The Beingness of Me

I don't know if it is how I was raised, or the size of my amygdala, or the mercury from the broken thermometer I played with, (you can make it walk down the stairs like a Slinky) but I think I have always had a concept of who I am, and I don't think it has changed much. I can remember talking to a friend when I was seven about what color I wanted to paint my new bike and I wanted it to be blue and green and she said that would be ugly. And, distinctly, I remember not arguing the point with her and thinking instead, she is just kidding about that or trying to be contrary, cuz blue and green would not be ugly. I didn't need to mention it to her cuz I knew blue and green would not be ugly. Just like, age five, telling the nun my coat is a pea coat. "And tomorrow it will be a "Q" coat", she responded. No insult. I knew she wasn't impugning my intellect or my vast five year storehouse of knowledge. I very simply KNEW, the poor thing, that her dad was not in the Navy.

And then, you are friends with someone forever and a day and you have shared way too much intimate detail about your life with that person, and suddenly, one day, you realize that the person she was friends with all these years is someone she thought you were, and not who you are at all.

I am so sick and tired of putting up with bullshit in the name of love. I am sure, if you did a search, you would find that phrase in my blog, over and over. I have given up so much of my life, and still do, in terms of time, of myself, of my energy, of my values, of my beliefs, in the name of love. And sometimes you have to. There is just no other choice. If you love someone, you have to be all fucking flexible and understanding cuz you love that person. But sometimes you don't have to. Sometimes there is not enough love, or it's the wrong kind of love, or the negatives outweigh the benefits that the "love" has been bringing you.

Sometimes learning these great truths can shake you to the core and leave you sobbing. Sometimes it can make you want to finish that book or that crossword puzzle you started. Sometimes both.