Settling

Posted on November 16, 2011 by Lissa

I’ve been the one who does what has to be done. I’m becoming the one who does what can be done.

I worry about and take care of everyone else, which means I tend to get left by the wayside. I have given up so much in the past few years to make sure other people are safe and sound. Which, surprisingly, has led me to a good place too. Actually, it has led me to no place at all, which kinda means I get a do-over. I can choose to settle like I have in the past, or I can make my life what I truly want….not what I–or someone else–thinks I deserve. Not just good enough, but holy-damn-fuckin’-cool good.

I’m not going to settle for what other people are willing to give me, I’m also not going to settle for what I have been giving myself. I don’t just get to create the life I want, I get to create the me I want.

I am sick of Andie MacDowell and Diane Keaton being the only ones telling me I’m worth it. I guess I’ll start telling myself, and hopefully someone else will see it’s true.

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Place

Posted on November 8, 2011 by Lissa

OK, I’ll admit it, I was totally inspired to write this while listening to a Taylor Swift song. Furthermore, I was tempted to just copy her lyrics and call it a day.

People talk about finding their place in the world. That’s what we’re supposed to do, right? Figure out where we’re supposed to be, what we’re supposed to be doing there, and who we’re supposed to be doing it with.  But what if you can’t find it? Or what if there’s not just one place in the world that fits? Do you keep looking? Do you stay where you are because it’s good enough…or because you feel you aren’t good enough?

I’ve been leading a gypsy lifestyle lately (well, not the whole cursing vampires by giving them back their souls part). I keep meaning to find my place in the world. But, oops, I haven’t. It’s still on my “to do” list, waiting to be crossed off. They (whoever the heck “they” are) say that you can’t find something until you stop looking. I guess I’ll try that tactic. Even if it doesn’t work, I’ll have way more fun than I have been while searching and worrying.

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Regret

Posted on October 30, 2011 by Lissa

Most of the things I regret have to do with hurting other people, not myself.  Sure, I’ve made mistakes and gone through hard times, but I don’t regret the problems and pain since I’ve learned so many lessons. What I do regret is not learning those lessons faster.

I just got one of “those” phone calls. The ones that start with, “I have some bad news.” The ones that end with you regretting something: not calling, not professing love, not spending time, not taking a chance.

Why do we wait for one of these wake up calls (so to speak) to make a change? And why do the changes rarely last? How many times have you sworn you learned your lesson and will change your ways, only to revert quite quickly? Personally, I’ve lost count.

I recently did something big (well, for me anyhow). Take-a-chance-even-though-you’re-scared-to-death kind of big. How did it work out? I’m actually not sure yet. But, no matter. I did it. I didn’t make an excuse; I didn’t delay plans. I took a deep breath and jumped in. And just as important, I did it as myself. No worrying and trying to think of the right thing to say or do, instead just opening my mouth and heart.

Hopefully this means I’ve learned my lesson.

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Connection

Posted on October 27, 2011 by Lissa

My uncle has been quite sick lately, which has me thinking a lot about him and our relationship. I have long felt a deep connection to my uncle. There’s no reason for me to feel closer to him than anyone else…but I do, and always have.

This connection with my uncle has me pondering the connections I share with other people in my life. Such as:

-The cute boy I barely knew but spent hours talking with over dinner.

-My first friend from kindergarten, who is still important to me.

-An ex on whom I will always depend.

-The old friends I hadn’t seen in years, but have reconnected with…in ways old and new.

-A guy who bullied me in school, but with whom I now feel surprisingly comfortable.

When we say people have chemistry, we often mean it in figurative sense, but there is a  literal meaning too. Being around certain people creates chemical changes in our brains, so these connections are physical as well as emotional. But how is it this happens with certain people and not others? And doesn’t that make that it all the more special?

When I feel a connection with someone, I don’t want to ignore it nor question it. I just want to explore it and see where it leads.

 

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Smarts

Posted on October 16, 2011 by Lissa

Smarts.  I got ’em. Well, at least according to standardized tests. So, having a high IQ means I’m the CEO of a Fortune 500 company and I’ve discovered the cure for cancer, right? Well, actually a high IQ predicts success in school…and that’s about it. And in my case that prediction was off base–way off.

I basically stopped doing homework from fourth grade until my second try at college. If I knew how to find the answer, why did I have to do it a hundred times over just to prove it? But more importantly, what if I couldn’t find the answer? What if I actually tried and couldn’t do it? What if I was a failure? If I didn’t try, I had an excuse: I totally could have aced it if I cared enough. So instead of actually seeing what I was capable of–or not capable of–I settled for “doesn’t live up to her potential.”

I knew I was smarter than the average bear. But what did that really mean? At times I used it as self-esteem boost, telling myself I was better, at least in that way, than others. At other times I used it to beat myself up: if I was so smart why did I act so stupid? It was something I bragged about, yet didn’t always believe was true. Now I see it as a resource, one of many I have, one that others have too. It’s no more or less important than other strengths.

In the past I wanted to be with someone who was smart, but not quite as smart me. I wanted to feel superior. Now I want to be with someone more intelligent, someone I can learn from, who will challenge me and help me become a better person…not a superior one.

PS Should that last “who” be “whom?” I never get that right.

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Envy

Posted on October 9, 2011 by Lissa

I recently drove around the town where I grew up. “An affluent village,” according to Wikipedia. The thing is, the village may have been affluent, but I wasn’t. I lived on the wrong side of the tracks (well, it’s the Great Western Trail now, but it was railroad tracks at one point) in an unincorprated area. My house was a block from another town with about three times the population below the poverty level and one-third less white people. (It has been pointed out to me by someone who grew up downtown in the affluent village whenever the subject comes up I make a point of saying I’m REALLY from the first town and not the second…OK, I get it, I still have issues!)

I went to elementary school in the “poor” town and high school in the “rich” town. On the bus ride downtown, I swore that someday I would buy the biggest house on the block (preferably one on Park Boulevard) and my kids would be football stars and cheerleading captains. So that totally happened, right? Nope. And I’m glad; it’s not for me. Now my dream is to live in a cute cottage and travel the world, maybe adopt a few older kids and put them through college.

So, as I drove through town a few weeks ago I laughed at my silliness and neediness. Except, I didn’t. I looked at houses, found the most obnoxious, and daydreamed about living there. Did I think about being rich and powerful? Not quite. I realized my true desire is to be envied. So how about being envied for what I really do want: bliss? And how about then helping others gain what I have so they don’t need to envy me? Sounds like a plan, Stan.

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Family

Posted on September 23, 2011 by Lissa

I am an only child, though my extended family is fairly large…in theory. I have twelve cousins, ranging in age from four to twenty-three years older than me. I wasn’t raised with them, and until recently hadn’t seen many of them since I was three. We never did big family holidays. Growing up, my parents and I would head south every few years to visit my uncles/aunts/cousins. I continued to make the trek as an adult as an attempt to connect with people I’m supposed to be close to. A few days every few years…that’s what family is to me.

I married into a larger family, and gained a couple of siblings and eventually nieces and a nephew. Not to mention a whole bunch of cousins who actually spent time together! We had to set the table for more than thirty people on Christmas. But when I divorced I not only lost a husband, I lost my family.

So, I had the theoretical big family and the temporary big family, but not the movie version of the big family I always wanted. You know, the everyone heading to the grandparents for a holiday meal/playing football in the yard/women washing dishes while the men watch sports/singing songs around the piano version. Seriously, where’s the scriptwriter for my life? Please edit me into one of those families!

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Sex

Posted on September 5, 2011 by Lissa

OK, this is going to be about sex. Let just put that out there. But keep your pants on, it isn’t a Penthouse Letter.

When we are teenagers—or even pre-teens, especially nowadays—we need to figure out sex. Do we want to do it? Who would we do it with? What exactly are we willing to do? We make our own rules and discover our limits…and then rewrite our rules as we learn, experiment, and age.

I made–what I considered then to be–huge mistakes concerning sex when I was a teenager. I’ve since realized…who gives a fuck?! Seriously, whether I did it at 16 or not, lost it to a guy I barely knew or a long-term boyfriend, had a one night stand, or was a bad lay; I didn’t ruin my life. My angst over my actions was more detrimental than anything I actually did, or didn’t do.

After we make our rules, break our rules, and change our rules; new ones are often placed upon us. We end up in a serious relationship or marriage and there are certain expectations. And if we choose not to go with the usual expectations, we determine with our partner(s) certain boundaries that work for our relationship.

So what happens if we never had those limits imposed on us, or suddenly find ourselves single again (as I did) and have to refigure how we’re going to navigate these waters? I don’t have the same hang-ups I did when I was younger. Nor the same emotional needs. But I do have the same insecurities. And uncertainties. I guess I need to remember that whole angst vs. actions thing.

Now I’m a grown woman and have to figure out sex again. Who? What? When? Where? Why? How? Shouldn’t this be easier than when I was sixteen? And what exactly happened to Dr. Ruth; why isn’t she around now that I need her again?!

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Constant

Posted on August 30, 2011 by Lissa

I feel very untethered. Even before my dad died almost three years ago, I had moved a bit. But I still felt connected, like a kite on a string. Since he’s been gone, I’m floating free. Too free.

From the time I was a teenager, my mom and I have not had what you’d call a strong relationship. We just don’t like each other very much. It’s not that we have nothing in common; quite the opposite. Almost everything I don’t like about myself I learned from her. All those personality traits I hate about myself, the ones I work so hard to overcome, are the same faults I find in her. It’s hard to be around someone who reminds you of the person you used to be. And it makes it all the more difficult to remember you are not that person anymore.

Most people (Many people? Some people?) have a constant. A person, activity, or belief that is always there in some manner or other.

I lack a lifelong friend or family member to whom I am close, reminding me who I am…and how far I’ve come. I don’t have a talent that defines me. There isn’t something I was just born to be, nor an overriding purpose to what I do.

Where is the Desmond Hume to my Daniel Faraday? I need a constant.

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Intentions

Posted on August 29, 2011 by Lissa

The road to hell is paved with…well, for me it’s paved with sitting on the couch drinking sangria and watching Criminal Minds reruns. My intention when I began this blog was to write regularly. Not on a timetable, but often enough that I would feel productive and purposeful. Um, that didn’t happen. I blame fruity wine and Matthew Gray Gubler.  I do have a bunch of half-written entries sitting on my computer. What’s the real reason I haven’t finished and posted any of them? Well, do you have 50 minutes and a couch for me to lie on? Let’s just leave it at I didn’t but I will. So, in the words of that wise sage Kermit, “On with the show!”

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