Today is the first day that I have woken up in this city without my parents residing here. For the past 20 years we have lived in the same city.
I've never felt so lost...or empty.
Through all the changes I have been through, their constant presence in my life has been my net. I was never truly afraid of what happened because I knew they were there to catch me. Now that that net has been removed, fear is affirming its presence.
I saw their faces multiple times a week. They were my strength when my world fell apart...the multiple times that it did. With each failed relationship, almost losing my baby, and the millions of other little heartbreaks along the way I knew they were there.
I suppose it's past time for this girl to put her big girl panties on and grow up.
"When the whole world changes, He'll remain the same."
In the midst of the wreckage, make sure you don't miss the collateral beauty. Single, boy momma.
Sunday, June 17, 2018
Monday, June 11, 2018
Unpacking My Broken Heart
Moving to a new house is a shock to your brain. Routines have to be changed. Things are in different places. You're sleeping in a different space. Your dishes have moved over night. It's an interesting transition to an attempt at normal. Again. In the past three years, I have moved three times. My dad and I have grunted over furniture. We have wounded ourselves. I have had to find new places for my pictures and paintings. I've had to re-hang my clothes. I've broken countless items and trashed multiple things. My brain is an expert lately on this moving thing.
Amidst all the clutter and re-organizing is my heart. Once again taking a stab at stability.
I started dating a man in the midst of all of this transition. It was against my better judgment because I knew I had a lot to deal with already with the move. But I liked him, so I continued. It ended as quickly as it started and I was once again unpacking not just boxes but my wounded ego.
I am a failure at romance. My friends who love me say it's because all these men are idiots and it's got nothing to do with me. But when the view of their backside running with their hair on fire away from me becomes the norm, their assumption begs a different answer.
They tell you in all the books on dating to play it cool. They tell you to live your life and allow him to lead. They tell you to be vague and coy, withdrawn and busy. On one hand. On the other, they say to be vulnerable and inviting. To be interested and accessible. To be exciting and fun.
Dating is exhausting.
Everyone is playing their own game and assumptions run rampant. And insert texting conversations as the main tool and you have an astronomical disaster. Complete with wounds and egos and misunderstandings.
It's super fun.
I am starting to wonder if I destroy relationships on purpose. I have unpacked multiple broken relationships and this momma is just plain, doggone tired.
It's easier to run them off in the beginning because the chances of us actually making it are slim to none anyways. I intentionally bring up intense conversations initially because I am already anticipating their inability to hang. I assume they won't be able to deal with my directness and intensity so I bring it full force. I offend them. I analyze them. I make them play defense. I force them to make premature decisions because the inevitability of collapse is imminent. And all the while, I'm rolling my eyes at myself...knowing that I am pushing them away deliberately.
I'm a pro at unpacking broken relationships.
In this new house, I often wonder if this is the place I will be for the rest of my 40s. Single, raising my boys, adding a dog at some point. And probably a cat. Cutting my own grass. Grocery shopping for three. Eating cheese and crackers for dinner when my boys aren't with me. Making plans that include only friends and their kids. Having the occasional date, but going into it with little expectation and excitement. Working on building my business, building my muscles, maximizing my space, my spirituality, my character. This is my life.
I suspect I am not alone in this landscape of singleness. When love becomes allusive and dating a joke. When your friends become your family and the only source of companionship is found in your kids and your pets. When making decisions is all about your children and plans for the future include just the three of you. And experiencing tough things alone becomes the norm.
I had a moment the other day when I despised being single. I texted my two friends the following:
"Being single sucks. That is all."
When they texted back, five minutes later, and asked why I could not remember what prompted the text. The moment came and left just as quickly as it came. And I was back to being the Independent Rebekah, contentedly single.
But having to face trials alone is the part of being single I don't much care for. Yes, there are always people ready to listen and provide sound advice. But when I hang up the phone or come back to my place, it's just me. In a big, quiet house. Having to live with the decisions I make and have made.
The worst part of the day is the thirty minutes at the end of the day. When you brush your teeth, wash your face, and crawl into bed. Alone. In that space of half an hour, the fullness of being single settles on me. It covers every inch of me and wraps me in a web of solitude. My book provides a bit of reprieve, but the web is firmly attached and leaves little space wanting. In this moment, I am fully alone.
When I think back to the relationships that have failed, I find that the familiarity of them is the most difficult part to get over. The familiarity of their smell, their tone of voice, their touch, their routines, their things, their habits. Knowing them better than most because you are in that intimate space with them. You have co-mingled your lives. All your belongs share a space. Your souls share a space. You both call the same place home.
God and I are making this new place home to me and two little boys. We are together creating familiarity in the newness. I may have unpacked a few broken relationships in my life, but nothing supersedes the enormous box of being called momma.
https://youtu.be/WyF8RHM1OCg
Amidst all the clutter and re-organizing is my heart. Once again taking a stab at stability.
I started dating a man in the midst of all of this transition. It was against my better judgment because I knew I had a lot to deal with already with the move. But I liked him, so I continued. It ended as quickly as it started and I was once again unpacking not just boxes but my wounded ego.
I am a failure at romance. My friends who love me say it's because all these men are idiots and it's got nothing to do with me. But when the view of their backside running with their hair on fire away from me becomes the norm, their assumption begs a different answer.
They tell you in all the books on dating to play it cool. They tell you to live your life and allow him to lead. They tell you to be vague and coy, withdrawn and busy. On one hand. On the other, they say to be vulnerable and inviting. To be interested and accessible. To be exciting and fun.
Dating is exhausting.
Everyone is playing their own game and assumptions run rampant. And insert texting conversations as the main tool and you have an astronomical disaster. Complete with wounds and egos and misunderstandings.
It's super fun.
I am starting to wonder if I destroy relationships on purpose. I have unpacked multiple broken relationships and this momma is just plain, doggone tired.
It's easier to run them off in the beginning because the chances of us actually making it are slim to none anyways. I intentionally bring up intense conversations initially because I am already anticipating their inability to hang. I assume they won't be able to deal with my directness and intensity so I bring it full force. I offend them. I analyze them. I make them play defense. I force them to make premature decisions because the inevitability of collapse is imminent. And all the while, I'm rolling my eyes at myself...knowing that I am pushing them away deliberately.
I'm a pro at unpacking broken relationships.
In this new house, I often wonder if this is the place I will be for the rest of my 40s. Single, raising my boys, adding a dog at some point. And probably a cat. Cutting my own grass. Grocery shopping for three. Eating cheese and crackers for dinner when my boys aren't with me. Making plans that include only friends and their kids. Having the occasional date, but going into it with little expectation and excitement. Working on building my business, building my muscles, maximizing my space, my spirituality, my character. This is my life.
I suspect I am not alone in this landscape of singleness. When love becomes allusive and dating a joke. When your friends become your family and the only source of companionship is found in your kids and your pets. When making decisions is all about your children and plans for the future include just the three of you. And experiencing tough things alone becomes the norm.
I had a moment the other day when I despised being single. I texted my two friends the following:
"Being single sucks. That is all."
When they texted back, five minutes later, and asked why I could not remember what prompted the text. The moment came and left just as quickly as it came. And I was back to being the Independent Rebekah, contentedly single.
But having to face trials alone is the part of being single I don't much care for. Yes, there are always people ready to listen and provide sound advice. But when I hang up the phone or come back to my place, it's just me. In a big, quiet house. Having to live with the decisions I make and have made.
The worst part of the day is the thirty minutes at the end of the day. When you brush your teeth, wash your face, and crawl into bed. Alone. In that space of half an hour, the fullness of being single settles on me. It covers every inch of me and wraps me in a web of solitude. My book provides a bit of reprieve, but the web is firmly attached and leaves little space wanting. In this moment, I am fully alone.
When I think back to the relationships that have failed, I find that the familiarity of them is the most difficult part to get over. The familiarity of their smell, their tone of voice, their touch, their routines, their things, their habits. Knowing them better than most because you are in that intimate space with them. You have co-mingled your lives. All your belongs share a space. Your souls share a space. You both call the same place home.
God and I are making this new place home to me and two little boys. We are together creating familiarity in the newness. I may have unpacked a few broken relationships in my life, but nothing supersedes the enormous box of being called momma.
https://youtu.be/WyF8RHM1OCg
Here I Go Again
Whitesnake
I don't know where I'm goin'
But I sure know where I've been
Hanging on the promises in songs of yesterday
An' I've made up my mind, I ain't wasting no more time
Here I go again, here I go again
Tho' I keep searching for an answer
I never seem to find what I'm looking for
Oh Lord, I pray you give me strength to carry on
'Cause I know what it means to walk along the lonely street of dreams
Here I go again on my own
Goin' down the only road I've ever known
Like a drifter I was born to walk alone
An' I've made up my mind, I ain't wasting no more time
Just another heart in need of rescue
Waiting on love's sweet charity
An' I'm gonna hold on for the rest of my days
'Cause I know what it means to walk along the lonely street of dreams
And here I go again on my own
Goin' down the only road I've ever known
Like a drifter I was born to walk alone
An' I've made up my mind, I ain't wasting no more time
But here I go again, here I go again,
Here I go again, here I go
'Cause I know what it means to walk along the lonely street of dreams
Here I go again on my own
Goin' down the only road I've ever known
Like a drifter I was born to walk alone
An' I've made up my mind, I ain't wasting no more time
Here I go again on my own
Goin' down the only road I've ever known
Like a drifter I was born to walk alone
'Cause I know what it means to walk along the lonely street of dreams
Here I go again on my own
Goin' down the only road I've ever known
Like a drifter I was born to walk alone
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