days long behind me, looking back at this time and, with a nostalgic smile, telling herself, "if only I'd known that those days were the exciting parts, the fun rides. If only I hadn't been so afraid of them. If only I had raised my arms in the air and embraced the joy of being alive." 

Maybe I do that lady a solid - at least once? 

I had to read the last post to remember that I already decided not to question my lack of umph. But, I'm here to dig more regardless. 

I'm curious as to why I feel at odds with my surroundings. I'm tired of my furniture, it reeks of the life I grew up in. It's my mother in me. I've remade the home that she made. I did this because I loved growing up in it. But now, I loath it. Like somehow, it was a lie. It was a lie then and an even bigger lie now. 

I scan homes that I could buy and I imagine my "new" self in them. Then I will be at peace. I shop online for a new look: furniture, clothes. But when I find a home or look that I like, the excitement is replaced by revulsion in split second. What thought took place in that micro second that sent from Yes! to belly that screamed no... that is not the answer. It's bad. 

What's the psychology here? Am I stopping myself from enjoying life in a way that I can now afford because: 

• I think I don't deserve it? 
• It's a betrayal of where I've come from to be seen as 'rich'?
• It's not 'me'
• I know or think it wont fix me? I am unfixable, so don't waist money

All of the above are true in their own way. And this god damn change in my hormones is not helping any of it. 

This is the bullshit that is. Where are all the crones at? Can you tell me if I have to take HRT or if my body will level out again? Can I wait this out? 

50 and Crashing

This age range: where your hormones are slowly ghosting you, you don't recognize your budding crone-self in the mirror, but you've finally hit your professional stride, but your parents are aging, dying or dead, and your kids are grown up but there's still a very blurry line between them needing you and not needing you - it's a lot. 

Obviously, my world is spinning. Obviously, I'm going to say whoa, can we take a break here? I think I'm going to be sick. And obviously, there doesn't appear to be a lot of hope for it. It's a lot and all I can do is keep my eye on the horizon and ride this storm out. 

All this to say that it makes sense that I'm sad on the deep down inside. I'm sad and it feels really reasonable to allow the sadness some room to explore itself with quiet reflection - which often looks like me starring into the abyss from the couch. 

In the face of societies self help, gratitude having, live your best life marketing machine, staring into the abyss from your couch doesn't sound like the right choice. Yet, my inner voice is clear. Be still, be sad. 

In exercise's corner, I have a better sleep when I drag myself out for a long, still sad and reflective, walk. Given that sleep is my one true "stop the world, I want to get off" friend, I do my best to drag myself out for an exhaustive walk. Exhaustive walking seems to be part of the good medicine for elevating my sadness. 

Hitting my professional stride means that I can afford to pay for a foot massage after the long walk. 

These are the things I do now, and I do them with a heavy heart. 

I think it's supposed to be heavy. I shouldn't try and stop that. I should listen - hear - it. It's okay to be sad. In a world that tells you that sad means something's wrong, it's hard to accept that. I'm slowly accepting it. 

I am sad.

Sad makes you tired, sad zaps creativity, sad diminishes the appetite, sad excludes community. Sad is a rest stop that begs for your attention. You need it. Take the rest. 

Trust yourself that you wont stay here longer than you need to. Have faith  that you will find a way to be a  good friend to the process, and that your energy will be restored.

Go ahead, crash. 

People At Work

Some of my co-workers feel so empowered to tell me how to do my job better. And I would like to see how some of these people, who are so free with the easy answers, would fair. Indeed, I would like them to take over my job and then say, "Jesus, how did you manage all of this? And for so long on your own?"

And then I could/would say, "I know, right? It's hard. Good luck, let me know where I can help."